Music to my ears...

Every mom of boys has those moments when you wonder if, left to themselves, your children just might kill each other. (Or is that just me?) I am so grateful that in addition to the arguing, the tattling, the threats and the screaming, sometimes what I hear is this...

...an older brother telling a younger brother how much he will miss him when he goes to school today - a simple lovesong.

...the older brothers saying, each in his own time, "But mom, I just want to protect him" or "I was trying to keep him safe so he wouldn't get smashed," or "Mom, I brought him down so he wouldn't get hurt." Their watchfulness makes me proud - a hymn of security.

...a younger brother telling an older brother who doesn't have much money saved that he'll help him buy something he's been wanting - a sacrificial melody.

...a younger brother asking 50 times a day where his older brothers are - a song of anticipation.

...an older brother saying, "Let's play hide and seek," and the chaos that follows - the music of laughter.

...a brother saying to his twin after hearing him say he doesn't understand his homework, "Mom, I can help him" - a chorus of caring.

...the oldest saying to his very sad younger brother in the car, "Do you want to hold my hand?" - a sweet song of connection.

Together, these become a symphony of hope - that God is weaving their hearts together, each one an aria of their learning to put the other first. As I remember the tunes, I savor and commit them to memory as their rhythms join the tempo of spring's sweet song today...

...the birds singing and mud puddle splashes.

Before the music reaches it's best moment in my head, I hear one boy say to his brother, "Come here, you flea-ridden varment," and suddenly the timbre of what was a bright melody only moments before, suddenly becomes the white noise of my day.