It's 4:30 am and I can't sleep.
Why, you ask? Well, normal stuff really: my husband is snoring in my ear; I'm fighting off a headcold; my middle child is away at her first sleep over and I am worried; my youngest has just wet the bed; and I have some concerns over the move that we are getting ready to embark on . . .to another country . . .just little things really. The "noises" of life.
Still, I am amazed that despite all the noise (and phlegm) in my head I am keenly aware of how quiet the evening has been without my middle child. You would think that going from three to two children really wouldn't make much of a difference in the decibel level but it has. I noticed this too when my oldest had gone on a sleep over but I chalked that up to her bossy - I mean strong and decisive - personality. And when my youngest was on a sleep over, I was so busy worrying that she would wet the bed (Are you sensing a theme here?) that I was unable to see the difference in the dynamics of the house at the time. But I noticed it at dinner and am still aware (at this earlier hour of the morning) of the vaccuum her absence has created - in spite of the roaring of thoughts in my own mind.
And it made me think - isn't this every mothers' dream come true? Blessed silence? The lack of stamping feet, whining voices, and any other irritating sound that is associated with the children we claim to love so much? If this is it, the golden ring, then why am I not a.) sleeping! and b.) enjoying it?
I think Spock (the 2009 version of him anyway) said it best, "If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." It is impossible to comprehend that a mother of three who is about to move her entire family across the Atlantic would not cherish moments of silence whenever and where ever she could obtain them. Yet, as improbable as it seems, I am not comforted or soothed by the silence. Rather I am profoundly disturbed.
To say that this is the first time I was awake in the middle of the night, struggling with some emotional stress would be preposterous - I'm a mother of three! But, somewhere during the course of the 10 years that I have been a fretting mommy my method of coping with these late night mental wrestling matches became praying the rosary. Oooooh, you should see my collection!!! I collect rosaries like Carrie Bradshaw collects shoes. . .
Tonight though, as I reach under my pillow for my St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin, Ireland rosaries the words, 'Make a joyful noise unto the Lord,' come to mind. I know they are in the Bible although I have to google it: Make a joyful noise unto God, all ye lands. . .Psalm 66:1 (KJV)
Why did these words fall into my mind? If I'm honest it's probably because the sweet, sweet woman who ministers to our children while the rest of us moms are sequestered with our Bibles and coffee and pastries on Thursday mornings just reviewed this passage with the children. They even made these cute little tambourines out of beans and paper plates. . .
Anyhoo, this recent event is one possibility but, as I am a Christain, I choose to believe what Jesus told the disciples before he left them in John 14:26 (KJV) "But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you."
Okay, so now I'm intrigued. I'm lying awake in the middle of the night worried about, well, LIFE and keenly aware of the silence and THIS is the verse that God decides to pop into my head? Really?
Well, let's check it out then, shall we? The word used in this verse in it's original Hebrew is ruwa' and it used with both positive and negative connotations. The joy of victory and the sound of destruction. At times it used on conjunction with the word niph'al from the root verb pa'al which means "to do". In those instances the noise is not just a sound emanating from the person it is what they are doing; a state of being, if you will.
As an aside, I think it is very interesting that ruwa' (pronounced roo-ah') is eerily similar to the Marine battle cry "oorah!" and that being a Marine IS a state of being - once a Marine, always a Marine (Yeah, that's right. . .Leathernecks know waz up!)
The moral of the story? As a mother, the noises of our children and our very busy lives define us; they are who we are. So enjoy the noises. One day they will be gone. Either because the children have grown up and gone. Or, if you are most unfortunate, because tragedy has struck and taken one before you felt you were ready to let them go. . .and then there will be just silence. We all say we want the silence but we don't really. We just want the peace that comes from knowing that all will be well. And, for me, I have learned (and will continue to re-learn everyday!) that hearing your children cry because they wet the bed or scream at the injustice of being stared at by another sibling truly means that all will be well.
Well, after you wash the sheets and remove the little Peeping Tom . . .
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