Yesterday was not a good day. And it seems like we’ve had a long string of not so good days with the murder of George Tiller, North Korea perfecting its long range nuclear technology, President Obama reversing President Bush’s Mexico City policy, extremist Muslims threatening to wrest control of the government of a nuclear power in Pakistan, Iran threatening Israel’s very existence, the recession, a ballooning government…etc
Yesterday, as I was refreshing my browser every minute for the latest updates about the Tiller case, my six year old daughter tapped me on the back and asked if I could listen to her play the piano. Now, she doesn’t really play the piano, she just bangs away but she enjoys it. Sometimes she sings silly lyrics as well. Sometimes not. I told her to wait a few minutes. Why? Because this Tiller thing was really important. There were huge consequences to this. It’s effect on the pro-life movement could be drastic. I feared more babies would be killed because of this nutjob’s actions. I feared that the actions of one man would be used to marginalize an entire movement.
These thoughts were with me the entire day. While in the car on the way to Church, a truck pulled up next to us. The truck was carrying a huge wall-length mirror on its side. Well, the children thought this was the greatest thing ever. They started waving to themselves and laughing. And what did I do? I turned up the radio to hear how the news was reporting Tiller’s death.
Last night, I brought the children to bed, prayed, and turned out the lights and said goodnight. On my way back to the computer I passed the piano. And I remembered. Oh-no. And I felt like the biggest jerk in the world.
And I had the choice. The piano or the computer. I could sit around and worry about the world’s problems or I could make a six year old’s night.
I walked back up the stairs and I whispered to her, “I’m sorry I forgot to listen to your song dollface. Do you want to come downstairs and play it for me?” Her eyes lit up and she darted out of bed and raced down the stairs. The other girls followed, the lights were turned on, the nine year old grabbed the baby out of the crib, and the boy darted out of his room to see what was going on.
We all stood around as the six year old played her song. There were no words to this song but she closed her eyes while she banged away and we all clapped when she was done.
And I thought to myself, for all the world’s problems and there are many, I have to remember that while they occured my daughter did a great project about Helen Keller, my children prayed for classmates, friends, and relatives. My one year old daughter really advanced with her language so that I can understand her about half the time. And my daughter wrote a song.
The world’s problems don’t go away. But my six year old won’t always be six. And she’s not always going to want to write songs for me. And while her songs don’t solve all the world’s problems, they do make them seem a little smaller and further away.