Laughable Love at Home

Over the past few weeks, our church choir has been practicing “Love at Home.” During rehearsal today, the lyrics struck me as rather ironic.

There is beauty all around, when there’s love at home.

As I thought back on our day, I wondered what could be considered more beautiful—Brooklyn’s bright orange drawing on the carpet, or Talia’s chocolate-colored poop smeared on the white canvas of her Daddy’s Sunday shirt.

There is joy in every sound, when there’s love at home.

I wonder which sounds those refer to—the percussive rhythm of Cheerios crunching on the floor (Talia dumped out the entire bag over breakfast this morning), or the lyrical moans of Brooklyn whining terribly about how much it hurts before the brush even makes contact with her scalp.

Peace and plenty here abide,

Peace… peace… Well, we have plenty of peas scattered among the Cheerios, along with a random puzzle piece, but peace seems elusive, particularly at mealtime... and playtime… and bathtime… and diaper-changing time…

Smiling sweet on every side

Let’s just say that with half of the family on antibiotics, we do more sniffling than smiling lately.

Obviously, whoever composed these lyrics must not have had small children at home. I don’t know about your family, but roses definitely don’t bloom beneath our feet! Still, one thing is very true--the time really does glide, even if it isn’t as softly and sweetly as the song suggests. I suppose the best we can do for the moment is still love each other, despite the raw imperfections of reality, and allow for the rose-colored glasses of memory to take care of the rest.