Can't Hear You

One word describes my day today:  LOUD.  The alarm broke through the peace of slumber and I haven't had anything close to quiet since.  Children argued.  Babies teethed.  School was thunderous.   Volume controls seemed stuck at eleven.  Today has held nonstop noise.

After a work day described as boisterous at best.  I returned home to loud wii games, and sweet, loud children.  I set about cooking a pork roast and trying to quiet my mind; still my spirit.  Before I knew what I had done smoke alarms blared.   The pan was too hot, and lime pepper was smoking fervently.  I grabbed a towel to fan the fog and promptly set it ablaze.  Nice.  Alarms rang louder.

I put out the flames without an issue.  Next to tackle: the problem of all that noise.  By this point all three kids were crying and hiding under their favorite blankets.  I tried to be light-hearted to put them at ease.   I  stood,  singing and making jokes while I tried to find a switch on the alarm.  Have I mentioned the decibel level creeping higher by the minute?

I called my dad and screamed into the phone, "Could he please help?"  He came over and joined the cacophony of sound that surrounded us.  We had to yell to hear each other.  Broomsticks banged wall units.   Breakers surged on and off.  Fans wobbled.    Ladders clanged underfoot.  The dog ran back outside to find peace.

Finally, we discovered the trick to stopping the vicious assault on our senses; one small button at the back of the house.  We closed the windows.  We put away the brooms and ladders.  We stopped the fans. Blankets returned to beds.  The house became still again, for a few moments.  Ian fell asleep on my shoulder in record time.  Abi giggled.  I breathed it in deeply.  Ben threw his arm up and remarked, "Yea, all the sounds are gone, now we can hear!"

But let all who take refuge in you be glad;
       let them ever sing for joy.
       Spread your protection over them,
       that those who love your name may rejoice in you.

                                           Psalm 5:11

The loudness of life points to need of a refuge, a shelter.  Some days present that assault on our senses, on our faith, on our outlook.  We need that place of safety  where all we hear is the certainty of His guidence.   We need the noise to leave, so we can hear the One ever present amongst all the sound of life..