I was cooking pasta in the kitchen, and I heard a sudden chorus of giggles. Three gigglers — two little ones and one big grown up one.
“Wheeeeeeee!” (translation = “no, tickle meeee!” from the giggler who can’t say most words yet)
I couldn’t resist a peek around the corner. I saw two little boys lying side by side on their bean bag with arms stretched over their heads and one big boy (daddy) leaned over them with tickling fingers poised. All were joined in one resounding symphony of giggles. It was at that point I added my own giggle to the chorus. And, I couldn’t resist getting in one tickle of my own before getting back to my boiling pot.
It’s a time of change in our household. We’re nurturing a still new landscaping business, entering new stages from baby to toddler, from toddler to big boy, and preparing for a new “little seester” in early September. It has stirred up even the youngest hearts in our little giggle crowd. Change has become the background music of our lives.
The one consistency of change is its constant presence. And, like all background music, it sometimes asserts itself. At times it’s a dirge, and we are saddened and brought to tears. At times it’s staccato, disjointed so we can hardly keep up. At times it’s a waltz, and we think we are finally in a predictable rhythm. At times it’s forte, a cacophony that stretches and irritates.
Then, the giggles. That joyous chorus relegates the turmoil of change to its right place — the background. It’s just the hum we learn again to accept. The beautiful music of laughter has refocused our perspective.
“Our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with joyful shouting; then they said among the nations, “the Lord has done great things for them.” (psalm 126:2)
The tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little boys and the anticipation of 1 little girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach. “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)