So I was reading this great post recently about another mother; she went a year without having a quiet time (aka devotional, quality, alone time with God). Not surprisingly it was the same year she had twins.  And from the first sentence I thought, “Oh, yes, jackpot!” Because that is exactly how I feel.

Very rarely do I have a “quiet” time. But I have a “loud” time on a daily basis! Loudly singing along to the praise music while my boys beat the drums; loudly marching to and from the laundry room; loudly herding boys back to their seats for meals and grace; loudly wrestling, loving, tugging, parenting. Loud times are my times with God these days. And they are often better than my quiet times ever were.

Even when I have the rare quiet reprieve (driving to and from work, sitting at the hairdresser, um, that’s all I can think of) those moments lack the raw, intimate immediacy of yelling, “HA-LE-LOO-JAH!” alongside my boys as they jump and jive to their favorite chorus.

And I have found that God speaks loudly back. Because I am learning things alongside my kids that may have taken a lot longer to grasp in a quiet time. For example, what is heaven like, really?

“Where’s your mom, mama?”

“My mom died, honey”

“What’s dead mean, mama?”

Uh, hello panic? Yea, you – how much is too much when you are talking to a four-year-old about life and death? And how to talk about heaven without getting into a cheese-fest about puffy white clouds and angel wings?

“Honey, my mom got really sick and even though they gave her medicine it didn’t make her better. Then she died. But you know what? Jesus promises us that when we die he is waiting to meet us. He told his best friends that his dad has a really big house with lots and lots of rooms and fun stuff to do. And when you die you get to be with him, at his dad’s house. What’s your favorite thing to do, honey?”

“I like tractors.”

“Then I bet Jesus will have something as awesome as a great, big tractor waiting for you one day.”

“And balls, I like to kick balls.”

“I think he would love to play soccer with you.”

“But mama, I don’t like beans.”

“Ok, honey. Both me and Jesus know that. Jackson doesn’t like beans.”

“I don’t like beans a LOT, mama”

Loud is the new quiet in our house.

  •  
  •  
  •  
  •  
  •