Am I Singing? I can't help but ask myself this question. I get so sucked into the everyday...the drudgery, the repetition, the predictability of it all. Have I left room for the song...for the song of my soul? Those of you who are parents of young children know that time spent with your spouse or even alone to meditate is nearly impossible to realize. But as your children grow you find that little space for reflection. Maybe it is in the shower...in the car...the few minutes before you fall asleep. For me today, it was in the car. I was listening to one of my favorite bands of all time, U2 - "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb." I highly recommend anything that U2 has ever done, but especially this CD. Critics of this CD would likely mention the use of Christian themes and images throughout to sell a cheap, emotional experience (or worse, alienate the listener). But I think those critics missed the point. U2 is not borrowing Christian themes and images for fun or because they may promote some pseudo spiritual experience. They truly believe this stuff. There is no way a song like "Yahweh" was written without a knowledge of several portions of scripture and then a personal revelation of what that means to the writer. I am blown away by the depth of each track on this album and how I'm personally changed by the message of this song and several others on the CD. (Sidenote - who doesn't love the Edge's brilliant, unique guitar riffs?) Back to my point - to tell you about one of my favorite parts of the song - "take this soul, stranded in some skin and bones, take this soul and make it sing." I played the song again wondering, pondering, reflecting on this question - is my soul singing? I think that for a better part of the past year my soul was crying and laughing and agonizing and intensely analyzing everything and pondering every part of the emotional spectrum. But singing? Definitely not. But today I realized that this indescribable gift of joy is welling up in me. Joy at my big girl Kayla dancing around our living room...joy at Zachary vibrating because he is standing without help...joy at the knowing, mischievous twinkle in Jerry's eyes. This joy, a gift that only God can give...joy of knowing that his purposes continue to work and flow through me and that he continues to give me hope in all circumstances. Nothing else matters.