Skip to main content

" No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home"

 Today I was getting ready for church and a song was in my head. 

Just the tune, not the words. I vaguely remembered it being from a BYU production that my parents used to watch. I thought it was a thanksgiving one. So as a shot in the dark I asked Alexa to play "Thanksgiving praise songs from BYU". Of course she couldn't find it. But she said "Here are other songs from BYU concert choir" and then proceeded to play THE EXACT SONG I WAS LOOKING FOR.

Either God or Alexa was listening to my humming. But really, though I still feel agnostic-ish, I want it to be God. I want it to be a tender mercy, them sending me a loving message through this song. And though my shoulder skeptic tried to tell me it was just a lucky coincidence, I let myself be wrapped in the moment and the loving words of the song. I imagined it like a lullaby my Heavenly Parents (Mormons believe God is both God the Mother and God the Father, two parents, that are our parents) were singing to me. Then as I listened to the words I was touched even more, especially at the last line as the author pleads to come live with God and says..


"No more a stranger, or a guest, but like a child at home."

This part moved me to tears. To imagine being with my Heavenly Parents, home with them, safe, loved, secure, and at peace. Not as a stranger or guest, but like a beloved child. 

What a touching vision this is for me.

And even more touching if it was a little vision sent to me from God. 

I'm going to say it was. And let myself just bask in their love for me. 


Here's the song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aM0jsNkoIjc

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

All About Me (Yep, again)

 I have always LOVED writing about myself. Why? I don't know, but I think it has something to do with the fact that I'm a social anxious extrovert? So a huge part of me wants to put myself out there and be known and heard, but I have crazy amounts of anxiety around people. Writing seems like a safer way to put myself out there, or at least pretend I'm putting myself out there. I also think that maybe growing up the oldest of eight kids left me feeling kind of...invisible? That on top of being totally socially anxious at school, where I also felt invisible, might be reasons why I like to write about who I am.  It's also been such a life long quest for me to figure out who I even am. I am still on this journey. When I was younger I remember people always asking me why I was so quiet. And I distinctly remember at some point in my childhood a peer telling me I had "no personality." Which, well, to them I didn't. I was just that girl who never talked and was aw...

My heart outside of my body (In the form of little people)

My kids have string lights in their room. Colorful stars for the boys and soft white fairy lights for my girl. I love their lights. It makes their rooms more fun and inviting. And I think of myself as a child and I would have been giddy with joy to have magical fairy lights in my room. I think they like them. They fall asleep with them on, so part of my nightly routine is to go and unplug them so they can sleep better in a darker room. Every night as I do, I see them sleeping so soundly and my heart swells with love for my little people. We were watching Ron Gone Wrong together the other day, and there's a part when the dad talks about his son being a little piece of his heart walking around outside of him. What a perfect way to describe our children and how we feel so intensely about them. I just feel totally and completely overwhelmed with love for them every night as I go and unplug their lights and pray for them. It's a crazy amount of love. Is it evolution? Am I hardwired ...

So this is love...

 I'm feeling so super sick. The yucky kind. Tummy issues. We've all been eating the same thing so I think it's just stress. I've been maxed out. Tired. Burnt out. I'm in my fluffy blanket he bought me one day when I was having a bad day. I love this blanket. It's so freaking soft. Like magical feeling. My legs are draped over him and he is rubbing them and I'm rubbing his chest occasionally resting my head on his shoulder, but also lifting it to watch Psych with him. Earlier he got me a 7up from downstairs to help with my tummy issues. I'm feeling a little better now. We laugh at the wacky coroner from Psych. And I feel my heart warm with love for this man. This man who isn't disgusted by the fact I have tummy issues and still holds me. This man who worries about me and wants to find ways to help me feel better. This man who holds me and laughs with me. And I think, "so this is love." We've been married for over 11 years. And I still st...