Kitchen Sink Petitions

I lie in bed, holding the hand of my 3-month old, Isaiah. His breathing pulses and lulls his small body to sleep.

Just six months ago, I stood at the kitchen sink, wondering how to go about this, how to fill my life with the gift of music– how to make it work in the midst of motherhood, in the midst of busy life.

There, in front of dirty dishes, I made a petition, and my tiny voice shook the foundations of Heaven.

Only days later, 20 minutes from my kitchen sink, a dear friend who runs a recording studio approached my husband in a coffee shop. A recorded EP- absolutely free.

This music journey of writing and thinking and feeling, overcome with inspiration and emotion– it’s lately been kept close to the heart, hidden from outside view.

Then this. 

Last week, we released a 5-song EP, recorded at Red Barn Studio. And I stood once again at the kitchen sink. I felt myself standing there, but my soul seemed to be in another place.

I’m the one with the poorly recorded CDs that sold for $5 to kind friends and family. I’m the one with two little ones and not enough discipline to regularly practice…and I’m the one with the kind and supporting husband who just asks me to sing.

I stood at the sink and thought of mothers like me, looking at their little ones and hearing a voice:

Oh, my little one, hold on…we’re almost home. 

I stood at the sink and pictured a hand of healing peace sweep over rooftops and a mighty wind through broken souls like mine…

I can feel my lungs again…

This is what the journey is for.

My soul longs for hearts to be filled, and isn’t music the tool for such a thing? Such a miraculous thing.

My miracle happened six months ago, and I still don’t feel my feet quite back on the solid ground.

I’m thankful and absolutely blessed, and that’s all I can manage to feel.

This is the journey I’ve  longed for–wherever it may lead.

If you’re the mom dancing in the living room with your little one–join me.

If you’re the addict–porn or drugs, pride or legalism–join me.

If you’re the aid worker in India who daily fights the brutal fight of restoration–please, join me.

And to the rest of us–Heaven hears the kitchen sink petitions, and like a good Father, shakes Heaven’s foundations to answer them.