March 2, 2012
Come, let us sing to the Lord;
let us shout for joy to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving
and raise a loud shout to him with psalms. Psalm 95:1-2
I listen to the house, aware of my gratitude accompanying the sound of the furnace kicking in to ward off the early morning chill. I am thankful for the creak on the wooden stairs announcing my daughter’s morning descent into the routine of the day. The hum of water through pipes harmonizes with the movements of my waking family.
Woven through the sounds of this old house a chorus of voices. Roofers, contractors, chimney sweeps and furnace experts. Plumbers, painters, handymen and the charitable friend who stands with me in the basement solving a complex puzzle. Generous with their expertise and counsel. Generosity is generative, I remember being taught. I am a student still.
In the early morning I come before God with a song of thankfulness on my lips. Gratitude for this old house, beloved house, home. Gratitude for the chorus who has taught me to sing this verse.
copyright © Anne E. Kitch 2012
