6.19.2006

Whistling on my bike

Oh, I was reminded of how my life was today. It is like a song, so beautiful and rich. Its like the song I sing when I ride my bike. I ride and sing--as if no one can hear. When I was in high school I used to write in people's yearbooks

"dance like nobody is watching, love like no one will ever notice, and sing like no on has ears to hear."

I think I was smarter back then, I believed simple truths of freedom that are hard to swallow now. I still recognize that freedom now, but it is different.

I ride my bike and pray before I go to waitress at the Nederlander Grille. Serving up french fries and encouragements. I sing on my bike too. When someone walks by I try to cover my song...and whistle. That is dumb. I am learning to sing and be free as the words flow from my tongue off my lips.

Today I cried in church. My dad played the song he wrote for me to be played and sung at my wedding...that will no longer happen. I cried not because of the non-wedding, but because I love my dad so much and he wrote me an amazing song. I leaned foward so people would be forced to feel sorry for me. The way they do when you see someone cry. Like there is anything you can do for them. I just want to cry. So I did. Unashamed. They were fresh tears, not the weeping kind that clog your nose and your face with red and snot..but fresh like a rain that fall straight down. They don't slither down your face like lingering snakes, but just drip. It tickles the lip and hangs off the edge of your nose like a silver spoon at a fancy restaurant.

Someday he will play and sing that song for me and my husband, whoever and wherever he is. But today June 18, 2006 I was married. Reunited with Christ. Pure, fresh, unashamed and beautiful.

So life is like a song. Sing. Unashamed

"Much love and thanks for listening to me sing," (Don Miller, Blue Like Jazz)

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

your song is like a solitary reaper.Once william wordsworth told about solitary reaper.A woman is lone in the field and she sings the melody from her heart.Today I can hear the same voice from you.

Erika Hydeen Strickland said...

this is a beautiful picture, I wish I could know more....I have had this picture in my mind sometimes. From Matthew it says we are workers in the field...but the workers are few. The time passes, alone...but we rejoice.

thank you, who are you?
pictures from an open window

karen amalie said...

beautiful erika.

ragnhild said...

erika! Today you taught me something new!

thank you!
Ragnhild

Paul Andreas said...

Life is a song,
and we were meant to sing it.
Why then are we silent?
Why then am I silent?