#TellHisStory: Guess What

Make a joyful noise, all the earth.  

Psalm 100:1

"Hey, guess what, Mom,"  my daughter turned to me in the car - big smile on her face.  We were on our way home from the commissary.

"I don't know, what?"  I thought I was playing our game - the one where the first person gets to say that's what with a big giggle.  But no, she had an answer.  A clear-as-a-bell, no Down-Syndrome-accent answer.

"I'm going to sing on the microphone tomorrow."  She means that she's going to sing with the praise band on the microphone at church...

I could barely reply to her, for laughing.  "Hey, guess what, Sierra..."  She looked over, full-on smile beaming, "You're not going to sing on the microphone tomorrow."  Emphasis on the not.  Then it was her turn to laugh.

Meet my girl.  Surface silly, emotion deep.  She's twenty-one, soon to be twenty-two (as she reminds me on a regular basis).  I've written before that she lives out loud - there are no secrets with Sierra.  The surprise is her sense of humor.  She was teasing me.

Ok, so there's a bit of a story behind this...

Music is huge to Sierra.  Her ipod has close to 2000 songs loaded on it - and they shuffle all day long for her.  She loves CMT, VH1, and American Idol.  She loves to perform.  She has a Sierra-sized, pink guitar, and of course, the requisite Garage Band instrument set.  When I hook up the karaoke machine (another story....), she's right there, karaoke-ing.   She air-guitars and drums in the car;   We can hear her singing with her headphones on, while she 'works' in the other room.  Did I mention that she lives out loud?

You would think, with all this playing and sharing and acting of music, you would think it would be ok for me to sing along to the radio every now and then.  Nope.  Sierra shushes me every time I start to sing.  And I sing ok.  Really.  I sing on key - I know the words - I have rhythm....   Really.  But every time I start to sing along - there's Sierra.  She either shushes me, or she tells me it's too hard for me, or she starts punching the air around me in annoyance.  It's annoying to me...

Of course, my rebel kicks in and I start to sing more, louder, and off-key.   I turn the music up.  And eventually I get her to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.  But, honestly, it kind of hurts my feelings...

So, we're driving to the commissary, and I start singing along with the radio, and Sierra tells me to stop singing - and I turn the radio off and have a conversation with her.  I tell her that I love music as much as she loves music.  I tell her that I love to sing along with the songs just like she does.  I tell her that it hurts my feelings when she always shushes me.  And I tell her that I love her, anyway, even though my feelings have been hurt.  She turns her head away - I know she's processing something that she doesn't want to hear.

We run our errands - gas for the car, grocery shopping.  And now we're on our way home.  The radio is on.  I'm singing along, and for once, Sierra is not trying to get me to stop.  Instead, I hear, "Hey mom, guess what...."

I suppose I''m going to have to consider a way to get her on that microphone at church someday...

Thank you, God,  for the gift of my daughter and her sense of humor.  Thank you for her guidance toward joy.

Linking with Jennifer at TellHisStory

** Note:  I've been slammed-busy with a long-term substitute position for a woman who could really use some prayers for healing, strength, and peace.  I miss writing, and I miss this community.  Today's post is from my archives.  Thanks for reading, and thanks for prayers.