I watched my son release the yo-yo out of his hand and it tumbled down toward the ground. Right as it bottomed out, he flicked his wrist and it magically returned to his hand, where he repeated the process.
I remember trying to work a yo-yo. My dad would tell me, “It’s all in the wrist”. Guess I didn’t have a very good wrist. I couldn’t get the movement and timing down just right to last more than 2 passes up and down. It usually ended with me wanting to chunk the silly thing. So I thought it best for all to stop.
My husband and I were having a conversation about routine when he brought up the word rhythm. I was telling him how I can long for routine in my life, but it looks a lot like my attempts at yo-yoing and falls flat as soon as I think I caught it. The thought of doing something consistently for a long period of time seems to snuggle next to me and feel as though life has swaddled me up. I feel safe and the boundary lines are right there. But maybe I’ve interchanged “comfort zone” with “control zone”. Sometimes embedded under the guise of “comfort” is really my ability to control what I do and don’t do. In this zone, I don’t have to think too much. Like a dance routine that is practice hundreds of times until the dancer can perform it in her sleep, I have played over how to handle this and I got it! And then “it” changes.
Well, Adam challenged me with a new concept. He said,
“There’s routine and then there’s rhythm. When you can adjust to changes well, you find your rhythm. But, everything doesn’t look a certain way.”
He went on to compare routine to a one string guitar. You can only strum one note over and over again. You might play it well, but still…it’s one note! If that string ever breaks, you have no more music. Rhythm, on the other hand, can fluctuate between other strings. You’re not solely dependent on one string for music. It’s going to look different, though, each time for each chord.
I think how beautiful it looks when a dancer dances in time with the music. Or in a musical performance, how pleasing the sound when each instrument plays at its allotted time. It’s as if the two components act as one. In the same light, but looking at the other side, think how awkward it sounds and feels when one of those components gets off beat even slightly. Yes, you just cringed inside.
My life is ever changing. As soon as I got the feed me, change me, put me to bedroutine to infant life, they wanted to add play with me in there. As soon as I got “good” (maybe “used to” is a better term) with one kid, I had another. As soon as my house was beginning to be clean, I started home schooling! The list goes on.
How many books are written stating “How to determine if your baby’s crying because she’s hungry or dirty or sleepy? Here are 5 steps to fix the problem”?
Well, like the yo-yo, I guess it’s all in the wrist. Caleb couldn’t tell me the exact second I’m supposed to pull the yo-yo up. He just says, “Wait, till it gets…THERE, NOW!” I have to Study. Observe. Watch. Wait. Listen. Drop the mindless routine and feel the music God’s playing around me. Take a minute to pick up on the rhythm and then join in. Yes, I might mess up and everyone will notice, but they’ve messed up too. It might look different from how someone else does it, but who wants to look like everyone else? It doesn’t say to make beautiful music unto the Lord. It says to make a joyful NOISE, and that requires more than one string!
Dear Lord, help me feel the rhythm of Your song over me and move into step accordingly. Help me not be distracted by the other dancers moving so much more gracefully than me or even cast a haughty glance at those further behind than me. Keep my eyes on YOU! Amen
Putting it In Our Own Words,