You're welcome.

That girl's like a gun to my holsta...

I thought that I might have something worthwhile to say tonight, but as I sit, I realize I don't. There's too much blank space on this computer screen that I can't fill. Maybe I'm just not too good at putting my thoughts down on paper. Maybe I just don't need to. I've never been one for thinking out loud.

I've been thinking about music lately. How rap and rock make you feel angry, classical makes me relax, musicals make me alive, pop and country make me hyper. I'm very picky about what music I listen to and when. I have to be in the right mood. But currently there are two songs that I'm always in the mood for.

1.
Heaven is the face of a little girl
With dark brown eyes
That disappear when she smiles.
Heaven is the place
Where she calls my name
Says, “Daddy please come play with me for awhile.”

Chorus:

God, I know, it’s all of this and so much more,
But God, You know, that this is what I’m aching for.
God, you know, I just can’t see beyond the door.
So right now...

Heaven is the sound of her breathing deep,
Lying on my chest, falling fast asleep while I sing.
And Heaven is the weight of her in my arms,
Being there to keep her safe from harm while she dreams

And God, I know, it’s all of this and so much more,
But God, You know, that this is what I’m longing for
God, you know, I just can’t see beyond the door.

Bridge:

But in my mind’s eye I can see a place
Where Your glory fills every empty space.
All the cancer is gone,
Every mouth is fed,
And there’s no one left in the orphans’ bed.
Every lonely heart finds their one true love,
And there’s no more goodbye,
And no more not enough,
And there’s no more enemy.

Heaven is a sweet, maple syrup kiss
And a thousand other little things I miss with her gone.
Heaven is the place where she takes my hand
And leads me to You,
And we both run into Your arms.

Oh God, I know, it’s so much more than I can dream.
It’s far beyond anything I can conceive.
So God, You know, I’m trusting You until I see
Heaven in the face of my little girl,
Heaven in the face of my little girl.



Sorry, I know that's a lot to read through. I always hate reading lyrics. I'll link to the music because it's so much better if you hear it. I hope you've already heard it. I cry every single time. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3Mj6iOG1xM


2.
Shawty's like a melody in my head
That I can't keep out
Got me singin' like
Na na na na everyday
It´s like my iPod stuck on replay.....


You know what song I'm talking about. You know. I love this song. If a certain boy I know (you know who) and I had a song, it would probably be this one. At least this is the one I associate with Boy.



Meg.

Do you want something special?

There’s always a chance that something special will happen. Or someone special. Maybe in some special place. But whenever you are someplace, there is something special happening to someone around you. All you have to do is listen for it. Like the young couple who sit down on the bench. Listen, and you might hear him say, “Will you marry me?” Or the daughter, walking her little dog, smiles at her mother and asks, “When is my little sister going to be born?” Or you might see a simple smile on someone’s face, and you’ll know, that this day might not be special, but for some reason, right now is. But the danger in listening is this: the things you hear might not always be special. They might be terrible. Like hearing the words, “I can’t marry you.” Or hearing a mother say, “Baby, your sister…. isn’t coming.” Or seeing the jogger who just passed you burst into tears through the smile you thought was a special moment. But through all of these moments – the terrible and the special– the best and most perfect “special” comes through: when you walk over to the abandoned girl without an engagement ring. When you run over the sister-less child and throw a stick for her dog to chase. When you ask the jogger what’s wrong – and when through all of your efforts, if even one accepts your help, you have created the most special moment ever to be experienced.

-Megan