I'm sitting here at the desktop computer and my husband is on the floor next to me with two laptops and an external hard-drive trying to piece together the wreckage of a system crash.

This, of course, makes for some very distracted writing since this is the most quality time we have had in at least a week. He occasionally bursts out with some random fact or story, and his itunes playlist seems to be loaded with songs about Brian Wilson. Does that take an obsession too far, when songs written and performed by your favorite artist aren't enough, and you have an entire collection of songs about him?

I am often jealous of my husbands time and ability to seek out and find new and interesting music. I have always had a musical spirit. I still remeber what it felt like to sit on my floor, next to my salmon pink clock radio and tape player (remeber tapes?) and try for the perfect mixed tape. No downloading, just waiting for your chosen dj to play that elusive favorite song that you always seem to catch in the middle. Cuing up the tape to just the right spot and the utter excitement when you caught the song after the first note...and then the heartbreak when the sation call letters were spoken over the last ten seconds of the song and you had to start again.

I had a notebook I used to keep song lyrics in. Again, no easy feat when you don't have the trust internet and google to do your bidding. Play. Pause. Write. Rewind...repeat.

Tonight in church I was once again overtaken by the power of music. Lifting my voice to worship The Lord in song, I felt the entire day melt away. the late appointments, cranky kids, and erands left undone seemed to disapear as I sang words that my heart could not have composed more perfectly.

A plea to God, of a broken hearted girl leaning on Him for every need.

I was refreshed. Requiped. And ready to stand up straight, no longer bowed over with the days burdens.

God is so good to meet me just where I am. To show His face to me in the ways He knows i can see...even when I am unprepared.