Sore Throats & Lullabies

Dear coworkers,

If tomorrow is anything like today where I am unable to speak any louder than a choking whisper, I'm sorry. I did not make enough effort to whittle down this head cold into something that sounds less humorous. Trust me, I'd rather be curled up in bed with a Stephen King novel and a steaming mug of Theraflu. Instead, I spent the late evening singing my daughter to sleep.

There's a funny thing about five year old girls. They usually don't care if you're sick. Mommy or Daddy being exhausted or ill is a difficult concept to understand. My little girl might have more empathy than a typical kindergartener, but certain things are lost in translation when she's sad or upset. It's moments like these that my own pain or my own sadness is irrelevant.

So please excuse me. When my little girl wanders into my office and curls up in my lap like a 40 pound kitten, my plans for rest take a back seat.

I turned out the lights, pulled a blanket around her shoulders and began to sing. Well, I'm not sure if you'd call it singing. Raspy, rattling, off key buzz, interrupted by an occasional wheeze or cough. It hurt but I made my best attempt to sing.

And why did I choose to sing and cuddle over taking medication and finding a cool pillow? Because I believe there's healing in music. Maybe not the kind of healing that will chase away my sore throat, but the kind that fixes wounded hearts and mends broken spirits.

So I sang.

Songs like Switchfoot's Don't Be There - "You be around and I'll be square." Like Pedro the Lion's Lullaby - "You can lay down your armor and have no fear, 'Cause I'm always here when you're tired of running, And I'm all the strength that you need." Songs like The Scientist by Coldplay - "Nobody said it was easy, No one ever said it would be this hard." Or Are You Sad? by Our Lady Peace - "Oh just stop pretending when they say you're nothing." Songs like Much Afraid by Jars of Clay or Sarah McLachlan's version of The Rainbow Connection. And finally wrapping it up with these words: "I got nothing of my own to give to you, but this light that shines on me shines on you and makes everything beautiful again, it'll be all right, it'll be all right" from Stars by David Crowder Band.

And honestly, what message could be better? I'm sick, my daughter is sad. Are there any better words to hear than "It'll be all right, it'll be all right"?

Tonight, I chose emotional health over physical health. But tomorrow it will be cough drops and DayQuil. I promise.