Laundry, Ringtones, and other spiritually significant things

First, I need to brag.

My little Shae did this. By herself. With no help at all. My little 6-year old Shae. The same little 6-year old Shae who goes into absolute hysterics when her brothers don’t acknowledge her new dress looks pretty. (Which, basically, NEVER happens.) She may well have the highest pitched whiny voice ever to be heard, but boy, can she fold some clothes like a pro. 1st grade boys, take note. She likes to cook, too. ☺

But now onto the subject of this post. Which still happens to be about little miss Shae.

Oh, and my Blackberry.

Ever since my free month of “Don’t Stop Believing” ringtone expired on my phone, I haven’t gotten another one. Honestly, my phone rings a lot, and usually during times I don’t want it to. So I have been keeping it on vibrate 24-7, as not to disturb the peace in various places in and around Charlotte. But the downside to that is that I miss a lot of phone calls in the process.

So after retrieving my 27 voice mail messages the other day, I decided it was time for a new ringtone.

The dilemma ensued.

What song should I get? Another awesome 80’s tune? A top 20 hit I secretly like dancing to but have lyrics that aren’t suitable for…basically anyone?

And then it hit me.

I could hear Shae from the other room, reciting what has become somewhat of an anthem in my house as of late, it’s been said so many times. The Hannah Montana “Hoe Down-Throw-Down,” to be more specific. Those of you who know it, know what I’m talking about. It’s rather…(and strangely)…addictive. It involves words said with a southern drawl…specific motions to the words…and a whole lot of sass. Shae qualifies to say it on all counts.

And so she was, “hoe-downing, throw-downing” once, again. I smiled when I heard her, the sound was so familiar and so sweet.

And that’s when I decided to make it my ringtone.

So now, when you call my cell, I hear the sweet sound of my high-pitched 6-year-old saying, “Pop it. Lock it. Polka dot it. Country fry it. Hip-hop…cross the floor…” I’m not sure the general public will appreciate hearing it like I do, but I don’t care. I love to hear the sound of my sweetheart’s voice, regardless of the particular content.

It made me think about how much God loves to hear the voice of His kids…how when He hears our particular and specific “ringtone,” He delights in the prospect of the one He loves being on the other end. I thought about how I smile when I hear that sweet voice of the one I love…and how He must smile when He hears his child’s voice when we place the call to have a conversation with Him.

It is the simple aspects of God’s character that I often lay down and saturate myself in. His pure and undying love. His joy in His children. His devotion and care.

These are things I relate to.

And now, as if it didn’t before, this pitchy ringtone from my sweet little 6-year old, Shae, has even more significance.

Oh, and did I mention she can fold a mean load of laundry?