Stop, Children, What's That Sound?

Spring has exploded on the scene here in Memphis. It was one of the coldest winters I can remember, but suddenly it's 70 degrees and my first buttercups have opened, revealing their bright yellow faces.

With the coming warmth, I've been putting around the yard working on garden plots, putting out early vegetables, and cleaning bee equipment. It sounds a little weird here in the middle of a Memphis neighborhood, but hey - that's how I roll.

I've discovered something about my time in the yard that really hit me full force last year. There are sounds in my neighborhood! I never noticed them before because I always had an iPod strapped to my hip and headphones firmly dug into my ears. There are unwelcome sounds, like loud cars and occasional gunshots (infrequent, thank goodness!). But there are wonderful sounds. Sounds of kids playing, sounds of birds singing and dogs barking. I've realized how out of tune I've been with neighborhood by failing to listen. It's like some tone-deaf man singing in the choir. Everyone else is working together to produce a beautiful melody except that one man, doing his own thing, oblivious to how the whole works together.

When you listen, you engage. When I hear the dogs bark, then I know they have encountered something that makes them anxious. When the kids are laughing and singing in the yard across the street, then all is well. When the loud music is banging away from the neighbor's car stereo system while he washes his car, then you know that you're not alone in enjoying the gift of good weather and creation that God has provided.

Now that I listen, I hear the children walk up behind me, suspicious of what I might be up to. I can spend anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour enrolling the neighborhood kids in gardening, cleaning, or just conversation. When I notice the man next door cleaning his work truck, it gives me an opportunity to ask how the business is going. When I hear a car roaring down the street, I can step out and give a nod, letting him know that I care about the kids on my block, and that he should too. Slow down.

It's easy to withdraw into our cocoons. I like to shut out the world and keep to myself. But the community - and I - am so much richer when I take the opportunity to listen and engage.