I have never really ever entertained the idea of the so-called 'vanity plates' for my car. While the extra cost of them is certainly a factor, I think my reluctance is more the idea that I wouldn't want to carry a particular message trailing behind me for such a long time. I am not sure I could choose wisely enough for such a commitment to a phrase.

But if by some chance I did choose to get these license plates, I might use the short hand version of a phrase that plays a significant role in telling the story in the movie 'Australia'. I am a little behind in my movie watching and just got around to watching this film the other night. Centered around the relationship of an English woman who moves to Australia and a young aboriginal boy, it is a sweeping tale of love and the pursuit of justice. As the woman learns the ways of the aboriginal people so oppressed by the whites, the young boy says to her: "I sing you to me." as a way of letting her know that wherever he goes, wherever she goes, when they need each other most, he will sing and they will find each other. As the film goes on, as she grows in her understanding, when he says these words, her response becomes: "And I will hear you."

These words have become ingrained in my psyche since seeing this film. Aren't they words we want to say and have said to us by so many? Parents want to know that somehow they can continue a deep connection even as the ones they held dear and watched grow travel far away to adventures of their own. "I sing you to me." Partners who watch loved ones leave to serve our country in dangerous places hold these words on their lips, in their hearts. "I sing you to me." Elders in places unfamiliar, lonely for the walls, furniture and artifacts that created their homes, hum these words to friends and family. "I sing you to me."  So many songs reaching out to be heard, connecting one person to another.

In 'Australia',this heart song taught by a small, brown boy to a powerful, white woman represents, I believe, the hope we all have. Someplace, somewhere, somehow, someone is singing a tune so rich and so deep that we will hear it and be found by it. In my imagination, I hear the Holy One's quiet yet distinct hum calling to each of us: "I sing you to me." And through dark days and days of great joy, through fear and trembling and rich laughter, over moments and sometimes decades, each of us will answer:"And I will hear you."

My license plates come due in October. Come winter if you notice a car carrying the message 'ISNGU2ME' that might be me. I hope to be heard.