I lost my voice to a mild cold virus. As some of you know, I'm a singer, and for me not to be able to even hum a tune is very claustrophobic feeling. I was trying to make it up by whistling. Not the same.
A nice side benefit is that when I whisper, everyone else does, too. This has been a very quiet Monday for us, and kind of peaceful. I should not talk more often. But I guess that's what God asks of us, too, sometimes. Stop talking so much and listen.
It makes me think of those who take a vow of silence. What are they able to accomplish with their hands in the absence of words? This is a consideration I've thought about on occasions when I think of the value of God's gifts to me. Would I serve Him and love Him, even if He took the gifts back?
About a year ago, I started to suffer severe pain in my wrists. I play and teach piano, so this was very stressful for me. Finally, God and I had a talk. I realized that if He wanted to take away my ability to play piano (even for church) that I would be fine with it. But if He wanted me to keep playing than He would have to heal me. Guess what. I began to improve almost immediately. Sure, I still have some soreness when I've overdone it (usually on the computer, not the piano), but I rarely wear wrist guards anymore and know that God wants me to continue serving Him with music.
Back to today: there are a few moments that it'd be really great to have a voice. Like when Sam almost put his hand in my hot soup at lunchtime, or MD asks a question from downstairs. But a vigilance on my part saved Sam from discomfort (it wasn't scalding, thank God) and a whispered reply from the top of the stairs travels quite well, if the child is listening.
I'm praying I get my voice back by tomorrow. I enjoy reading books to the boys and it is supposed to be our library day, but we'll see. There are worse things than not being able to talk much or sing. The only one not complaining: my husband.