#AtoZChallenge: My Favorite Things V

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Voices

I am listening to voices all day long, not the ones in my own head, but the voices of the people around me. The sound of each voice evokes immediate response, sometimes good, sometime not so good. As much importance as we put on first impressions, we talk more about visual appearance than what we hear when a person opens their mouth to talk. Both are important – my opinion.

The voices I hear give clues as to their age, their strength, their state of mind, the passion behind what they speak of, and their opinion of me. All of this registers within seconds.

The voices I know best and love are a joy to listen to.

My husband’s voice is soft (almost too soft) and low. It’s a good comforting voice, most of the time.

My oldest daughter’s voice is youthful, thoughtful, appropriately authoritative at times.

My youngest daughter’s voice is measured, rhythmical, careful.

My mother’s voice is cheerful, content, trusting, quick to laugh.

My friend’s hint of foreign accent delights me.

Another friend has a voice of strength and conviction that I admire.

Some voices are recognizable even if I have not heard them for years. Even over the phone, the college friend or hometown buddy has a voice that quickens my memory of them. Voice prints are so specific that they are even being used for official authentication in some places. They are even being used as art!

I marvel at the voices that read audio books these days. I think that would be such a fun job for a person with a good voice, one that is flexible and expressive. Voices that sing – a whole other category – can be totally surprising. Sometimes I watch “The Voice” which proves that point over and over. You can never be sure what someone will sound like from looking at them. Not even close,

There are voices that, possibly through no fault of their own, sound like they are causing pain to the speaker. That pain transmits to my ears and makes them difficult to listen to. The voice that is forced out, gravelly, or tight and strained make me suspect hard times have been weathered. The voice that is arrogant, angry, uninterested makes me sad, and I do not want to listen even though listening is probably what is needed.

I know how I want my voice to sound but speaking is so natural and spontaneous that I often forget to evaluate, to think of what others are hearing.

 

Have you listened to a recording of your own voice lately? Does it surprise you?

The Voice of Condemnation

Condemn: to express strong disapproval of, to show or declare guilt, to declare unfit for use.

Every now and then the voice of condemnation makes a bid for prominence in my day, my thoughts and feelings.  It’s often when I hear the story of a famous, influential person who has accomplished a lot, or when I hear a tribute to someone who used their talent in an extraordinary way and influenced many lives for better.  I am tempted to look at my very small circle of influence and compare.  The voice points out the ways in which I have not been courageous, or diligent, or faithful, or willing to be involved.

Yesterday I entered the doctor’s waiting room, signed in and took a seat.  There was a late 20’s aged girl totally absorbed in telling her life story to an elderly couple.  She recounted her home life, her dysfunctional relationship with her father, mother and brother, and the situation she was presently involved in.  There were many complaints, tales of poor decisions (blamed on others, of course) and all voiced loudly enough that I had a hard time concentrating on the book I was trying to read.  I was wishing not to hear her after five minutes, but after fifteen minutes I was actually considering going outside to escape and asking the desk to call me when it was my turn to go back. The elderly couple was called back and she no longer had an audience, which clearly upset her.  She changed chairs and started making comments to herself about how sick she was.  She got up and kicked a book off the chair next to her, sat down on that chair, and mentioned out loud how she was not going to pick up the book because she was too sick.  I was SO grateful to be called about then and spared having to get into a conversation with her. She had “needy” written all over her and I didn’t want to deal with it.

You see, I am very aware of the miraculous ways in which God is walking into people’s lives and changing their course, and yet I am not always willing to get involved.  The truth is that when I have been involved in situations similar to that, they have not turned out well.  Over time I have seen that I am ineffective when it comes to counseling, reasoning with people to enlighten them, thinking of what to say to help them.  I am not able to change hearts, and much of the time I can’t even figure out what their need is and how to approach them.  Here’s where the voice of condemnation would like to finish me off. It would like me to think that I was responsible, and that it is now over, too late.  The voice repeats “It’s about you, and your failure.”

I have been convicted of my part and in response I am asking for crazy boldness, extra resourcefulness, time at the right time, and discernment.  I know God can teach me these things.  I know he forgives me for falling short.  If I hear a condemning voice, it is not his and I had better ask who that voice belongs to.  It is never too late for God to show what he can do, in fact the later it seems, the more awesome he proves himself to be.

“so, there is now no condemnation…”    The Bible, Romans 8:1

Guess what? It is not about me (or any of us). The whole story is about God and what he has done, is doing and will do yet. It is not over, not too late.  It’s in progress and we are part of it, a special part, but it is not about us.  That is pretty good news, just sayin’…