Voices…sounds that are formed in the larynx and uttered with the mouth.
That which varies in pitch and resonance, giving us peace or angst, joy or sorrow, contentment or longing…voices.
A voice can bring a different feeling for each individual, depending on the tone and spirit behind it.
Hearing a baby uttering their first word (and prayerfully it is “Mommy” or “Daddy” and we do not hear a defiant “NO!”) or enduring their tired whine…
Listening to the laughter and nonsense chatter of children at play or the screeching words that grip the spine of every adult, “MINE! MINE! MINE!”…
Enjoying the sweet and dulcet tones of a gifted singer or the crackling that comes from someone who couldn’t find the right note with a flashlight and a road map, bless their heart…
It all involves a sound, emanating from the voice box.
As a lifelong lover of good music, there is nothing more pleasant to these tired ears than the clear and certain sound from those gifted in song.
My brother, Jim, says that you really can’t beat family harmony, and I know it is true. What makes this so is that family members tend to have the same rhythm and sound to their speech. Consequently, when they sing the harmony is tight and they blend so much easier than the average group.
While it would be wonderful if every voice was a pleasant sound, the truth is, there are just some voices that grate on the last nerve. Even my own voice sometimes makes me weary.
But then there are those voices you would love to hear again…
The last time I heard the voice of my brother it was last year on this date. David called to wish me Happy Birthday. We spoke for a short while, maybe 10 minutes or so…not long at all considering it was to be our last conversation.
Had I only known I would never hear his voice again…oh my! There were so many things left unsaid, but we thought we had all the time in the world, ya know? And we had just spent a weekend together a few weeks before, so I suppose we didn’t feel the need to stay on the phone all day. We talked a bit, I thanked him for the birthday call, we both said, “I love you,” and it was over.
Two days later he was gone.
I treasure his call. I don’t think I shall ever celebrate a birthday again without remembering that it was the last time I heard his voice.
But thank the Lord for memories. Memories warm the heart and bring a smile to the tear stained face. My brother was a funny dude, and what a time he would have had with this birthday, as it marks another milestone…as a friend says, “Today I am 50-10!” David would have gotten great mileage out of that.
Today let me encourage you to treasure the voices, for when they are silenced, and all that remains is a memory, it is too late to reach for words left unspoken.
Make the call. Drive the distance. One day, you will be SO glad you did.
