I'm craving conversation. (Not good for a west coast night owl whose most chatty friends live on the other side of the country!) Suddenly I realize that it's the end of the day, and I haven't uttered a single audible word to a single soul, except maybe to say "thank you" to the kind gentleman who held the door for me at the post office. No wonder!
The awareness doesn't make me sad. I have many other means of connecting, which I've used well today. A few text exchanges with an east coast buddy kept me in my car laughing like crazy for a good half hour in the post office parking lot. A flurry of emails flew in and out as projects moved along throughout the day. I even chatted a while ago on facebook with a Florida friend whose throbbing toe was keeping her up late. But it makes me wonder how many people go days at a time without a verbal connection. And that does make me sad.
Our voices, with all their God-given nuances & subtleties, are an intimate part of who we are. Friends recognize me, not just my voice, as soon as I say hello on the telephone. The tone and texture of my voice are unique to me. Even my Droid recognizes my voice as belonging to me. It responds when I give it a verbal command to search or to dial. My voice speaks as much to my identity as the impression of my fingerprints do, lined across the bottom of my birth certificate.
Tomorrow, when I can choose between the two dimensional expression of an email, and the rich, intimate expression of the human voice, I think I might choose to call the audible.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:14a (NIV)
2 comments:
Some days, that quietness leaves writers talking out loud. I've been known to talk to the laundry, the chair and other inanimate objects!
You too, Sally? I pace in the living room and speak out loud my thoughts. Sometimes I pound my fist in the air and run in place to emphasize my opinion.
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