I read an article in Guideposts the other day that told about a man who couldn’t talk for 7 weeks and it brought to me a memory of the time I couldn’t talk. I decided you might want to read about this.
I was just starting my new career after my husband died suddenly of a heart attack while he was still in his 30’s. At that time I had three children, Jim was 13, JoAnne 10 and Ron 4. My new career was as a Parish Worker at a Vancouver, Washington church. The work consisted of visitation, teaching, youth work and I directed 3 choirs. All had to do with my voice.
The work was progressing nicely and the children and I were developing a pretty good schedule as a single parent family, but I was noticing a hoarseness in my voice that was getting worse every day.
I finally went to the doctor who told me I needed an operation to remove a polyp, a growth in the lining of my throat.
“Will my voice be okay after you operate?” I asked knowing my job description needed my voice, plus my three children would operate better if I could talk! And I did want to sing.
“You will be okay after 6 or 7 weeks starting today with your beginning preparation for the surgery. But you must not talk at all during that time,” was his reply.
How on earth will I ever manage that? I thought on my way home. I prayed that God would make all things work out and He did! I told the kids they would have to answer me like puppy dogs with a whistle and I bought a pretty loud whistle and tied it around my neck. Ronnie would come running if I blew it only once. JoAnne answered to 2 blasts and Jim answered to 3. Besides what I wrote in a notebook, we managed pretty well.
My whistle worked pretty well at work too. When my choir members didn’t pay attention to their orders which were written down for them, I’d give them a blast of my whistle and things would get better. A choir mother helped quite a bit too. But my visitations proved to be harder. It would do no good to blow my whistle when I came to a new family home! I had things printed up for me but for that time I visited with only members of our church and I used a notebook and pen to talk to them.
I was extremely happy the day the doctor told me I could talk again! And I could sing too just the way I did before.
I knew then that God was with me every step of the way. Sure, I had to be a non quitter too, but that is something we all have to do, no matter what happens in our lives. Are you a non-quitter?