Being Mute

I rearranged the chairs and stood there in the middle of the room holding the broom and thinking. I had just swept the floor, I tried to whistle while I worked, but it wasn't that easy and probably not a really good idea. This morning in the dim twilight I had amused myself by wondering whether or not my face would pop if someone took a pin and poked my face. Tuesday I was a gopher, yesterday I was a chipmunk, today I'm a pumpkin head. I find my condition rather comical.

That's why I couldn't whistle...because my cheeks were so puffed up. As I stood in the middle of the room with broom in hand I realized I hadn't talked at all yet today. I hardly talked yesterday, or the day before as well...but today, I've not said a word. I grabbed my Bible and pointed out a proverb to my mom, trying to keep myself from smiling while I did. Proverbs 10:19 "When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent." It was more of a joke than anything, because I really can't talk, but I don't feel like I've not been talking. 

Mom nodded her head and said a few things, I didn't say anything in reply but came away from the "conversation" feeling like I had actually just talked to her. It's surprising actually how little we communicate with our words. Let me rephrase that: how little we need to communicate with our words.

Words are vessels, but the one that delivers them and the way they deliver them all varies and is what determines the meaning of those words.

I've had extreme satisfaction in grunting to my little sisters and having them knowing right away what I want to convey. I use some sign language, and now and then I write a note or two.

I find that I really don't mind. In fact, I quite enjoy it.

Too often words mess things up. More often everyone just needs to take the time to listen. Another thing is that I can't really easily show how I'm feeling. My face can't change from it's concrete expression of boredom, even when that's the farthest thing from what I'm feeling.
So if I want to express what I'm feeling it must come from my actions. (Like Saint Augustine: "Preach the Gospel at all times, use words when necessary") So I swept the floor, changed my clothes, put on some music, vacuumed the floor, had a test (yes I took my Chemistry test!) graded and try to use my eyes to show the joy I have.

I wonder how much better off we would all be if we just stopped talking every now and then. Is it at all strange that I've wished that I could perhaps be mute sometimes? I would hate not singing...that would be terrible, but there's always dancing, and playing the piano. And since the only person that I can talk to without actually "talking" is God, I talk to Him much more.

It's more like a conversation.

Every now and then I mention something to Him that I might instead have mentioned to my Mom, or my siblings. Yesterday I also retrieved the joy in studying that I used to have.

I'm so thankful to God for all of this.

As I laid on the sofa last night, preparing myself for sleep, I said to myself (everything that I say nowadays is to myself), "Looks to me like getting my wisdom teeth out is just what I needed." In fact, it's been such an amazing experience (no one knows yet since I haven't told anyone, but I have written it all down) that this morning I thought, "I wouldn't terribly mind if my wisdom teeth grew back in just so that I could go through this again." Though I doubt my parents would appreciate paying for it. :) I don't think I'll have to count on wisdom teeth extractions though to renew me in such amazing ways because God's always faithful to take every situation and trial and shape us through them.

Tuesday afternoon, as soon as I got home until I could write no more, I wrote out my wisdom teeth operation story from the moment that I woke up to laying on the couch with a numb jaw. Of course the longest, hardest part is the recovery, but the operation was what I wanted to write about before all the details blurred and became more of a dream instead of reality. Maybe sometime I will post that story.

Every day that we wake up and are able to breathe and get out of bed is a day that we should praise Jesus. Actually, no matter what, whether or not we can get out of bed we should praise Him. Here's what I'm trying to say: if you wake up, praise Him, if you don't wake up, hopefully you'll be in His presence praising Him. :D

It's my hope that once I have my ability to talk again I will be more prudent with the words I use and more helpful by listening to others. I probably won't grunt, since I find it a bit unattractive to say the least, but I will strive to encourage Godly conversation more and more. For if I can come away from a conversation more aware of God and His majesty, then I consider that a very good conversation indeed.