The voices of two beloved people are missing from my life—the curious, loving, quirky voice of my "adopted" mom, Diana and the inquisitive, witty, challenging voice of my baby brother, Matthew.
Both voices I heard almost every day, whether on the telephone or in person. Both voices I miss desperately. Both voices belonged to sounding boards, sources of humor, and loving members of a family doing life together.
And now they're gone. Except on recordings or videos—which I have to tell you are not the same, but powerful enough to spark automatic tears of joy and sorrow.
I talked to Diana when I had chores to do. Why? Because she, God bless her, wasn't named Gabba by her grandchildren by accident. She would talk and I would work. I'd input here and there, and sometimes, our conversations would dive so deep I'd have to stop folding clothes long enough to process. I'd also call her while I walked or ran. She got a kick out of that because she considered those "gab" sessions, her exercise regime, too. I'd give anything to walk around the block with her one more time on this side of heaven.
Matthew's conversations always went beyond surface and sometimes made me think so hard, my head hurt. I would take him on walks too, and by the end of my 2-mile loop, I had been physically and intellectually worked out. And he almost always made me laugh. That throw-your-head-back-with-abandon sense of humor is unparalleled and there's a part of me that will wait in anticipation until I can see that smile and hear that laugh, again.
Please understand, I have many other loved ones whose voices I cherish. Encouraging, generous, wonderful people who I pray I will hear for many years to come.
But, their voices, like Diana's and Matthew's, are unique. We can simultaneously be grateful for what we have and yearn for what is temporarily missing.
I've sought the Lord's voice during the absence of the unique tones of Diana and Matthew. I have completed chores and walked many miles in silence, thinking and praying. Processing. And that's not a bad thing—in fact, it's very good. But it doesn't take away the missing of the voices I held so close to my heart.
Here are some scriptures that remind me of God's voice in my life:
The Lord your God is with you; the mighty One will save you. He will rejoice over you. You will rest in is love; he will sing and be joyful about you. Zephaniah 3:17
See what kind of love the Father has given to us that we should be called children of God and so we are. I John 3:1
God thunders with His voice wondrously, Doing great things which we cannot comprehend. Job 37:5
And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. I King 19:12
Even though my ears desperately want to hear those voices again, God, through His word, is teaching me how to listen—especially to Him.
His joyous exalting.
His thunderous, wonderful, rumblings.
His low whispers.
And in the missing, I'm thankful.
Moving with scribbles,
Amanda Williams is a forty-year old wife and mother of two who can still swing her pony tail and display just a tad of sass. She is also a Jesus loving girl who realizes she is nothing without the One who saved her. Amanda has two degrees specializing in serving students with special needs and is currently working in the field of Leadership Development. She is a Christian author, speaker, blogger, and publisher who loves serving beside her husband at her local place of worship, First Baptist Church of Ocala.