Have You Ever Heard the Voice of an Angel?
I have
I will lift my voice to sing Your praise, O my Strength — for You came to my defense. O God, You have shown me Your loving mercy. (Psalms 59:17, VOICE)
She was so beautiful, and when she would get behind the podium to sing, she had the voice of an angel. I would look at her in awe. Through my little girl’s eyes, I could see a hint of light around her head. Was it a halo? Yes, it must be.
When I told her, she laughed.
Her house was kept orderly, neat, clean, and tidy as her beautiful soprano voice wafted through the tiny home with familiar hymns. Everything had a place, including the folded pajamas under the pillows. The floors were so clean one could eat off them. The hardwood floors were almost as shiny as a mirror.
The clothes were washed and pressed. An old wringer washer with rinsing tubs was outdated even in those days, but that is what she could afford. Ironing was required. On Saturday evening, the children’s shoes were polished to a bright shine and lined in a row, getting ready for the feet of five children going to church the next day.
The smell of a roast or a meatloaf in the oven overpowered the scent of a peach cobbler or baked goody. There was always a dessert.
Her hands were never idle. They were either sewing, crocheting, or doing a crossword puzzle. Her nose was often found in a book. Who could say how many books she devoured in her life? It had to be in the thousands. She was so intelligent.
She enjoyed nature. She taught her children to see and appreciate the clouds and the colors that painted the evening sky. This was her quiet way of teaching her children gratitude to God. She pinched her pennies yet gave willingly to church and the needy.
She sometimes laughed until she cried, danced a jig, and sang a tune that required yodeling. Her children listened with wide-eye wonder at that particular talent.
She used to say, “When you think of a person you haven’t seen in years, pray for them, and when God opens a parking space, give God thanks.”
A little girl’s eyes do not fully understand this woman’s worth. Yet, an older woman finally sees.
How can I say thanks
For the things You have done for me?
Things so undeserved
Yet You gave to prove Your love for me
The voices of a million angels
Could not express my gratitude
All that I am and ever hope to be
I owe it all to Thee. (My Tribute words by Andrae Crouch)
This song is a tribute to God through Jesus, but the lyrics aptly fit the hands and feet of Jesus in this woman — my mother. I think the voice of God was in her, not only when she sang but in her gentle way of revealing Christ.
Oh, how I miss my mother and her big blue eyes. I can’t tell you how often I reached for my phone to ask her a question. There are so many things I would like to know, things I failed to ask when she was here.
In the meantime, my consolation is knowing that my angel-voiced mom is singing, dancing, and perhaps even yodeling before God’s throne in heaven. I plan on joining her one day.
Dear Father in Heaven, Please tell my mom, “Thank you, and I love you.” Amen.
