Reprinted from the November / December 2013 issue of “Christian Woman” Magazine.
It is not possible for me to be quietly joyful. I discovered that in a Sears store when I stepped on the escalator going down. The tune, “Whistle While You Work,” barely escaped my lips in a low whistle, scarcely a whisper, I thought. Immediately I heard the next few notes whistled by someone near the bottom of the escalator. My husband and I glanced at each other and chuckled. A stranger and I had made a momentary tuneful connection. That was a surprise to me, and not in keeping with my quiet nature, but it was fun.
At home I listened to music and sang along with the radio or CDs while I cleaned the kitchen. Hymns of praise were some of my favorites. My husband blamed me when he caught himself humming or singing hymns at the office. I smiled and thought, “Thank you, Lord.”
I grew up in a singing family. My sisters and I sang every day while doing our chores. It took us forever to wash and dry the dishes because we got carried away with singing. It made doing the dishes more fun. But some people aren’t tuned in to spreading joy. I once overheard my aunt ask my mother, “Does it get on your nerves – the way the kids sing all the time?”