A few weeks ago, I sat alone in my house nursing a rainy day of the soul.
Outside, the weather was wet and dreary and the repair works in a downstairs apartment added to the tempest.
But in the midst of the cacophony, a whistle pierced the air – a workman, found his song in the mundane of the day.
I was transported back to my childhood.
To a different sound of hammer and nail. And the whistles of one man, my father, as he worked and soothed the blues in my soul.
My father was a buildings contractor by profession. He was hands-on guy through out his life – tearing down, building, fixing and repairing anything that glanced his way or appeared crooked (and there was plenty).
We lived near a seasonal army base, where bombs would go off almost daily.
Being his last born child and a scary-cat, I surreptitiously followed him all over the compound. I tagged along as he worked in the farm, played at a distance as he cut nappier grass, repaired fences, mended buildings, fed the cows.
And I remember his whistling.
I still don’t get the science of it but my father’s whistles made me feel okay.
The sound, rising above the noise of hammer or whatever gadget he had in hand, had me believing he was a very happy man
And a happy father made a very happy secure daughter.
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We are only as strong as what we believe in.
All his life, my father was a strong man.
He was my hero. He single-highhandedly wrestled 800-pound plus bulls and forced medicine down their throats. He patrolled and secured our farm at night with a machete, short spear and park of dogs.
His name was on every neighbors’ lips when cattle rustlers attacked – more often than not, he would be the first responder.
And he whacked us hard, really hard, so we’d make something of ourselves.
I was strong because my father was strong.
What do you believe in?
I don’t know about you but when all I have is me, I tend to creep around life, living according to the tides, waves and crescendos of my heart.
What keeps me sane and grounded, no longer afraid of the bombs and noise around me, is believing in Someone greater than myself.
If you profess to be a Christian, life will eventually demand that you live up to your name – Christ-like.
Do you believe that God has a good plan for your life? Do you believe that He is at peace in spite of the circus around you?
You may profess the mightiness of your God in peaceful times. But we must understand that moments of distress and crisis force our true beliefs to rise to the surface.
If you are wandering and anxious, maybe you need to re-focus. Maybe you need to remember His joyful whistles. Like me, you may not understand all the workings and science of it. You just need to embrace it.
A mentor of mine once told me that success does not come from working my fingers to the bone.
But from knowing the Author of success.
If you know that He got you, you will be at peace, in spite of seasons of unrest.
How are you keeping your peace today?
“If you are wandering and anxious, maybe you need to re-focus.” Thanks for this timely reminder. I also go into a cocoon when all that am left to turn to is myself. Thank God He is always there.
They say when you feel God being far as yourself, “Who moved?” Totally love this post, I imagined you at that age, and it’s true we may not understand it, nut just knowing that God never forsakes us keeps us standing when everything else isn’t working.