Earlier this week I experienced a phenomena unknown to me. I lost my voice.
I’d been fighting a virus for about a week and thought I was on the mend when I awoke and tried to speak. I squawked like a chicken awaiting the axe. Nothing but air and wheeze. Surprised my husband, too.
I rasped as I asked him for a loaf of bread from the freezer. He said, “Why do I need to change the bed clothes?”
Hmm. We had a problem.
I’ve battled plenty of nasty bugs over the years. You know the ones—rivers run through your sinuses, congestion clogs your ears, sandpaper grates your lungs. But none of them had ever claimed my voice.
Now that probably wouldn’t prove a problem for some couples, but my husband, on a scale of one to ten for deafness, is a nine. I fixed breakfast without giving it a thought, then tried calling him to the table. I banged on a pan, coughed, and tried to whistle. Had to go find him.
The inability to communicate with one another doesn’t always involve a virus. The problem can be a lack of understanding between parties. Congressmen lose connection to their constituents. Moms can’t make their point with offspring. Friends misinterpret another friend’s meaning. The word jams go on and on.
When an author pens words to a page, she needs to take special care to convey the thought she hopes the reader will grasp. What emotion should the audience feel? Does the sentence probe the reader’s subconscious, eliciting a need to release tears or produce a belly laugh? Will the reader come away touched, the emotion embedded in his mind as he remembers what he read. Leaving the impression one hoped to convey can be tricky, at best.
Despite the barriers a virus produced, my husband and I figured out a way to make our needs known to one another. I groaned and he grimaced, but ultimately we laughed our way through. Now I pray my written words can effectively communicate God’s love to you, my readers.
In Psalm 19:14 (KJV) we are told: “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.”
2 Replies to “When Communication Fails”
Ohhh, Pat… Praying blessings of healing over you. Losing one’s voice is the pits. For some reason, without fail, this happened to me three Easters in a row. We live in the Ozarks where the temperatures shift in a heartbeat, and I believe that adds to whatever virus I seem to catch around that time.
I hate that you were sick, but can I just say that you gave me a tiny giggle as I thought of you banging on that pan for your beloved! As you know…there is a story here. 🙂
Resourcefulness is my middle name. Seriously, how do you call a deaf man to breakfast when you have no voice? You don’t! Thanks for writing.