When someone dies, if we do not have a picture of them to remind us what they looked like, our vision of them fades; but quite often we can still hear their voice. I can still hear my brother singing, I can still hear his laugh, I can still hear his shy "Aww" with all its sing-song, gravelly inflections, when someone gave him praise or a hug. I was pondering this when it occurred to me that we probably develop hearing long before we develop vision. When I was pregnant with my daughter, I lived with my parents. When my daughter was about 8 hours old, her grandma held her and talked to her and their eyes met, and my daughter gazed into her eyes and listened to her for nearly half an hour. This is the voice she had heard for months before she was born. Once it was muffled, but now it was clear.
I was at a memorial service today and the voice of the man behind me was so rich and full and it was pure pleasure to listen to him. I have heard voices that are not so pleasant to listen to. I wonder what makes a voice pleasant or not. I wonder if all voices can be pleasant if used in a loving way--and I wondered if this man's voice could be unpleasant if he were angry and yelling.
As I was pondering his voice, and why it made me feel so wonderful, there was a reading from the gospel of John. "...and the sheep follow him because they know his voice..." I thought about how lovely the voices of the people I love are to me; how when I hear Laura's "Hi" when she comes in the front door I cannot help but smile or I hear my dad say, "Hi, Jode," how I feel all safe inside. I remember when Gary and I were engaged, how I would listen for his voice and get all giddy inside when I heard it. In the Song of Songs, Lover says to his Beloved, "Let me hear your voice." In Psalm 55, "Morning, evening and noon I cry out and he hears my voice."
Not only do we recognize our shepherd's voice, but he recognizes our voices. The shepherd knows his sheep by voice. Each voice is unique and he knows us by voice.
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Listen! My lover!
Look! Here he comes,
leaping across the mountains,
bounding over the hills.
Look! Here he comes,
leaping across the mountains,
bounding over the hills.
I listen intently for His voice. He calls me by a name He has given me, which no one else knows. My heart rejoices at the sound of His voice. I long to hear Him singing as He goes about His work. I will run to His side and hold Him, and never let Him go.
His voice pierces my heart.
