I hear that sound is a vibration. It’s a vibration that travels through the air and reaches the ears. When it reaches the organ of hearing, it takes a journey through the intricate and tiny parts that make up the ear. The journey is not simple. The vibration must bounce to and fro, on drums and bones, causing things in the atmosphere to shift and move. All of this is done, simply to push the vibration along. Then the vibration must swim its way through a sea of liquid just to stimulate the cells in the ear, which causes hairs to rise and sensation to form. The end destination is the brain. Once there, the vibration can be interpreted. The vibration travels a long and hard way to simply bring a conscious perception to the listener. What is the purpose of that vibration? Why take the journey? Is the Sound trying to tell us something? What does the vibration know that we do not? It must have a grand scheme, for it to have fought its way to our brain. What was so important for the sound to have fought, to be heard. What does it want us to know? What is it trying to tell us? What can a sound offer us?
I am thinking about the many sounds that I have heard in my life. The sounds of joy, laughter, pain, love and the simple sounds of my surroundings. I remember the sounds that I heard when I was a little girl and I know the sounds I hear now. All of these sounds have taken the long journey to embed themselves in my brain and heart. What are they trying to tell me? What do these sounds want me to know?
Right now, I am thinking of the sounds I heard whenever I visited my Nana’s house. I remember the clicking and scraping sounds of a spoon hitting against metal, while it stirs a pot of gumbo. I can hear the popping of grease in a skillet full of bacon or fried chicken. I hear the boisterous laughter of my aunts as they scramble along the house helping their mom cook and do some housework. I hear the tv in the background playing a football game, while the voices of the men in my family discuss players and what the season will look like. I hear the squeals of my younger cousins as they play around the house and the screams of my older cousins as they argue over something that is not worth the talk. Of all these sounds, the sound that sticks out the most is the harmonious praises of my Nana. My nana loved to praise her God and still does. To me, her sound is like an art form. It comes so naturally to her as if she came out of the womb singing. But I do not think it is that simplest. To me, it has a formula to it. It comes with years of practice and pursuit. Her sound is not just a sound, but it is a vibration that is carrying a message. That message is earth-shaking. I believe that sound stimulates the mind of God and causes a sensation that moves heaven itself.
I am smiling thinking of it now. I can hear it clear as day. I can hear her melodious voice lifting the name of Jesus. I remember the comfort I felt when I heard that deep rumble in her voice. Though her voice has a sweetness to it, it is packed with power. When my Nana opens her mouth to sing, she is declaring war on the enemy and everyone that hears knows a war had been declared. She has this old gospel clap. Do you know what I am talking about? That one – and – two – and – three – and - four clap. Can you hear it now? It’s that kind of clap that shakes hell up and lets the devil know that she means business. She also has this shuffle. I can hear the clickity-clack of her heels as she moves along the floor. The Bible did say that David danced for joy. My Nana decided to join him in that pursuit. Her sound seemed to say, “The joy of the Lord is My strength”. The message that her vibration sends is that “The King was still The King”. Her sound proclaims that we serve a God, that will never be defeated. Her praise seems to speak the truth, that amid trials and troubles, it is for our benefit to lift a joyful song to the Lord. Her sound has always brought healing.
That sound has trickled down to the women who carry her bloodline. One of the strongest receivers of that vibration was my mom. My momma sang my Nana’s tune as well. My mommas’ weapon of choice was the tambourine. My momma hit that tambourine like there was no tomorrow. Darkness did not have a chance against her when her hand hit the middle of that wooden circle. Tickity-tack, tickty-tack! I can hear the sound of the silver jingles that would send a shock wave of praise through the building. When my mom played, everyone would catch the spirit.
My family was built on these sounds. That praise is the fabric that holds us together. Most of the women in my family carry that sound, including my generation. I have a cousin whose voice sounds like the feeling you get would get when you drive up a mountain and catch the sunrise over the peek. Her sister's voice is the same. My sister got a different variation of the sound. She has somewhat of a country twang to her vibration. Her sound seeps in your pores and soothes the soul. Like the old church ladies would say “That gurl can sang”.
And then there is me. That sound flows in my DNA. Praise is weaved into every being of my fiber. It would be impossible to separate those strands. If by happenstance you did, I would no longer be me. I do not know where I would be without my sound. My song springs from my inner being. It gurgles out of pain, suffering, happiness, and joy. When I open my mouth and start a vibration, my own heart thumps and I am awaked. My life is a song and my praise is my weapon. “Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, it, do”, is my war cry. My voice is not the only thing that goes to battle. When my fingers hit the keys of a piano, the vibration of that sound causes all the sorrow of the World and the voices of the enemy to disappear. The cries of the keys and the whine of its tones strip away the sorrows of the day.
I learned something about my Nana’s sound. It was not just a war cry, but an invitation. She wanted a specific man to join her in her sound. She wanted the King. I now know this, because I have experienced the King meeting me in my sound; it is our secret meeting place. The God of the universe finds sensation in my worship. This is the most intimate place for me. I do not often allow people into my inner gates, but I always invite the King. He comes when I let out a sound. He hears the anguish in my melody, and he rests in those vibrations. He also brings his own sound to join mine, a loud thunderous peace.
This combined sound that has journeyed down through my family, has carried its message with it. The women in my family have survived and fought using this sound. We had to. We had an enemy that was and is trying to take every single one of us out. We have all had to fight in this life and it was the sound of our praises that keep us in perfect peace. This is how the women in my family fight our battles.
All this to say, I will continue with this combined sound. Hopefully, one day, when I have my own family, that vibrations will reverberate off of our walls and be a covering over our home. My Nana’s sound taught me that I do have a weapon that will ambush the enemy. I am planning on using it until the day I die, and I hope that my daughter too, will hear it. I will forever be a woman of praise and His praises will forever be on my lips. I fought many battles and I know there are many to come. Like my Nan, I hear a vibration…..can you hear it?
Lord, I pray that people will begin to hear the sound that you have put in them. I pray that sounds will transform their lives.
- In the name of Jesus, Amen
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