My Voice...

Voice...3-17-2025

So, I have been asked why I titled this blog, "Finding-My-Voice". Let's go way way way back to my life as a child. Most of the time the place we lived in did not have many rooms, never had running water, we had an outhouse, and I washed clothes on a ringer washer similar to the one in the image. We hung sheets on the windows for coverings. One night as my brothers, sisters, and I were lying in bed (all in one regular-sized bed), it was well after midnight when something woke me. My eyes adjusted to the light and I could see the moon shining through the sheet covering the window. A man was standing outside the window, smoking a cigarette, looking in. I could see him clearly through the white sheet. I could see the red glow from the cigarette and his face turned looking inside. I froze. My body would not move and no words would come to scream or call for anyone. I couldn't even reach my hands out to touch those beside me. I remember a guttural moan as if I was having a nightmare. My words trying to come, but nothing coherent. He stood there, looked inside until he smoked his cigarette, and then moved on. I couldn't go back to sleep and when morning came, we found the multiple cigarette butts outside the window.

There have been many people who have asked why I didn't fight back when I was abused and assaulted as a child/teenager. I couldn't move. I was inside a helpless body that could not speak or fight. From time to time I have nightmares. The words won't come. I can't speak or move. I can only moan. A sound my husband and friends compare to that of a wounded animal that has been caught and is trying to escape. Occasionally throughout the years, my husband has heard these sounds. He lets me sleep, but most of the time he will not say a word when I finally wake up. When I ask him if it happened, he will say, "Yes" and we go on. I have found throughout the years that these times always coincide when I don't feel I have a voice within a situation. I feel that I can't speak and need to express myself. Our good friends are the only others who have heard this. I must say, it scared them the first time we were on vacation and they heard the sounds. But this doesn't happen often. I know now that the sounds are a foretelling and I begin to analyze and try to realize why I don't feel like I have a voice.

You see, the title of my blog has to do with being able to "find my voice" in a world that often doesn't want to hear anything other than what is acceptable to them. A voice that comes through my hands when my mouth won't express what I feel. John 10:27 states, "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me." My voice comes from the One who knows me, loves me, and will always protect me even as a scared child who couldn't speak. He loves me anyway. I John 5:14-15 tells us that if we know God, if we KNOW Him, we can ask and He will hear us. He will hear our voice. He is our Shepherd and He knows our voice. "This is the confidence we have in approaching God: That if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him."

Now if you know me now, you would not be able to believe that I was quiet, introverted, and hesitant to speak at all. Sometimes I still am when I am analyzing my surroundings, feel misplaced, do not feel that my opinion is important, or I am in a new group of people. When I am comfortable or the Lord leads, I can't keep my voice quiet. There is a song "Unashamed" that reminds me of how I feel about God. I am unashamed because in Him I have a voice. I have a voice because I asked God for one. That voice may be my hands, but that voice is of God and He provided it. In him, I will Find My Voice and be unashamed.