I get to use my voice a lot. Not today. It’s out. Took a break. Adios.
I don’t always use it well, but I definitely use it, and it carries a lot of weight occupationally. Speaking, singing, teaching, it’s all vocal. So when it’s gone, so is work.
I thought, what if I lost it forever? What would I do? The only other thing I’ve ever done is build cars and trucks.
I stunk at it, but yes, I built vehicles. Not by myself. I had a lot of help. I was one of a billion people on an assembly line. Everybody did one little thing, and at the end, all the little things turned into a Camaro.
And it didn’t require talking. Not at all. In fact, nobody wanted me to say anything. Ever. Just stand there and screw in your bolt or weld your spot or grind your lead. And for Pete’s sake don’t talk.
My first job was actually grinding lead in a lead booth. We wore space helmets and were tethered to air hoses. And no talking. It’s where I learned sign language. If you ground a knuckle off, you couldn’t scream. You had to pantomime to communicate you were bleeding to death.
It was a labor union. I was in my twenties. I didn’t understand the culture. It was a tight-knit group of World War II veterans who saw me as a threat to their organization. Once someone dropped their sand paper, and I picked it up for him.
I was immediately reported. That’s a Bozo no no. It’s outside your “job description.” You could be robbing a man of earning a living by picking up that piece of sand paper. Next thing you know he’s on the unemployment line and Russia comes to your house and takes your children away. Is that what you want?
No sir. That’s not what I want. I’ll shut up now.
So a half century later I get to shut up again. Not because I broke union laws, but because God chose to let me be quiet for a couple days. I’m sure he’s got a reason. After all, He works all things together for good for those who love Him. So I’ll just shut up now and wait to see what good He has for me.
I sure hope He’s doesn’t want me to build cars again.