Whistling in the Light

O Lord … you send forth your Spirit, and all life is created; and so you renew the face of the earth … I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will praise my God while I have my being. – Psalm 104:31, 34


I like to whistle as I work. Why? Because I enjoy work; I enjoy labor (as long as it’s not too intensive, laborious, or hot outside); and I enjoy being productive.

When one is happy, it is most natural to sing, whistle, or demonstrate the joy one is feeling through the outward manifestations of song and dance. Joy really isn’t joy until the body is involved. If you don’t believe me, just look at your dog’s tail when she’s about to get a treat, or when she hears the family car pull up into the driveway. Her joy is full and uncontainable, and her tail lets you know it.

My lips are my tail, so to speak. When I’m happy, I whistle. Whistling has the added benefit of letting people know I’m around, and let’s them know where they can find me. On more than one occasion my whistling has saved me from getting a door flung open into my oncoming face – and from inflicting grievous bodily harm on others while rounding a dark, blind corner.

I don’t think anyone else in the family whistles – or at least not that I’ve heard, but that’s OK. Not all are called to whistle. Some hum; others bop and nod to the beat of whatever is on their portable music player; and still others work quietly, letting the peace and tranquility of silence serve notice to the world of their joy and inner harmony. After all, when it comes to happiness, there are no rules – there’s “just right.”

I think God is a whistler. Astronomers and astrophysicists tells us that they can hear the music of the universe – the music of creation – through their huge radio telescopes, and even though I don’t understand the technology they use, I think I understand what they are saying. The music of the spheres bears witness to the glory of our Creator God.

I don’t think there is nearly enough whistling these days – real or figurative. It seems to me that many people take life far too seriously. It is almost as if there is a premium or a bounty paid to those who scowl, grouse, or moan. There must be; why else would we see so many grumps driving down the road?

On the other hand, I’m not sure that the problem is seriousness. Life is a serious business, and keeping a roof over one’s head and food on one’s table can certainly be challenging and trying. It’s nothing to be laughed at or scoffed at; but does it require folks to act so dour and sour all the time?

It seems the question isn’t one of seriousness, but of thankfulness or heart-felt gratitude – or the lack of appreciating what we do, indeed, have. I need to ask my more somber brothers and sisters: When faced with a challenge, would you rather find yourself in the company of those who wring their hands and fret, or with those who eagerly roll up their sleeves and dive into the fray with gusto?

Teddy Roosevelt was one of those people who loved to dive into a problem whole-heartedly. He was convinced it was far better to try mighty things and fail, than to try nothing and succeed. Life is a great and wonderful gift, given to us by God, and it would be a terrible waste of that good gift if we could not approach life with humility and grace, and tackle the challenges before us with a certain élan begotten by love, joy, peace, happiness, and thanksgiving.

If I have a choice – and I think we all do – I prefer to live life a happy fool and perhaps dare great things, rather than to live so carefully and soberly that the only evidence of my having passed this way would be a wan, gray trail of veritable slug slime.

I believe God whistled this, our valley into existence, and we do not honor God by slugging our way through life; rather, I believe we honor God best when we whistle, sing, and dance before him. You and I are His opus; how tweet it is!

From my lips to your ears, O Lord: Halleluia!

Note: Photo Credit embedded in Photo Name