By Davalynn Spencer
Several years ago some quirky friends sent us a Christmas card with this misaligned phrase, and I’ve not been the same since. I want to hear Harold.
I’m sure this guy is one of the many voices of the season, and as authors, we’re all familiar with voices, aren’t we?
We ignore them.
We argue with them.
We search through the din for our own.
Familiarity breeds frustration as we wrestle with the voices of characters trying to steal our plots. Gripping our hair or pen or keyboard, we cry, “Who’s running this show, anyway?”
But the voices of our gifted imaginations are not the only carolers clamoring for attention.
Industry voices tell us how and when and where to plan, craft, and promote.
Christian voices tell us how and when and what to pray, believe, and give.
And the world’s commercial voices tell us which products to drive, eat, and roll under our arms.
So the question is, Who do we listen to? (Or, for those of you who notice, To whom will we listen?)
Shouldn’t the answer be God? Yahweh. Jehovah. Jesus. Adonai. The babe in the manger who crushed our enemy. Whatever we call the One who loves us beyond our comprehension, isn’t His the voice we must discern as writers writing stories of forgiveness and hope?
If that means turning off the television and shutting down the Internet for a while so we can hear, let’s do it.
God had a great idea when he whispered to Moses on that get-away trek to the mountains.
One singer of songs recorded, “Be still, and know that I am God.”
And Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice.” Sheep aren’t real smart, but they get it. I’m glad, because everyone else is shouting.
These three biblical examples originated in an age with no electronic noises competing for attention. That says something about our attention tendencies, doesn’t it?
We are porous people. We absorb what we’re around. The realization has led to some unplugging in my life and to discriminating choices about what I read and watch. What I listen to.
As I wrap this writing year in a big bow and tuck it in my file cabinet, I want to listen for Him. If I seek Him, I’ll find Him, just like the shepherds did, and later the magi, and later everyone else who discovered their need and His saving grace.
This Christmas, I want to be quiet enough to hear Harold the angel lift his voice above his starlit fellows to proclaim, “Joy to the World!”
And I plan on singing right along with him, “The Lord is come.”
Davalynn Spencer, who loves Christmas, writes inspirational Western romance with rugged cowboys, their challenges, and their loves. The 2015 Will Rogers Gold Medallion Award winner for Western Inspirational Fiction makes her home on Colorado’s Front Range with her handsome cowboy and their dog, Blue. Connect with her at www.davalynnspencer.com.