Whistling While We Pray

I simply hate hand-wringing and, as they used to say where I came from, "mully-grubbing along." (A colloquialism meaning to shuffle along while pitifully sniffling over one's woes  - never considered good form.)

The Disney movie Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs had a little song in it called "Whistle While You Work" and the dwarfs would sing it as they swung their little pick axes over their shoulders on their way to the mines.           

Now let's just think about that.  Their work apparently involved going down into deep, dark places and doing tough physical labor for long hours, and yet there they were - whistling along the trail.  You have to admire their spunk.

There is, however, someone whose "spunk" I admire even more - my son K.  Last week we received a tough diagnosis after his MRI, followed by a potentially gloomy prognosis.  It was, to put it mildly, a real downer.  He has lived in and dealt with some deep, dark places himself.

But by the next afternoon, as I was doing a little housework around his spiffy little house, where he generally lives alone, but where I have been staying during his post-surgery recuperation as he is bed fast, I hear whistling coming from down the hall.

I assumed he had his TV on, and it was so cheerful sounding, I went down the hall to see what program he was watching.  But it wasn't the TV, it was him, laying there working on his laptop and whistling just as cheerful as a little bluebird.

I was humbled.  He had just been told he would be in bed for more like six months, instead of the original three month estimate, and he had been told he has a bone infection (which is very scary stuff) and yet he is still summoning up the chutzpah from somewhere to whistle while he worked.

He cannot leave his bed (except once a week on a gurney when we go to the wound clinic - nurses come here to the house the other six days a week); he cannot go to work, he cannot even turn over without a great deal of effort; he is tethered to a wound vac 24/7; and yet - he can whistle.

What was he whistling?  "All You Need Is Love".    :) :)

So I'll pray while he whistles - and God will have to handle the rest. There is an old Keith Green song that says, "Just keep doing your best, and pray that it's blessed, and He will take care of the rest."  Isn't that always the way of it?

Hope you are whistling a happy tune today.  Until next time ...Marsha