My mother was a hummer.
No matter what she was doing, she hummed — and it was almost always hymns filled with joy and truth.
If she was hanging clothes on the line, she hummed.
If she was cooking, she hummed.
If she was sewing, she hummed.
If she was cleaning fish after my daddy had an especially good day at the fishing hole, she hummed.
I remember one of my college friends who spent quite a bit of time at our house. Mother’s constant humming nearly drove her crazy. One day she finally said to me, “Can’t you shut her up?”
But I didn’t want to shut her up. I loved it.
The interesting thing is, this all began after she came to know Jesus as her Savior.
I knew my mother before Christ changed her, and I knew her afterward.
Before, she was unsure of herself. She had been forced to quit school in the ninth grade because of a long illness, and I think that deeply affected her confidence. She was sweet, kind-hearted, and loving, but fearful too — lacking that deep-down joy and peace.
She accepted Christ when I was five years old, and even at that young age, I noticed the difference immediately.
From that day forward until I left home to marry, I never saw her lose her temper. I never knew her to be afraid — not even of the devil himself. There was a steadiness about her, a quiet joy that stayed with her no matter what life brought.
And she hummed.
I started thinking about all of this the other day because I realized something about myself.
I am a hummer too. Sometimes a singer. But somewhere over the last few years, the humming had gone silent.
Life has a way of doing that if we let it.
At my age, challenges seem to come daily, and they certainly do not lessen as the years go by. But when I realized the song in my heart had grown quiet, I didn’t like it.
I have a dear friend of over fifty years who has walked beside me through some hard seasons. Every time another burden would arise, she would gently remind me:
“Don’t forget to sing.”
Lately, my humming has returned.
I catch myself singing the same lines over and over again — almost as though I am singing them until my heart fully believes them.
“I’ve never seen the righteous forsaken or His seed begging bread.”
The other day, I must have sung that phrase a hundred times.
Then there are the old hymns:
“Tell me the old, old story.
Write on my heart every word.
Tell me the story most precious,
Sweetest that ever was heard.”
But the song that has settled deepest into my spirit lately is Praise the Lord.
Especially these words:
“Praise the Lord,
He can work through those who praise Him.
Praise the Lord,
For our God inhabits praise.”
How true that is.
The enemy wants us defeated. He wants us fearful, discouraged, and silent. He wants us to forget who we belong to.
But we are children of the King.
And sometimes the greatest act of faith is simply to praise God while standing in the middle of the battle.
Jesus Himself told us:
“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart — I have overcome the world.”
So today, if life has knocked the breath out of you… if you feel overwhelmed, frightened, weary, or unsure how you will make it through what you are facing, may I encourage you to do what my mother did?
Sing.
Hum.
Praise the Lord anyway.
Because praise does something powerful inside the heart of a believer. It lifts our eyes above our fears and reminds us that God is still faithful, still present, and still worthy.
And somehow, when we praise Him, the chains lose their power.
I hope you sing today.
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