Several years ago, I read a Facebook message that went like this: 鈥淎bby was very excited about her new Christmas piano music. She told me all about it on the way home... 鈥楳om, I got the music for Come and Yell on a Mountain!鈥�
鈥淯mm,鈥� her mother replied, 鈥淒o you mean Go Tell it on the Mountain?鈥�
Abby says, 鈥淥h, yah, I think you're right.鈥�
When I think about it, I like Abby鈥檚 version better because, in the midst of all the pain of our individual and global worlds, we have a lot of things to celebrate. Depending on individual personalities, quiet 鈥測ells鈥� or exuberant shouts of thanks are justified when we think of the freedoms we still possess: Not only are girls free to get an education, they鈥檙e encouraged to pursue levels of skills and leadership unheard of just a few decades ago; faith groups of every sector are still able to meet freely; and not only that, McDonalds, Starbucks and Timmies operate on as many corners as consumer demand and local zoning regulation permits. Told you there were lots of different things to yell about.
Sadly, however, not all yell-worthy things are good: For too many, the yelp of pain when you stub your toe or slice the wrong piece of meat while making supper pales in the face of a life-threatening diagnosis. Both local and global violence make me want to scream out 鈥渟top it!鈥� while voices raised in anger and abuse mark the lives of far too many.
The Psalmist David made a lot of noise when it came to God: 鈥淚 cried aloud to Him; He was extolled and high praise was under my tongue.鈥� (Psalm 66:17). Nothing quiet there.
My heartfelt call-out to you: May 2019 be filled with reasons to give heartfelt thanks, even in the midst of pain.
