Talk Radio and Tranquility Or The Lack Thereof

The phone rang and I could hardly hear the caller. "Wow! You've got a lot of noise going on." she said.
I had the phone pressed to my ear while the door to the garage was open so that I could I toss a pop can into the recycling. Bernie was in the garage, welding, while the radio blasted out three stations simultaneously. The din was incredible.

"What?" I shouted into the receiver. "I can't hear you. Hang on just a sec."
I retired to the living room where it was suddenly blissfully peaceful. The cat was asleep on my chair so I opted to sit on the sofa and continue the phone visit with my friend.

NOISE! I heartily dislike noise. I like a quiet environment. I like the calming tone of my own voice as I talk to myself. Nothing soothes me more than the soft cooing of a Mourning Dove or hearing the whirrrr of its wings when it takes off, startled by my peering eyes. I appreciate the velvet-like atmosphere of solitude.

"Well, it sounds like you've got alot going on at your house." she went on. When my husband is around there is always a lot going on because he thrives on the cacophony of Talk Radio. He derides and verbally jousts right along with the guest callers. He puts words into the mouths of the Moderators. He shouts threats or go-getums with full-throated glee. To my misfortune, many of the stations that he likes are AM stations- which means, by my definition, "Amalgamated Mayhem" because they never come through the airwaves in single file. They come through in one huge hydra with each station gyrating for attention.

The first thing that he does in the morning is turn on the radio to one of his conglomerated stations. When he leaves for work, the first thing I do is turn off the radio. If he comes home for lunch, he walks in the door, turns on the radio and smiles a greeting. He leaves for work and I turn off the radio. He comes home from work and grabs the remote to turn on the radio, then he kisses me hello. It's a never ending battle with me against the airwaves. It would have been wise for the Minister on our wedding day to have added to the promises: For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness or in health, in quietness or in chaos.... The last statement may have given pause for some serious decision-making.

When the children were at home, I expected noise, and I didn't mind the noise. It was the noise of children clomping, stomping, banging doors and screaming at each other. It was the noise of us, in turn, threatening the children. It was healthy noise. It was noise that we could do something about.

There is nothing that can be done about Talk Radio. You can't change their topics. You can't tell the caller that what he's saying is idiotic. You can't convince the Moderator that he doesn't have all the world's solutions within his singular brain. It is the noise of imprisonment to me.

Would I have run out of the church on that beautiful wedding day if the Minister had asked me if I would make a commitment to this man that included daily doses of Talk Radio? I was so starry eyed, that I would not have hesitated one moment but would still have heartily said, "I Do!" It just takes a great deal of patience to bear up under the commitment sometimes.

I Corinthians 13 has the perfect description of genuine love. In my times of quietness and tranquility I spend a lot of time praying through this passage and I can only trust that the Lord will work in me the acceptance and trust that goes along with the faith that He is working His virtuous love in me. When it gets to be too much, I can always retire to the living room, take my place on the sofa and listen to the cooing of the Mourning Dove.

Graphic inspired by tut from Auds Dezinz Here and Here