Lately, more so than ever, Rhema’s humming will turn into a song we recognize. Mary Had a Little Lamb, London Bridge, Yankee Doodle, How Great is our God, even Dynamite by Taio Cruz.
It’s so exhilarating for us when she hums a familiar song! There are a thousand reasons why. It’s confirmation that she’s always listening, always learning. It’s because for so long her sounds were not discernible to us; they were background noise and a constant reminder of her inability to communicate with spoken word and my inability to understand her.
Years ago my thinking about the humming – or what others might call vocal stimming – shifted, thanks in part to this video about Amanda Baggs. I began to feel blessed that Rhema’s lovely chorus filled our home, our lives.
These days I listen closely. When she begins to hum something that sounds familiar, I stop what I’m doing. I get quiet. I want to hear. Oh, I’m so desperate to hear. Anything. Anything she wants to share, anything that’s in her head. Even if it’s just Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Because it’s my baby enjoying her song out loud. Because I can finally sing along. It’s growth, it’s progress, it’s miraculous.
I was wondering what my little “goal” should be this year, and it keeps coming to me that I need to get still. Sit with a quiet heart. And know that God is God. I mean, really practice that in this loud, anxious world. Maybe they are only brief, quiet moments I reach for Words that will breathe new life and find His voice – in the early morning, over the sink full of dishes, in the waiting room, on the train, as they play. The way I yearn to hear Rhema in the silence is the way I want to wait to hear only God, singing over me.
“But that “still small voice”… was God’s answer to all my questions, was God’s life and strength for soul and body, and became the substance of all knowledge, and all prayer and all blessing: for it was the living GOD Himself as my life, my all.” ~A.B. Simpson, Streams in the Desert