The Whistling Preacher

The Whistling Preacher

Take control of what I say, O LORD,and guard my lips.

Psalm 141:3

When I was in high school, my family lived in a small town in central Texas. The sign at the city limits said, “Welcome to Grandview—home of 964 nice people and one old grouch.” (We all knew who the old grouch was, too.)

My dad was the preacher for one of the local churches, and we lived in the preacher’s house next door to the church building. Dad also worked part time for the local funeral home. He liked to say he was a full-service preacher—he blessed you at birth, spoke at your graduation, performed your wedding, blessed your children when they were born, preached for you every Sunday, and delivered the eulogy at your funeral.

Dad was an upbeat, cheerful guy who whistled happily most of the time. Mom said if Dad was not whistling, you knew something was wrong.

One day Dad went to the only grocery store in town to get a few things for Mom. He wandered through the aisles, shopping and whistling quietly. Then he took his purchases to the checkout register at the front of the store. Whistling away as he waited for the clerk to total his bill, the boy bagging Dad’s groceries started laughing.

“What’s so funny, Tommy?” Dad asked, smiling.

“Well, sir, I just thought it was funny to hear a preacher whistling a beer commercial.”

Dad stopped whistling. He thought about it for a second and realized he had, indeed, been whistling the Hamm’s beer theme song: “From the land of sky blue waters . . .”

Oops!

Father, help me to be careful about what I say and do (and even whistle), knowing that others are always listening to me and watching what I do. I want my life to be a beautiful reflection of your glory, and I need your help to do it. Guard my lips, O Lord. Amen.