There was a man by the name of John Blackman who attended my church where I grew up. He had a beautiful voice and occasionally, he would sing a solo. Professionally, John was a milkman. Some of you may remember the days when a driver of a milk truck delivered glass-bottled milk to your doorstep and picked up the empties for recycling.
One day, there was a large picture of him in the newspaper and a story about John. John was not just a milkman but he was also a “song” man. Everyday as he went about his route delivering milk, he sang hymns loudly and proudly. Many of his customers were interviewed and spoke about how deeply he touched them with his heart-felt renditions of Amazing Grace, In the Garden, and Sweet Hour of Prayer. Indeed, it must have been a blessing to hear John’s baritone voice sweetly singing just outside the doorstep two or three times a week as he went about his chores.
John’s real job was not delivering milk. It was delivering hope, comfort and inspiration for those who had ears to hear. He put not only his voice into his day; he put his heart into his voice, and he did so without reservation. I doubt if delivering milk was in itself that stimulating or rewarding, but singing hymns all day long obviously was…first for himself and then, for countless others.
I’ve often said the reason we are doing whatever we are doing is probably far different, in reality, than we think it is. We have no idea who’s listening, watching, and learning from our actions. So, no matter what we do, the important thing is to put love into it so that we, and others, receive love from it.1