Certain sounds can transport us to a different place or a different time … and I’m not talking about the suddenly familiar hum of generators or the roar of chainsaws in our neighborhoods.
Play the opening notes of The Andy Griffith Show, and suddenly we’re walking down a dusty road in any small town. Andy and Opie are headed toward the fishing hole. Aunt Bee is fussing over something in the kitchen. Barney is taking himself far too seriously. And, suddenly, we’re going fishing with them, eating a piece of homemade apple pie, or sitting on the front porch with friends.
And for a few minutes, we’re not here … we’re there. Remembering how things were different back then … for adults and for children.
We didn’t have air conditioning. We didn’t have cell phones. We didn’t carry the internet around in our pockets. If we wanted to know what somebody was doing, we had to go find them. Telephones were attached to the wall by cords.
And somehow, we survived.
We played outside until somebody called us home. We rode bicycles with wild abandon. We sat on porches. We knew our neighbors. We found ways to entertain ourselves.
And maybe that’s something worth remembering. Especially now.
The psalmist says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Sometimes stillness might be a gift.
That’s not always easy. But perhaps Mayberry can remind us that stillness isn’t the same as emptiness. A quiet afternoon, a walk down the street, a conversation on the porch, a few minutes without a phone in our hand—these can become holy moments if we let them.
And we don’t need to go all the way back to Mayberry to experience such holy moments.
So today, maybe for just a few minutes, whistle a little of that familiar Andy Griffith tune. Remember bicycles and fishing holes. Remember television antennas and telephones attached to walls. Remember a time when we didn’t have all the things we now think we can’t live without.
And then give yourself permission to be still for a few minutes … and in the stillness, reach out for God. No power or internet required.
Prayer: Lord, thank you for the gift of memories—for the people, places, sounds, and simple moments that remind me of who I am. Quiet the noise around me and the noise within me. Help me to notice the ordinary gifts that I so easily overlook: a conversation, a breeze, a familiar song, laughter, a quiet moment. And in the midst of whatever this day brings, help me recognize that you are here. In the name of Jesus, Amen.
