The past couple posts have been about listening on a spiritual level, what I’ve entitled A Magnificent Obsession: Listening for God’s Voice.
- I must believe God loves me—really truly loves me.
- I must believe in the pit of my soul that God is trustworthy.
A recent incident between our youngest grandchild and my husband illustrates.
The other day we needed to make a quick stop at our daughter’s home. Immediately, our 2-year-old grandson wanted Grandpa Ron to read him a book. Before Reeve selected the ‘just-right’ book from his rather extensive toddler library, Ron left to chat with our son-in-law, who was working in the garage.
When Reeve realized his grandpa was no longer in the room, he pointed the chosen book toward the garage, crying pitifully, Paaa-pa, Paaa-pa.
“Here, Honey, Grandma will read the book to you,” I offered. But, Reeve was insistent.
I opened the door leading to the garage and told Ron I thought he needed to come back and read to his grandson before we left for our next stop. My husband re-entered the house, gathered the little red-haired toddler onto his lap, and for several minutes the two bonded while reading all about cars, trucks, boats and airplanes.
This sweet moment wasn’t monumental, but I believe it may have been an incident in which trust was built between a loving grandfather and his miniature grandson.
I thought about little Reeve and Ron this morning when I was getting ready for my day and couldn’t find one of my favorite earrings. The small pearl studs, a gift from Ron a few years ago, are my go-to favorites whenever I pull my hair into a ponytail—like when I go to the gym—or need to run a quick errand on my day off.
I’m quite fond of those earrings and felt upset because I couldn’t locate one of them even after moving almost everything off the bathroom counter; shaking the throw rug in front of the counter; and checking my jewelry box.
Still, no earring!
That’s when I stopped and prayed—this grandmother’s version of crying pitifully, Paaa-pa.
God, I know one little pearl earring isn’t very important. But, I really like those earrings. Would you please help me find the one that’s missing?
After my prayer, I returned to the bathroom, moved slightly the handle of a brush—apparently, one of the items I hadn’t moved earlier—and there it was—my little pearl stud earring!
Considering the natural disasters, worldwide hunger, poverty, violence, destruction and heartache going on in this world, my grown-up logical mind could easily reason God wouldn’t possibly care about my one puny, unimportant earring.
I’ve learned through many years of asking and seeking, though, that God does care. God doesn’t care because there’s anything unique or special about me. God cares because that’s who God is. Caring is woven into God’s very character.
I know my understanding of God’s ways is about as great as Reeve understanding why it was important for his grandfather to cease an interesting adult conversation to read him a toddler’s board book.
Here’s something of which I am quite certain. Every time a child like our grandson is shown he or she matters to a significant adult, the child’s trust in that adult grows.
And, every time I come as a little child to God with a small request and receive an answer, my trust in a God who’s good, who cares and who listens grows.
Once again, I invite you to pass along your stories of how you’ve learned to listen for God’s voice in your journey of faith.
Blessings on our journey of listening…
Reeve and big sister Emmi having fun at the park with Grandpa Ron. I love that Reeve’s one little uncovered ear illustrates his Grandma’s ‘listening-themed’ post!