Something banged outside. What? It sounded like a heavy truck with loose metal objects rattling and bumping up the hill. Again, a loud crash. Thunder! It had been so long since I’d heard it, I failed, at first, to recognize it. And rain! Thank the Lord. It may not last long, but every drop is appreciated. When I opened the door, the petrichor I mentioned yesterday smelled wonderful.
What are some other sounds I fail to recognize? Water poured into a pot, the cutlery drawer opening and closing, a lid clicking into place is actually more than a loved one in the kitchen making morning coffee. These are sounds of familiarity and togetherness. They make me feel warm and comforted.
The voice of my grandchild asking to go for a walk or play a board game or watch him jump in the leaves is more than his words or tone. It is the voice of one of God’s chief blessings asking for my attention and I am privileged to be included.
When my son was a teenager and out with friends at night, the most blessed sound I’d ever heard was the front door opening and his voice calling, “I’m home, Mom.” That meant peace and rest. He was home. All was well. I could go to sleep.
When I was a child and awoke on cold, winter mornings, the first sound I heard (besides the rooster crowing in the barnyard) was my dad opening the lid of the wood stove and chunking in a piece of firewood. Dad was awake, the house would soon be warm, and Mom would be in the kitchen to start breakfast. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, those sounds meant security.
Prayer for the day: Lord, help me to recognize the sounds I hear, listening for the message within. Help me listen with my heart, not just my ears. Let me see beyond the obvious and hear more than what’s audible. When there is a need, help me to hear it, even when it isn’t voiced and respond with your love. In Jesus’ Name.
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