“Kkccceccckht…Kkccchhckeeccckht!” the static on the other end of the walkie talkie retches out into the dusk. Interrupting the stillness of a crisp autumn sunset, my finger pressed down, and my lowered voice directed itself into the mic.
“Red Bird this is Spy Mama, do you copy?”
“Red Bird, this is Spy Mama, can you hear me? Over.”
The response was obscure, a series of clicks and static that slightly frustrated me, wishing we would have forked over the extra 10 bucks for the more elite pair. An impulse buy of the weekend before, but with a gift card burning a hole in our pockets, my thought initially was with only one son with three sisters, how fun it would be to play around with something other than princess dresses, sparkly stickers, or tea party.
I had gone for my walk around the lake, my weekend routine. Leaving the kids and husband behind, I walk as quickly as I can those 4 miles, allowing myself the excersize, and that small amount of time to myself. This day, however, my children decide to test the selling point on the packaging of their new toy. “18 miles, mom…it’s supposed to work up to 18 miles away!” There’s NO way, my husband replied, for only $29.99, that the toy could work that far. False advertising, the cynic said. So to test the company’s marketing, and with a friendly competitive spirit, my children asked me to carry an ebony twin talkie with me on my walkie. Ok, I said. I’ll turn it on when I’m on the other side of the lake, about 2 or 3 miles away.
I now push the button and try again. “This is Mickey Alpha Mouse Alpha, do you read me?” Smiling, I realize how totally cool my 5 year old son thinks I am when I try to speak secret agent special ops. While walking, I try several more times to get a decipherable response. I watch the setting sun turn flecks of lake water into sparkly diamonds, and winter pairs of mallard ducks gliding effortlessly through them.
I can’t get a response at any point, even only this far from our house. As I stop for a drink at the water fountain, God speaks. Yes, God can speak at a public drinking fountain.
He asks me, of course rhetorically, if this how we think He is. Is God too far away to hear you? Do you feel like Heaven might be out-of-range for the Father to hear what you need? Your heart felt, even desperate plea floats upward for a while, only to be replaced by irritating static when it hits, say…Pluto?
I believe God always hears me. The answer may be, “Sorry baby”, but He hears me. Sometimes the answer to a prayer is simply, “Wait”, because the answer to my prayer will come in His good timing. Every once in a while He has a command for me to obey. Often He tells me not to look backwards at the past, but live in forgiveness. He tells me each day is a gift, starting off every dawn a new day with no mistakes in it yet. Sometimes a prayer needs to be prayed many times. Not because our Father doesn’t hear, but because He’s working something out in us; patience, faithfulness, or a passionate unfailing love. There’s nothing too small to bring to His attention. He knows every need anyway, but yeah, He still hears you. Like a good father listening to a precious child, God listens to those who are seeking Him.
If you have a need, even if you have never put your faith in Jesus before, speak to Him. Ask Him to show Himself real to you. Pick up a Bible and read the gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John are books in the New Testament that will allow you to see who Jesus was, and how much He cared for those who sought after Him. He will speak out how true love caused the greatest king, to cripple Himself. Indescribable cost, for the greatest risk. Your heart.
Pondering this, about a mile from the house I tried again. “Red Bird, this is Spy Mama, come in.” This time my husbands deep, but playful voice became clearly audible. “Hey Big Mama, I hear you.” A smirk emerged onto my face. “Who’s this? Big Daddy? Over.”
My oldest daughter came through loud and clear, “yeah, mom, that was Daddy! He was listening to you!”
Of course he was. Good daddy’s always do.