Whisper
Our house has been inundated with sickness. First the flu, then pneumonia. The days have felt long, the nights have felt longer. My birthday landed in the middle of it all. It was the day everyone was most sick. I didn’t really care about my birthday, I just wanted to get through it, hoping the next day might be healthier.
Charlie got very sick, very suddenly. It wasn’t even 5 o’clock and he was asking to go to sleep. He cried as we brushed his teeth, he couldn’t swallow Tylenol, the decision of what pajamas he wanted to wear made him cry even more. He was physically burning up and emotionally melting down. His favorite part of our bedtime routine is reading books. I asked him what books he wanted to read and he just stared. I told him it was okay if he didn’t want to read. He said he didn’t want to. I covered him up in bed and turned out the lights. Then he asked, can we sing? His tired eyes were heavy. He was holding his blanket close, two fingers in his mouth, his other hand grabbing mine.
I started to sing,
God is so good.
God is so good.
God is so…
His little voice barely whispered, “good.”
He’s so good to…
“me”, he sighed.
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, all fear is
He exhaled, “gone.”
As I knelt at his bed, I was overcome with compassion and love for him. And my heart was stirred and my eyes filled with tears. If I feel this for him, what must my Heavenly Father feel towards me when all I have is a whisper?
We all have days, months, years when all we have is a whisper. In a small way, these past few weeks have been for me. So often it doesn’t feel like enough. But even our faintest whisper gets His attention. And His gaze is one full of compassion. He is gentle and kind. And don’t worry. Even when our whisper is silenced, the Holy Spirit intercedes for us.
This is the heart of the Father towards His children. So, whisper. Whisper your sadness. Whisper your grief. Whisper your questions. Whisper your fears. Whisper truth. He hears you. He loves you. Let Him love you in your weakness.