We sat together on the screen porch. Just the two of us. The breeze kissed our cheeks as it greeted the wind chimes. His feet rested on the rung of the rocking chair as he moved back and forth. I watched the lemonade as drops of moisture slid down the glass like tears. Birds made music as they flitted by the screen, occasionally stopping on the post to offer a curious look in our direction. Butterflies resting on rose bushes that seemed to spray perfume with each gentle wind blow. Sounds of summer. Smells of summer. Sights of summer.
He’s 10. I have 8 more summers with him, Lord willing. My heart stole a snapshot to tuck away for later. In the peace and quiet of the moment, I could see God. Then the peace was disturbed. 2 industrial-sized riding lawn mowers began cutting the grass at the park next to our house. Drowning the sounds of summer, covering the scents of summer, and clouding the sights of summer.
Raising my head from the pillows of the wicker sofa, I sat up straighter. I closed the book I’d been reading and moved the lemonade aside. So much for a relaxing afternoon on the porch. His posture never changed, the rocking never stopped. He seemed unfazed by the noise and distraction.
“Mom, do you hear that?”
“Mom, do you hear that?”
“I can barely hear you. All I hear is a loud mower.”
“Listen. Stop and listen.”
Stop? I had not moved, except to reposition in aggravation. Listen? To a mower?
“Mom, what is that? It sounds like someone is whistling. I think the lawn mower man is whistling.”
No way you could hear a whistle over that noise. But history has proven that if anyone can hear or see something the rest of us miss, it’s Jacob. So I listened. But I heard nothing. Except noise. I heard no gentle whistle. All sounds of summer sliced by the blades of the mower.
“I’m sure it’s not a whistle. All the noise would block it out.”
“No, I see his lips. When I heard the faint sound of a whistle, I started looking to see where it was coming from. When his mower faced me, I could see the curve of his lips. He is whistling.”
I did the same. When the mower turned in my direction, I looked at his lips. Sure enough, they were in whistling position. Then I could hear it. Before I saw his lips, I couldn’t hear the whistle through the noise. When I began looking for the sound, I could hear it. Clearly.
And that is how I hear and see God. The noise and distraction of the world attempts to drown Him out. His voice through the noise is soft and gentle. Patient and slow. Kind and loving. It’s hard to hear when the volume of life turns up. The key lies in looking to Him even when you can’t hear Him over the noise. Watching His lips as they whisper softly to you. When you see the curve of the lips, you can hear the gentle whispers.
Jeremiah 29:13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
Where are you hearing and seeing God through the noise of life?