He Hears Our Voice

One of the men in our Tuesday Bible study wonders constantly how God can hear our individual prayers when so many of us are praying at the same time. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I remind him that God is GOD and not human and He can hear each of us no matter what the circumstances.



Recently we took our oldest grandson, Ethan, on a trip. When asked what he wanted for his 8th birthday, he recited several things and then paused, “But what I really, really want, Grandma, is to take Amtrak to St. Louis with you and Grandpa and go to that museum again.”

Shortly after his 6th birthday, Bill and I and his parents did this same trip, taking Amtrak from Chicago to St. Louis. We stayed at a hotel within walking distance of the Amtrak station. On our second day there we walked the 15 blocks from the hotel to The City Museum. Ethan had a wonderful day exploring this gigantic playground, made mostly from recycled materials, and meant for children. From Wikipedia, “the museum bills itself as an "eclectic mixture of children's playground, funhouse, surrealistic pavilion, and architectural marvel." Visitors are encouraged to feel, touch, climb on, and play in the various exhibits.” Ethan’s daddy, John, also had a wonderful time crawling around and through and up and down with his son.

And so, during Ethan’s spring break, we picked him up, boarded the Amtrak and rode to St. Louis. Becki and John did not come along because the twins are not yet old enough for this adventure. Ethan’s anticipation was high and was amped even higher when we checked into the same hotel with its pristine swimming pool and hot breakfasts.

The weather was marginal on our first day there so we chose to go to the St. Louis Zoo, also an awesome place, where we could duck in and out of buildings, should it begin to rain.

On our second and final day of our trip, we were ready to go to the museum.

I decided I had better have a little chat with Ethan before we headed out. I explained to him that the last time his daddy had gone with him through most of the areas, crawling after him and ever keeping him in sight, but neither Grandpa nor I were able to do that. Ethan has a hard time understanding that we are just not as young as his parents, but after several questions he accepted that we were not going to go with him through the exhibits.

“We will find a place near each of the places you want to explore, where I will wait for you, I will not move and you will always be able to come back to me.”

He nodded his understanding, but I could tell that he was a bit apprehensive about having to do all his exploring alone.

We headed out to walk the 15 blocks to the museum under threatening skies, but no rain.



About one block from the museum, we began to hear happy kid noises: shouts, calls, laughter, squeals etc. And Ethan began to perk up.

Then we turned the corner and we could see a portion of the outside “Monstro City” and Ethan began to get excited. We watched kids crawling, sliding, climbing everywhere so by the time we got inside the door to buy our tickets, he was eager to get outside and begin his own exploration.

I picked a spot by the giant tree made from nails, bolts, and who knows what other pieces of castoff metal parts that houses one of the first spiral staircases leading up to realms beyond. I would STAY THERE so Ethan could check in regularly.

He looked at the spot carefully and then disappeared inside the tree. Soon I saw him making his way along one of the walkways suspended two stories above me and then he disappeared again. I searched frantically and then I saw him climbing another spiral staircase to yet another walkway even higher up and then he disappeared again.

Soon he was back on the step just beyond me exclaiming, “Grandma, Grandma, this is so neat.” And then he was off again.

Again I looked frantically to see where he had gone, and again I could spot him from time to time and then he would disappear and I did not know where to look.

For the first three times I was apprehensive that he might get lost in the crowd of several hundred children, or he might get mixed up and not be able to find me again, but after the third time I realized he could always find me and so I began to relax. But I stayed in my agreed upon spot.



We were in the midst of the cacophony of children’s voices shouting to one another, laughing, occasionally screaming as they slid down one or other of the unique slides, or in the ball pit where they threw dodge balls at one another.

Suddenly, in the midst of all the other happy children’s voices, I heard, “Grandma, Grandma, look at me.” And there he was, on the suspended walkway, far above me, looking down, happy as a kid can be. I heard him! I looked up and saw him! My heart was filled with joy!

Out of all those other children’s voices, that great jumble of sound, from a distance away, I heard my grandson!

And it hit me! Out of all those others talking to my Father, pleading with my Father, calling to my Father, He hears my voice! He hears all the others, and He hears ME! I can’t wait to share this with our friend Dick. Amen!