He Heard His Father’s Voice . . . and Everything Else Became Unimportant

Nancy and I had the opportunity to take care of our four-month-old grandson, Spencer, over the last week.

By Gary Jones
Pastor of Counseling Ministries  
 
It’s been 32 years since we’ve had the opportunity to have a baby in the house at Christmastime.  The Christmas story evokes deep emotions in people, but hearing the cooing (ok, the squalling too), feeling a baby’s soft skin and seeing the trust in his eyes brings a new depth to meditating on the birth of Christ.

I had been journaling about prayer during my devotional time.  Simultaneous with Spencer’s visit, I decided to reflect on the Lord’s Prayer.  I spent several days just thinking about the phrase, “Our Father.”  I’ve been on a personal quest to develop an ability to listen to God. 
Over this week as I’ve played with Spencer, I’ve watched him change.  I remember when we first saw him in the hospital room following his birth.  There was no hint of connection in his face; his eyes did not comprehend what he was seeing.  He didn’t know who we were.  Now when we talk to him he smiles and reaches for us.  Every day seems to be filled with new wonders; he discovered grandpa’s whiskers yesterday, an event that seemed to spark a special delight for both him and grandpa.  There seems to be a growing emotional connection between Spencer and his grandparents.

At the same time, there are some limitations to that connection.  I’m sure he senses our care but he lacks the ability to communicate verbally or to understand our verbal communication with him.  Isn’t that what I’m experiencing in my relationship with my Heavenly Father?  I sense His love.  I hear the compassion in His voice but I frequently lack the ability to understand what He is communicating to me.  There is a developmental process of spiritual maturity that cannot be bypassed.  However, there are also some stumbling blocks that interfere with the process.

Spencer doesn’t recognize how self-centered he is.  He just expects the whole universe to revolve around him and his wants.  His wants appear to be primarily biologically driven: he’s hungry, he’s sleepy, he’s wet, etc.  When he experiences a need, he wants instant gratification and while he may not understand a lot of what we say to him, we understand clearly when he wants something.  He communicates quite effectively with us!  Screaming is a powerful motivational tool.  However, the responsibility for determining why he is screaming is ours.  As he grows he will learn to explain what he needs (and then scream when we tell him he can’t have it).  The spiritual parallels are obvious.

Perhaps the most powerful lesson of the week came on Saturday evening.  Spencer had been exceedingly happy during the day (a stark contrast to his mood on Thursday – but that day we could distract him).  We were eating supper when his parents called to see how things were going.  Stacy, his mother, had talked to him almost every night on the phone, but his dad had not spoken to him.  So, Paul, his dad, talked to him for a minute on Saturday evening.  The look of ‘recognition’ was on Spencer’s face as his dad talked to him; it seemed to say, “I know that voice!”

There were a couple of times during the week we wondered if he was missing his parents but what happened following the phone call was dramatic.  After hearing his father’s voice, Spencer was inconsolable.  It was a LONG evening.  All of the things that have typically distracted him during the week had absolutely no impact.  He didn’t want to eat, he wasn’t wet, walking with him didn’t calm him, toys wouldn’t distract him, there was a longing in his heart that only his father could satisfy.  He heard his father’s voice and everything else became unimportant.  All of the things that previously brought meaning were now meaningless.  He had heard his father’s voice.  I hope that phrase is sinking in. 

We live in a world where we are constantly distracted: jobs, hobbies, taking care of the house, filling other time slots with meaningless drivel from the television.  We laugh, we eat, we play - we are primarily content.  And then it happens; we hear our Father’s voice.  No, it’s not an audible voice, but we know it.  From the time that we hear His voice, we know there is something missing from our life and all of the things that used to calm us, now leave us, well, inconsolable. 

Like babies, we can be easily distracted from our need for a relationship with our Heavenly Father.  When we have a vague longing, we can easily write it off when the next ‘bottle’ (whatever form it takes) comes.  However, when we hear His voice, suddenly the toys, the bottles, the distracting voices that lure us and have comforted us before now become unimportant.  Now we want only one thing – we want our Father.  On a human level, Ken Canfield calls it Quenching the Father Thirst.  Behavioral scientists call it Attachment.  Spiritually it is called Salvation.

The path to a relationship with our Heavenly Father was opened by a baby.  When we hear the story of His birth, we hear our Father’s voice.  Deep in our heart we know and long for a relationship that only our Heavenly Father can satisfy.

Father, thank you for letting Spencer spend Christmas with us.  Thank you for once again using a baby to remind us of your love.