He Knows My Cry
One night I was at church. I was sitting up front as I almost always. In fact I was on the very front bench so I couldn’t see most of the people there.
While sitting there listening to the introductory remarks welcoming everyone to the service I heard a baby cry. Elijah was only a few months old at the time and as all babies at that age he cried when he wanted something. When he wanted anything really.
As a father I hate to hear my son cry so my first instinct was to turn around and see what was wrong with him. As a pastor I hate seeing people turn their attention from what is going on in the service. So I resisted the urge to turn and listened instead.
While listening I realized that there was indeed a baby crying but it was not my baby. You see there was another baby there that night. She was quite a bit younger than Elijah and her name was Hannah. She was the one crying. So I returned my full attention to the service knowing that it was not my child that needed something. It was someone else’s child. Therefore it was not my responsibility to listen or to make it right.
This is not to say I was not concerned. I was. But it was her father’s job to fix it not mine.
Later while I was thinking about Elijah and Hannah and fathers and such I realized something about God. He is a father and as a father he hears his children cry. Not only does he hear his children cry though. He hears all children cry but like me he is listening especially for his children. This brought me great comfort to know that wherever I am, whatever I am doing or what it seems God is doing, when I cry out he stops to listen. No matter how many other children may be crying, he knows my cry and he cares.