In my office, answering mail, adding to the list for the day, I hear
my neighbor and his father under my second story window.
“Do you have everything you need for the tests, Dad?”
I couldn’t hear his answer.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?”
I couldn’t hear an answer.
“Well, good luck with everything.”
I’m pretty sure silence was the response here.
“Dad, would you like to pray before you go?”
This answer was clear and loud. “Yes.”
Unseen, but heard, my ears caught,
“Dear Heavenly Father…”
I surprised myself my dropping my pen and bowing my head.
“Dear Heavenly Father -” I began, in cadence. I couldn’t discern the words but I matched the rhythm.
“I really don’t know these two men well. But a son is sending his father off
into a world of unknown tests. I would hope that they both know a sense of peace
and purpose about whatever is facing their family at this time. “
I kept my head bowed and my mind still until I heard the speaking beneath my window stop. I heard the shuffle of heavy feet, the click and reluctance of an old car door and an engine turning over. I wondered (to God, in the way that musing of this sort seems heavenly directed) how often I am this close to a prayer being uttered and I cannot hear it, or see it, or do not notice it.
Then I imagined a falling leaf and couldn’t be certain that it was God answering back, ?“That’s prayer.”
I recalled the gentle perseverance and beauty of the incoming tide at dusk.
I pictured the surprise stalk of the volunteer sunflower back of our bird feeder.
I smiled. Knowing I’d heard God’s answer.
- © mary anne radmacher