Too Much Hullabaloo

Sunday mornings at our house have moments of chaos; I am sure some of you can completely identify and yesterday was no exception from the norm. I walked into the kitchen where Todd to remind him of something, and entered the room just as he called out for Brenna. We must keep this blessed child on task if we ever want to leave the house, and it was time for “the drill”–

• Have you brushed your teeth?
• Where are your shoes?
• Do you have your Bible?
• Why do you still have on your pajamas?

You know the questions, pretty much the same ones every Sunday, just sometimes phrased a little different. I am sure, especially if you are a parent, you will be shocked to discover this, but  - she didn’t hear him call her! He called her a second time, and as he did, I noticed quite a bit of just plain old racket coming from the girls' rooms and I knew that she again, did not hear him. I looked at Todd and said, “She can’t hear you.”

As he stood shaking his head, I stepped out of the kitchen so that my voice would project down the hallway, hopeful that my words would boomerang off of her pink walls and somehow land in her sweet little ears, “Brenna, your father is calling youuuuuu!”

Then a miracle occurred – she heard me, and actually came to the kitchen where we were.

The funny thing is, not only did she hear me, but I also heard me. Those words resonated in my mind after I said them, “Your Father is calling youuuuu,” and I felt that gentle nudge that I have learned to be from the Holy Spirit.

She couldn’t hear because of the noise around her and because of the walls separating her daddy’s voice from her ears. She had no idea that he was even speaking, and when she emerged from the hallway into the kitchen, she, of course, just had to be sure I knew that she “didn’t hear him” the other times he called. I was quick to tell her in all of my motherly wisdom that I was sure she didn’t, considering the large amount of hullabaloo I could hear from that direction of the house.

God had three little lessons neatly packaged in this everyday situation as a reminder of things I had already been taught, but apparently can’t quite get:

1. Sometimes I can’t hear Him because of the noise in my environment and because of the walls and distance I have allowed to be placed between us.
2. Because of that noise drowning out His voice, I incorrectly assume He’s not speaking at all.
3. When the noise, the distance, and the walls are hindering my perception of His call, sometimes He will use someone else to get my attention. Someone else will step outside the kitchen so that their voice projects down the hallway, boomerangs of the walls and lands in my sweet little ears.

“Amy, can’t you hear? Your Father is calling youuuu!”

I am always shocked at my state of oblivion when the "boomerang" occurs, and once I reflect, I understand exactly why I did not hear His call. I have to re-align my heart with His, tear down the walls of separation, and press the mute on the noise. It’s always frustrates me to find my self in such a place – AGAIN, but, oddly, it also has a sweetness to it. You see, once He gets my attention, He always welcomes me with open arms and loves me as if I never left.

What is your Father calling you to today?

Can you hear His voice?

If you can’t, it’s not because He isn’t speaking.

Press the mute, tear down the walls, run straight to His feet.

Sit.

And receive what He has for you right now.

Don’t delay.




Royal Princess Daughter Of The King