When Harold Hill ordered the instruments for the River City Boys Band they arrived weeks later on a Wells Fargo Wagon. No one expected them to come sooner. 

But these days people demand faster service. I don't generally spring for express shipping but since John signed up for Amazon Prime we get our books and fabric lickety split. I hardly have time to anticipate them before they appear at my doorstep. And with the newest feature, Yesterday Delivery sometimes they come before I realize I wanted them. It saves me oodles of time, if not money. 

Last night I was pretty discouraged about Benjamin's yelling. John and I took turns in the night keeping tabs of quiet minutes vs. loud ones, showing him the results of his volume. It reminded me of labor, and those hours John recorded contractions, only there was no jubilant outcome. It seemed to make a difference, in that Ben gradually calmed down. But the process was not sustainable over time. In all I got less sleep than when I had three month old twins. 

Laying next to him I prayed. I told God I wanted to take good care of my children, and that I needed help. I was at the end of my rope and it was unravelling. 

When the alarm yanked us out of the two hours of solid sleep squeezed between 4 and 6 it was hard to get vertical. We did not talk much as he ate breakfast, although he did use the words "extremely sorry." 

When the twins got up they kept an eye out the door in case that fox should get brazen again. Hope did not see her but she did see something else. 

"Mom! There was a pair of cardinals in a tree!" We have always held cardinals to be a sign of my parents watching over us. 

After the girls left a friend texted to see if I was home. She came over with my favorite smoothie in her hand. We hugged and talked for most of an hour. In that time she invited me to a meditation group, and offered her compassion about Ben. I felt heard. And loved. 

When Ben came home he put on music as he often does. Only this time he chose a hymn I've never known him to pick before. It included a phrase that sent a lump to my throat. 

"I have heard you calling in the night. "

Then the next day we sang that same hymn in a memorial service. 

I thought about my prayers, which if they travel at the speed of sound could not have yet broken the stratosphere on their way to God. But here were a string of responses... cardinals, a smoothie, an invitation, empathy, a song. 

Even Amazon can't beat that.