In church this week we sang a hymn that I have history with. I recall singing it fifteen years ago when the twins were babies and there was a stretch of no sleep. The line that made me come unglued describes God's response to that sense of overwhelm.
"I have heard you calling in the
night."
In that moment I knew He did. Hear me. And for an instant I believed everything would be alright. I just couldn't see it yet.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of singing it with a daughter on either side of me. Their voices were lovely. I realized they were carrying the alto, even though there was no such line in the book. I whispered to Hope.
"How can you sing the part?"
"I know it
by heart."
My mind wafted back to that exhausted mother of twins, who could not see her way out of a mountain of diapers. Yet here I was. Being serenaded by those same girls/young women. And I knew, with less fleeting conviction, that God absolutely heard me calling in the night.
