Can You Hear Me Now

When my oldest daughter was about 9 she had to learn the multiplication table.  We drilled through the easy ones and practiced gimmicks to remember the rest.    As the days went on I  prompted her with vocal cues less and less until finally, when she would miss one I wouldn't say anything;  I would just put the flash card back on the pile to do over.  One evening, as the pile got bigger than she thought it should be, she tearfully hung her head and cried, "I don't know how to do this! Why don't you just tell me what the answer is?"  It broke my heart to see her feeling so upset and defeated.  I told her to take a break and excused her from the table to get a snack   I reminded her to come back soon though because we still had work to do.  She sniffled, wiped her nose on her sleeve, and slumped away.

As far as she was concerned  if she never answered another multiplication problem she would be just fine, but I knew that everything she would learn in math from that point on would require quick recall of those facts.   As crushed as she felt having made a few missteps,  I was confident that she knew certain tables outright and had enough understanding to figure out the rest.    She needed to slow down, trust  the hard work we had put into her mental toolbox and begin to use what was there.  In the end she learned the tables--aIl 12-- and couldn't wait to see her A- displayed on the refrigerator.

As I looked at her little face beaming with pride I was reminded of a time not too long before when  our family had moved to a new city.    My husband traveled  a lot, I was frequently alone with the kids and was pregnant with another (I know, I know).   Everything seemed to be piling on.  I  prayed but remained frustrated.   At one point I thought I had reached the end of my rope.  I yelled up to Heaven, "I can't do this anymore!  Why don't you just tell me what you want me to do?  Why would you move me out here away from my family, away from  my support, to be on my own?"

The answer I heard in my spirit was soft but real, " So you would know that you could."  I believe it was the voice of God.
Here's the thing:   Long before my daughter burst into tears with those pitiful words I knew how she was feeling, what her limitations were,  and what she wanted.  I wasn't shaken when she finally got upset.   I knew eventually she would use the information stashed away and, no matter what,  I was going to be there if she encountered something she couldn't handle on her own.  It is the same for us. We cry out, sometimes in humble  prayer, sometimes in anger or frustration and God hears every word, no matter how small or insignificant we think we are.   He knows that there  will be many tests (...in this world you will have trouble, remember?...), but  He has equipped us to handle them through the "drills" in life that we have already encountered and overcome.  If we slow down and concentrate we can recall the events that helped to make us who we are and apply that knowledge to our "today".  It can be a long process, but we will never know what we are capable of if He doesn't allow us to be challenged.  If He stepped in every time we got discouraged He would rob us of the opportunity to grow, and raising healthy thoughtful, independent children is the goal of EVERY good parent, right?

When Heaven falls silent and your prayers go seeminigly unanswered it is not because they are too big or too small.   You are not being ignored.   God is concerned about you.   He is giving you an opportunity to wipe your nose on your sleeve, open your spiritual toolbox,  and use what's inside.

Oh, and don't be shy about your victories. He can't wait to put your accomplishments on His refrigerator.