The Only Whispers I Can Hear

Would life be better if I could hear better?

Would I notice the subtle differences in people’s voices, or the tones used in their speech? Or be able to hear the door bell ring or the microwave beep, or the wall clock tick? Or distinguish instantly who is calling me by listening to voice, not merely glancing at caller I.D.?

Would all the sounds I am no longer able to hear suddenly become recognizable? The sound of my three-year-old son giggling in his room when I am downstairs. The guitar music my husband strums behind closed bedroom doors while I’m standing in the laundry room with a dryer rumbling.

Would I hear the soft voice that doesn’t come from anywhere but the heart? God’s whispering throughout the day of promises…that He would never leave me, that He has a plan for me beyond what I can hear.

Would I listen to God, or pay attention to all the other noises coming through my ears? Let the shouts from family, television, and radio take priority over holy whispers?

Maybe, just maybe God allowed my progressive hearing loss so I could hear those whispers better.

“I will lead (them) by a road they do not know, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground … I will not forsake them.” (Isaiah 42:16)

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