A few days before my birthday this year, I lugged my husband Jon to a large local flea market. He was thrilled. As his eyes glazed over, I kept seeing small wooden rockers that triggered a memory from my ancient past. Undaunted by his lack of enthusiasm, I began to tell him about the small rocker that had been in my great grandfather’s house by his wood-burning stove. That image of Great Aunt Leona,
Auntie, in that rocker in their modest stone house in rural Missouri brought intense warm fuzzy feelings. I hadn’t thought about or seen that rocker for probably over 30 years. I told Jon I would have loved to have kept it. I know that chair overheard many prayers, Jesus songs, and sweet conversations.
Two days after our flea market adventure, we visited my Aunt Norma, and as we were ready to leave, she said, “Oh wait. I have something I want to show you.”
She took me to her back bedroom, and there was the precious rocker. “I want you to have it,” she uttered kindly.
No one but Jon had known about my desire…Oh yes, Someone else heard…A Someone who hears and loves to give us precious gifts.
Now as I sit in my rocker by my fireplace, I know He hears my prayers, my songs. We talk. We listen. We sing. We enjoy each other’s company–just as I did with my sweet great grandfather and great aunt as a child.
He hears. He cares. He speaks, He gives. He loves.
“You have multiplied, O LORD my God, Your wondrous deeds and Your thoughts toward us; none can compare with You! I will proclaim and tell of them, yet they are more than can be told” (Psalm 40:5).