I have to confess that before having kids I was one of those moms. And if you read that sentence carefully, you will see the glaringly obvious issue… before I had kids. Among the many opinions that have long since fallen away with ten years of actual maternal wisdom: I was of the firm conviction that my child was NOT going to go to daycare. I’m not sure how I envisioned that working so perfectly being a working mom myself.
Nevertheless… (insert all the eye rolls here)
However, as the time came for me to go back to work, it became apparent that we would in fact need to send our sweet darling baby to daycare. And in a story only the heavens could write, we found one that was a perfect fit for our family which went on to essentially raise all our precious babies from weeks old on up.
And then, nearly nine years of loving on my children later, they closed. I was devastated because these women had become like family, and I set out to find another option that undoubtedly had incredible shoes to fill. And of course, just as God always does to work things out, we found just the place.
On the day that we went to tour the daycare with our youngest who would be attending, I felt the nervousness build. How would he react? How would he adjust to this life change? Would he be utterly miserable? You know, kids are way more resilient than we give them credit for, and he did just fine.
We arrived just as they were wrapping up centers and starting to head into story time. We observed from the back corner the structured chaos typical of any pre-school classroom that I believe is earning those teachers a direct ticket to the best spot in heaven. It was noisy. It was busy. It was filled with worries called out from small children and instructions called out from their leaders. And then…
With a voice I struggled to hear, the precious teacher sat down and whispered, “If you can hear me, touch your eyes. If you can hear me, touch your nose. If you can hear me, touch your knees…”
The chaos calmed. The children settled. They all began to silently obey the instruction. All because of a whisper.
Many times in my life, I have tried to gain attention through the yelling. I have also looked for direction from what I hoped to be a metaphorical giant gaudy billboard flashing in the sky. But the truth of the matter is, sometimes the most important instruction comes after we have stilled to hear the whisper. The quiet moments where we have settled our souls and are quiet enough to notice the still small voice that is speaking.
Don’t miss the whisper.
We live in a society where there are nearly no quiet moments. If we are stilled, we are scrolling and when we are silent, we are often distracted with all the noise of life. But if that is the case, how will we ever hear the whisper?
Believe me, I am not casting stones; I’m the chiefest of sinners. But every day I am trying to reach for quiet rather than reach for my phone. I am trying to tune out the noise for something new. I am aiming for more still moments. Moments that make my heart feel alive and attentive to the whisper. It’s in these moments where we recognize the Voice that longs to speak to us. It’s a Voice we may have stomped our feet and adamantly declared we could not hear. But friend, it’s been there all along. The Voice has never quieted.
Just simply quiet your heart to hear the whisper…