The Little Girl Who Hears

There are viral posts and there are viral posts. I don’t tend toward the cute and furry, but I’ll sometimes click on a video if the caption is entrancing. “Little girl hears for the first time” was one such. And then I go searching for more such.

There are dozens of posts revolving around people who receive cochlear implants and hear for the first time. Some feature infants less than a year old playing with a toy in mom’s lap – dad is always behind the camera—when the technician turns on the device. Their little faces snap up, hearing sound for the first time, and when they connect the sound they are hearing with this beautiful woman who is their comfort and safety – in a word, mom – their faces are precious. Some videos feature older people – children, teens, and adults – and their reactions are more pronounced.

But the one that really got me was little Grayson. This video was different for a few reasons. It was part of a CNN segment, because Grayson didn’t receive a cochlear implant. He received a device heretofore only for adults; he received his through a trial, the first American child to do so. The video was also different because he was sitting on dad’s lap, not mom’s.

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Have you ever prayed and felt like God must be deaf? Or not interested? Or not there at all? You’ve prayed for the wayward child, the broken marriage, the healing, the longed for anything, and not a peep from God.

When I first came to the Lord, it was in a Baptist church parking lot in May, 1994. It was the culmination of a hike, but I’ll try to be brief. You need to hear it because it relates to the story. I had grown up in a liturgical faith, and I found comfort in the ritual. I also found comfort in being “the good girl,” the one who looked the part. “Oh, look at me, I’m righteous and pious and good.”

But I never prayed. Because God didn’t listen anyway.

When I was about 16, I was working on the Religion Award for Girl Scouts. Now a days, such a survey would likely include Hinduism and Islam, but back in the nineties, it was a survey of three: your Christian denomination, another, and Judaism. I never made it as far as Judaism. Never even made it to another denomination, come to that, because my pastor, as nice as he was, didn’t have the answers I sought. I gave up. To heck with it. Or some such.

But, ironically, I started reading my Bible. Never had before, because I didn’t understand it, and didn’t then, either.

That spring, I sat next to a boy in study hall. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he had something like three study halls a day and had no homework to do. All I realized at the time was this boy read his Bible. In study hall. And I thought, “He must know something I don’t.”

I asked him about it. He answered those questions the pastor couldn’t. He invited me to youth group. His name was Rick.

Youth group consisted of Rick, three other boys, the pastor, and me.

At the end of the evening, for several weeks, they would pray around the table “and if you don’t feel comfortable praying out loud, nudge the person next to you.” That was for my benefit.

Until one night we were standing next to my car and I began to cry. Rick asked me what was wrong. I said, “You all pray like God is listening. He’s not listening to me.” There under the street light, Rick explained that my sin keeps me far from God. He led me to the Lord that night, and for the first time in my life I prayed. Really prayed, and knew God heard me.

But now I am nearing 40. Single. No kids. The job I trained for is now out of my reach because of my health issues. All in all, this is not what I had planned. Where is God? Why isn’t He listening?

After I came to know the Lord, that Bible I had read without comprehension began to make sense. The Holy Spirit teaches us and allows us to hear.

….Um, wait. Allows us to hear? God’s the one not listening.

No, child. He’s listening. Sometimes the answer is no. Sometimes it is wait. Often it is not along the lines of what we had planned, but that is because He sees the end of time and we can barely see what is right in front of us. Romans 8 promises us God has our best at heart. And the best thing for each of us is more of Him. He may not give the answer you seek, but He always says the same thing.

Lord, let me hear what You have to say. Let me be the little girl who hears.

Oh, you want to know the first thing Grayson heard? His father said, “Grayson, Daddy loves you.”