Tip of My Iceberg

She talks to her all the time. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she was talking to herself.

Melody and Chris are having their first baby soon. Another grandchild for us, but their little girl will be their introduction into parenthood.

Melody has already been having conversations with her daughter. Conversations I’d expect from Mel–a type A, high energy, high capacity kind of a gal.

Conversations that outline a plan of action.

Something like this:

“It would be helpful if you would come sometime between 8 a.m. and 10 p.m. Your dad and I will be more alert and engaged, and life will be simpler. And if you could manage to come at about 38 weeks instead of waiting the full 40, that would be nice, too. You’re actually good to go at 38, so this isn’t really rushing you. I’m just saying.”

She’s somewhat joking. Her conversations are sweet and fun and gentle. And very Mel.

You can tell she’s pregnant from the front and side as her baby bump is quite obvious.

From the back you can’t tell at all. Hearing her talk out loud to someone who can’t be seen is a little quirky.

Isley gets this better than most. She talks about the baby–and to the baby. She’s got ideas on what she should wear. Fills her in on her cousins. She’s enamored with another girl cousin.

At five she’s not fully cognitive of the birth process. She grasps the baby growing in Mel’s womb. She knows she’ll be here soon. She knows the drill. She’s got a little brother.

Babies eventually come out.

When you hear her talking to someone who isn’t present, it’s funny. The baby will know Isley’s voice more than any of the cousins. But right now, she’s talking to a tummy.

Just because we can’t see her doesn’t mean the baby isn’t aware.

She’ll know her mom’s voice when she’s born.

I get discouraged when I don’t see God acting on my behalf when I really need Him. When He feels distant and silent in times of pain and anxiety. It can be easy to forget that He’s there. Present.

He promised He’d never leave us, fail us, abandon us. He promised He’d be with us till the end of the world, when those who know Him will be with Him forever.

It’s easy, when life looks bleak, to feel alone. Unheard. Ignored. Like my prayers are bouncing off the ceiling. Going nowhere.

That’s the lie. God, being God, keeps His promises. He can’t–won’t–doesn’t go back on what He says. His truth is absolute.

Many won’t agree. How can you believe in a God you can’t see?

I see His presence everywhere. The reality of who He is in my life. How I’ve changed.

Just like I see the reality of the presence of that baby girl in Melody.

Conversing with an unborn baby? An exercise in faith and love, awaiting the day she arrives.

Conversing with an unseen God? An exercise in faith, awaiting His return.

Makes more sense to me than a lot of things I do see.

Because I know His voice.