As a child, I was never much of a napper. My mom tried everything to get me to nap, including putting me in the room with the constant rumble of the window air conditioning unit, along with my younger brother, Byron. We would get still and wait for what seemed like an eternity, then start whispering to each other so she wouldn’t know that we were still awake. Invariably, from some other room in the house, my mom would say, “You boys quit your whispering and take your naps!” I’m not sure even today if she was bluffing or could really hear our whispering from that other room, over the drone of the air conditioner!

    In the heat and humidity of the summer, I often drift back in my memories to that house on 904 Thomas in Conroe, Texas. I’m not sure what makes those memories so powerful to me. Maybe it’s the welcoming presence of cool, conditioned air as I step into the house from outside... Maybe it’s the rumble of the fan motor that furnishes the background “white noise” that I still love to go to sleep with... But mainly, I think it’s that secure feeling of being in between those cold sheets, whispering to my brother, and knowing that there was someone in the next room that could even hear my whispers.

Somewhere, out beyond those stars, every whisper is heard by a Father who truly cares.

    As an adult Christian, I’ve been blessed greatly by God’s gracious and generous gifts. I’ve also seen bitter disappointments and felt great hurt. I still have more questions than explanations about the way God answers prayer. I’ve seen absolutely miraculous, undeniable, “Yes!” answers that defy explanation. I’ve also seen what I felt were perfectly justifiable requests for mercy and deliverance answered “No!”

    But as time has passed, I guess what matters more to me now than the “Yes” or “No” answers is the absolute assurance that somewhere, out beyond those stars, every whisper is heard by a Father who truly cares. I know for someone who has been disappointed by what they felt were unanswered prayers, or for unbelievers and skeptics, such a faith seems pollyannaish and foolish. But let me assure you, this faith is not untested by fire and not unsalted by tears of anguish. It’s just that as I’ve looked back through the places I’ve been, I’ve found this growing and undeniable sense of God’s presence and care, even when circumstances suggest otherwise.

    So even today, when I find myself in need of restful, cool, and refreshing comfort, I remember the rumble of that old window unit. I feel embrace of those cool crisp sheets. I’m jostled by the squirming of my little brother beside me. And I hear a voice from beyond the stars saying, “I hear you boys whispering. Just relax and take your naps!”

You received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. ... the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. Romans 8:15-16,26