It was only the second night after my husband had moved from earth to eternity, and I was tucking my 4- and 7-year old grandsons into bed. This was a routine that my husband and I had eagerly shared when we were together with our grandsons. First, we would give them a bath, then have a snack, then brush teeth, then read a couple of books. And then, it was time for perhaps the best part of all, “tucking them in bed,” which consisted of saying prayers, singing songs, and rubbing backs.
From the time that our grandsons were babies, the two of us had always sung together the song “Kookaburra” to them using a round format (like “Row, Row, Row Your Boat,” where one person starts singing and then the other begins after the first phrase). “Kookaburra” was one of their favorites. As I began the bedtime routine for the first time since my husband’s passing, I wondered how I could adapt “Kookaburra,” since it appeared that it would no longer be a round but a solo. I entertained skipping it entirely, but I immediately had the thought to just start singing.
As I started singing, something prompted me to stop singing after the first phrase and say to my grandsons, “If you will listen with your ‘God ears,’ you will hear Papa Terry singing with us.” And sure enough, as I continued the song, I heard deep within my spirit–using my “God ears”–my husband singing with me in our usual round. When I finished singing, my 4-year old grandson piped up excitedly, “Nani, I heard Papa Terry singing ‘Kookaburra’ with my ‘God ears.’” As the tears streamed down my face, I said, “Yes, I did, too.”
Understand that this is the same grandson that has determined that Papa Terry now assists God with the weather. (If you didn’t read the blog, “I Bet Papa Helps God With the Weather,” you can read it at bilhartzmd.com.)
Could it be that our “God Ears” provide us with more trusted information than our physical ears can provide? Why do we often find as adults that it is so difficult for us to see the world through our “God eyes” and to hear the world through our “God ears”? What if we experimented with the thought this week that we would commit to living at perhaps that higher level of reality? That level where we look for miracles instead of the norm, love instead of fear, joy instead of drudgery, hope instead of despair, and forgiveness instead of bitterness? How might our lives and others’ lives be transformed if we allowed our hearts to open to that amazing world of infinite truth and possibility?
My husband’s sudden passing has challenged me to choose to relish the remarkable ride as often as possible. Perhaps if I would use my “God Ears” more, I’d find I could do just that. I’d welcome your company.