A Child Just Knows…

(This is a re-post. I needed to hear it, actually…)

At the end of church this morning, Steve, one of the pastors, asked me if I would help set up for the evening service. On Sunday evenings, the service is moved into the atrium instead of the main auditorium. A lady fixes supper and the music is acoustic.  Its usually a smaller group and we sit at round tables. A nice, relaxed setting.

I got there early to find that everything had already been set up, but hung around for the service and to hear the guys leading worship practice. The guy leading brought his infant child with him and left the baby in the infant carrier sitting on the floor while they began to play and sing. A little while later, Steve and his wife came in with their infant daughter. Steve’s wife took the worship leader’s baby into a side room, following Steve with their little girl. After a few minutes, a baby began to cry… a fearful cry. Since I was sitting to the side of the room, I couldn’t see the various attempts to comfort the child, but imagined the rocking and smiling and smooching and shushing and…. But to no avail. The crying continued until Steve’s wife, Erin (I JUST REMEMBERED HER NAME!) brought the baby out into the atrium and walked over in front of the baby’s daddy as he sang. As soon as Erin came out of the room and the baby heard her daddy’s voice, the crying stopped… Erin walked around in that rocking gate that mothers know so well close by the singing/guitar playing daddy. The little baby kept her eyes glued to her daddy, listening intently. One of her hands began to move in rythm with the music. She was transfixed by the music of His voice. I must say, it was one of the most beautiful things I have seen in a long time.

As I thought about it later, I was reminded of my daughter, Hannah. When she was a young child, Hannah would have bad dreams from time to time. The only way she would go back to sleep was if I would come into her room, lay down beside her or beside the bed and lay my hand on the edge of her bed and hold her hand. Usually, she would go to sleep and I was able to return to bed. Sometimes, however, the dream was so vivid that she would beg me to stay the rest of the night. If she heard me stir, she would immediately awaken to make sure I wasn’t leaving. She was OK as long as Daddy was in the room…

Daddy’s voice…

Daddy’s touch…





I know that not everyone has had a great experience with their earthly fathers. Some folk’s experience has been downright tragic… even destructive. I truly grieve for those folks. A kind, gentle, strong, patient father is a wonderful picture of how God would like to be portrayed to His children. Both scenes are pictures of a Father:

Who hears our cry…

Who knows our fear…

Who speaks and sings if we will listen…

Who reaches to touch if we will reach out…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s