By: Marlene Oxender
It was a sunny summer day when I was sitting at a red light, thinking about my afternoon plans. I needed to make a quick trip to the grocery store before heading home, and I was hoping for no delays.
That’s when it occurred to me – God knows our plans. He knows our thoughts and intentions. He hears our voice.
It’s been a fun thing – my daughters and I sound alike. You could say we have the same voice. Years ago, when we answered our landline phone, the person on the other end could not tell us apart. Except my husband – he knew who was speaking and always had us from hello.
I’d never thought about the difference in voices. Some are raspy. Some are tiny. Some are loud and boisterous.
My daydream stopped when the red light turned green. I made a mental note to remember to write about our voices.
God has heard it all. He knows the cares we keep. He knows our likes and dislikes. He’s heard our promises and vows along the way. He’s listened to the rules we’ve made for ourselves.
If we could hear God’s thoughts in return, would He tell us how much He loves the sound of our voice? He’s the first to arrive at our pity party. He knows every heartache and every dream.
He knows how much better we feel when we take our minds off ourselves. When we care for others. When we recognize our problems as catalysts.
My thoughts kind of blew me away. God is with us through it all. He’s there before the tears even form in our eyes. He knows about every crazy emotion that wants to spend the day with us.
He knows it takes a long time to see the full picture, and He knows what part of the picture is still not in focus.
My grandson Deano was four years old when I asked him if he would still visit Grandpa and me when we are old. There was a pause before he answered, “Grandma, you already am old!”
When a grandchild makes a statement such as that, it causes laughter. It causes discussion amongst those who are present. In this case, I was told I’d set myself up for that kind of talk from a four-year-old.
I felt that Deano had not answered my question. Instead, he focused on bringing his grandmother back to reality. After all, the proof is in the pudding: You’re already old. I am visiting. You have your answer.
Deano’s words were so memorable, I used them for the title of my third book: “Grandma, You Already Am Old!”
I recently asked my great-nephew Jackson if he wanted to grow up. He told me he’d rather stay a kid, and when I asked why, he said that when you grow up, you have to work and pay bills – like utilities.
Jackson is correct. If only there were a way to hide from growing up. Like maybe take cover in our blanket fort – then certainly all would be well all the days of our lives.
Our only concern may be keeping fresh batteries in our flashlights. And sharp crayons. And good reading material.
When we watch children on the playground, we can take ourselves back to the days when we, too, were running and jumping and playing. We watch as their hands make their way across the monkey bars without much effort, and we remember how easy it once was.
In turn, children see adults sitting on playground swings, barely swinging, and see people who’ve grown up. People who work and pay utility bills. People who can no longer swing their arms from one monkey bar to the next.
Only after we’ve grown up do we realize older people are simply living in the moment as they watch children at play and enjoy listening to their beautiful young voices.
When I was a child, I could tell which sibling was walking up the staircase – just from the sound of their footsteps. Even if they ran up the stairs or took two steps at a time, l knew who it was.
Family members may look alike and sound alike, but we’re wonderfully designed with unique differences. Unique abilities. Unique thoughts.
And a unique voice so cleverly designed – He’ll always have us from hello.
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Marlene Oxender is a writer, speaker, and author. She writes about growing up in the small town of Edgerton, her ten siblings, the memorabilia in her parents’ estate, and her late younger brother, Stevie Kimpel, who was born with Down syndrome. Her three published books, Picket Fences, Stevie, and “Grandma, You Already Am Old!” are available on Amazon. Marlene can be reached at mpoxender@gmail.com