God hears me

One Saturday evening last October I was cleaning the house and listening to worship music. A favorite song was playing—one I listen to infrequently so I can savor it more. “All hail King Jesus,” it says. “All hail the Lord of heaven and earth.” In a moment of joy I spun around the room with my hands held high and exclaimed, “I love you, Jesus!”

And then I stopped. I wondered whether Jesus received my love. And I went on cleaning.

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I often struggle to believe that God hears my prayers. Maybe I think he’s a passive listener. Omniscient, but not really paying attention. Omnipresent, but reluctantly.

Now, I’ve read there’s nowhere I can flee from his good presence, and that before a word is on my tongue, he knows it completely. But it’s hard to go from head to heart. I need the Holy Spirit to transform my imagination.

Maybe my question was a stirring from the Holy Spirit to hope for something more. Maybe in the midst of doubt, there was a hope arising for communion.

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The next morning I was in church singing the Gloria. As I bowed my head in reverence to Jesus, I heard him speak to me. He said, I hear you.

I immediately remembered my childlike confession of love. Jesus had indeed received it, received me. I cried in the middle of the church service. I felt so honored by him. For who am I to be heard by the Lord of heaven and earth? Who am I to confess love to a king?