I sit early in the morning, too early to need to be awake. I think to turn on the Rainy Mood app on my tablet and adjust the thunder, birds and rain intensity and smile to myself as it plays out in the darkness of my room. Weather preferences at a click, no umbrella required. Comfort wraps me up in dry raindrops that fall in my ears.

I grab my current read and turn on a soft lamp. Everybody Always by Bob Goff. He talks about a neighbor across the street from his home, Carol; a neighbor who had become family. She was widowed and older. She had just been given the news that cancer had come to take up space in her body and quietly entrusted him with two small words….”I’m afraid.” He drove to the store and bought two walkie talkies; one for her, one for his family. He set it up beside Carol’s bedside and ran home to try it out. “Hi Carol!”, said Bob. He listened to the crackly static. “Bob! Is that you?!”, said Carol. Comfort was born in the sound of that static.

I put down the book and looked at the clock. It’s past going to sleep again and I walk to the Keurig and press start. The gurgling waterfalls over the coffee pod and the sound smells like peace. Comfort falls into my cup and I carry it back and sit on the couch.

Thank you, Father God, for sounds that move me to see and smell and touch and respond; for the comfort that spreads over my life because I can hear. Static on the other end promises a response to words heard by a friend who was listening. Gurgles from a coffee maker form the steam curls of provision for things I don’t need but yet still decorate my life with small moments. Birds and thunder and raindrops, real or recorded, remind me to look for the hand of my Creator.

Thank you that hearing causes me to see. I love you too, God.