I Hear You

She sits at the window


For dreams to become reality

For longings to be fulfilled

She sits at the window


The above poem is entitled Kitty after my family’s pet cat who, due to our lack of decisiveness, is called a variety of things [none of which resemble a proper name, i.e. Kitty, Mang0, and Muffin–our late cat’s name]. I am not fond of felines and am reminded of this every morning I go to make a cup of coffee. Kitty follows me in to the kitchen and incessantly meows at the foot of the pantry door, where she knows her treats reside. She then trails behind as I walk back to my room to read. Her expectation is that I willingly open my porch door, fulfilling her lifelong dream of fenced-in freedom. The reality is that I will open a window and Kitty will wishfully watch the wonders of the outside world go on without her.

After a few peaceful moments, Kitty gets bored. She will hop from her perch to where I sit and, once again, begin her never ending sonnet of sorrow. I, like any childless-cat-parent, repeat over and over “I hear you,” hoping to console her deep-kitty anguish. This routine occurs on the daily and I imagine it will never come to an end.

This morning was different though. As I sat reading, praying and sorting through my thoughts I came to the realization that to God I might sound like my cat sometimes. I say the same things to him over and over. I experience the same feelings over and over. It would be easy to imagine those expressions of wonder and wandering hitting the ceiling and fall to the floor. In that moment I heard him say the words I am often found saying to my cat, “I hear you.”

I was reminded of Romans 8:26 which reads, “In the same was the Spirit [comes to us and] helps us in our weakness. We do not know what prayer to offer or how to offer it as we should,  but the Spirit Himself [knows our need and at the right time] intercedes on our behalf with signs and groanings too deep for words” (AMP). For the second time I have picked up Corey Russel’s book entitled Prayer: Why Our Words to God Matter. In it he writes, “This confidence is not a brazen boldness, but rather a quiet knowing that we belong and that what we are asking for will not be denied because the desire to ask did not begin with us.”

If the words are there–if the longing or desire or dream or wish or whatever it is– if it is there I dare you to speak it. Breath life in to hopes originating beyond the heart you’re holding. And if the words aren’t there? If the words aren’t there lean in to the silence. Consent to wandering with the one crafting the way.

My friend, choose to speak. And when you speak, speak in confidence knowing he is saying, “I hear you.”


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