Prayer

Infants babble: squeaks and squeals, mums and dahs. Complex mechanics of exhaled air and vibrating tissue lighten the room. Her primal utterings are assertive, declaring both individuality and a born desire for community. The resulting discordant noise, seemingly pointless, dances above my level of intellect. Strings of simple consonants form meaningless wonders.

Beautiful paradox in the mold of a child. Milestones hinge youth and maturity, infant and adult. Her joyful proclamations present a hidden purpose, a mother hears and understands. I accept the offering of a window into her budding spirit; a glimpse into the created heart, my created child. Woven by the hands of God.

Babbling away silently: asserting my own voice, humbly, but boldly. Mechanics of undeserving conversation, undeserving of attention. A desire for the original community that bonded man and Creator. He perceives my inward most thoughts. He loves me despite. An infant in knowledge, in understanding, in wisdom; as a child, I speak to my Father as my children speak to me.