I once heard the story of a man named Steve who, when he was 2 years old, became deaf after contracting spinal meningitis. For the next 58 years of his life, he lived in total silence—no music, no laughter, no voices of his loved ones. His life was full and happy enough, especially since he couldn’t remember much of the time before he lost his hearing. He had resigned himself, for better or worse, to life without sound.
Then, in 2001, his doctor proposed a procedure that could change Steve’s life forever.
This new surgical procedure would implant a sound wave detection device that could bypass the nonfunctioning part of Steve’s ear. Essentially, the device would transmit the audio signals directly to the auditory nerve in the brain. It wasn’t a dangerous procedure, so Steve happily decided to try it. But there was an annoying catch: They wouldn’t know if the surgery had been successful for six weeks. (What must those six weeks have been like?)
Finally, the day arrived. Steve and his wife came back to the audiologist’s office, nervous and excited. The audiologist programmed the cochlear implant on his device, held his finger over the final key, and looked to Steve to ask him if he was ready. Steve gave the go-ahead, and the audiologist pressed the button.
Then, the audiologist turned to Steve’s wife and gave a silent signal, prompting her to say something. She leaned toward Steve and gently said, “I love you.” Steve’s face broke into a bright smile. Not only could he hear again, but the first sounds he’d heard in six decades were words of personal love. Both he and his wife wept as they held each other, chattering away for the first time ever.
I love that story, because I imagine this is what it’s like when God opens our spiritual ears. We are born spiritually deaf, unaware of the things of God. But unlike Steve, who knew what he was missing, we aren’t even aware we’re deaf. But when the gospel breaks into our lives, our spiritual ears open, allowing us to hear God’s declaration of love for each of us. Not only are our ears opened, but the first spiritual words we hear are those of personal love.
In John 10, Jesus says that he knows his sheep—not only knows them, but knows them by name—and they know him. When the Holy Spirit dwells in us, he allows us to experience the love of God, teaching us to say, “Abba, Father.” In the gospel, you see, it’s not merely that we know God (which is amazing). It’s not even that we are known by God (which is even more amazing). It’s that we are known and cherished and loved by God. He knows us and calls us by name. His voice reaches down from heaven, beckoning us to join him in the love he has enjoyed from eternity past.
Sometimes, God allows us to experience this tender love in tangible ways, like he did with Steve. Or like he did with a pastor I once heard preach, who shared his wife’s journey toward God’s love.
This pastor was putting his daughter to bed one night. It wasn’t an exceptional moment. He did the same thing he did every night—laid in her bed and sung to her, “You Are My Sunshine.” But he came out of her room to find his wife in tears.
When he asked what was wrong, she explained: “I’m so thankful for your delight in our daughter. How beautiful is it that she has you to sing over her like that? But every time I hear you sing, it makes me mourn for my relationship with my earthly father. He never sang to me like that. I can’t think of a single time he delighted in me. It just stings.”
Time passed and the couple moved on. Then, at a staff prayer meeting one day, they went forward to receive prayer about some financial issue they were experiencing. Another pastor laid his hand over them and while praying, sensed an unusual prompting from the Holy Spirit. “This is a little odd,” he said, “but I feel like God wants me to tell you … ‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.’” In that moment, they both unraveled. God was speaking to them, offering them the assurance of his deep love and care for them. Even when their own families had failed to model love for them, God stepped in to speak a restorative word.
All of us long for an experience of God’s love like this. We want that moment, like Steve, where we hear words of love for the first time in decades. We want, like this pastor and his wife, to know that God delights in us like a daddy does his little girl. And sometimes, because he is tender toward us, we get experiences like this.
Often, however, we don’t.
That might make you feel disappointed, even angry. Why do they get that tangible moment of divine love and I don’t? I don’t have a complete answer for that. But I do know this: The Apostle Paul says that the Holy Spirit sheds abroad the love of God in our hearts by allowing us to perceive the gospel. Scripture tells us that no one can say “Jesus is Lord” except through the Holy Spirit. So if we’re able to recognize that Jesus is Lord, that’s evidence of God’s love for us.
If you believe in Jesus, then you need to know that the voice of God sings over you, delights in you, considers you a precious son or daughter. As the prophet Zephaniah wrote, “The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing” (Zephaniah 3:17).
Whether you have a modern-day prophet tell you or not, the reality is this: If you are in Christ, God sings over you. He loves you. And, as the hymn says, “no power of hell, no scheme of man, can ever pluck [you] from his hand.”
