My First Spanish Sacred Echo

It was hard to get out of bed yesterday after a four-day weekend that I packed entirely too full of cooking and cleaning and driving all over creation. Still, I managed to move quickly enough for a short quiet time before departing for my weekly office day.

Sweet Riggy, My Faithful Quiet-Time Buddy

The entry in my Jesus Listens devotional encouraged me, as always. I especially enjoyed a beloved verse in Isaiah 41, which felt new because I was reading in Spanish. I always read the Bible in Spanish so that I can avoid the complacency that comes with familiarity, and also so that I can practice my pronunciation. 

"Do not be afraid," I read. "Don't be dis... couraged? For I am with you. I am your God. I will... strengthen you. I will sustain you with my right hand." 

When I finished reading the scriptures, I said a quick prayer over my children and my workday. Then, I rushed around gathering my laptop, my lunch, my tea, and my breakfast: banana pudding overnight oats in a mason jar. 

The oats were a quite runny because I'd had to substitute steel-cut oats for rolled oats, and I struggled to eat them without dropping the delicious goop onto my pants. When I needed to take a bite, I pressed the jar against the steering wheel, crooking my left pinky and ring finger against the wheel while I gingerly lifted out a spoonful with my right hand. 

I had just successfully maneuvered another bite into my mouth when a Spanish-speaking woman inexplicably interrupted the worship music I'd been enjoying. "What the-?" I muttered as I glanced at the radio display. I was now listening to a different channel. The excited voice crackled with static, and my finger hovered over one of the radio's preset buttons. The woman sounded so happy. Maybe I should take this opportunity to practice my listening comprehension.

No, I decided. I was too tired for my brain to work that hard, especially since the static made it even harder to follow her rapid, excited speech. As I touched the preset button, though, impassioned phrases began to penetrate my consciousness. "I was so worried about my son," she said. "...carcel (prison)... grandchildren so sad.,, Prayed and prayed... No changes. He was depressed, very thin, wasn't eating."

I vacillated between my will to zone out and the desire to know what happened to this woman's son. When I caught the word Isaías, my hand moved from the preset button to the volume knob. Could it be? I wondered. 

Yes! Of course it was. A sacred echo! "No temas," she recited. "Yo estoy contigo; no te desanimes. Yo soy tu Dios." 

My heart thrilled at the same words I had read aloud just 20 minutes earlier, in the same language. "Don't be afraid. I am with you. I am your God." 

I listened to the rest of her story, comprehending the high points. A preacher had come to the prison. The son's life was changed, and he eventually returned home and surprised her and her grandkids while they were eating. Even though it looked like nothing was changing, she concluded, God was answering her prayers.

Tears filled my eyes when I heard the happy tears in her voice. I grabbed a gently used tissue from the console and swiped it across my nose, then changed the channel back to the worship music. Just as I always do, I marveled over this sacred echo. What are the odds? I asked for the hundredth time. And then I realized that this was a little different. This time, both the verse and its echo had been in Spanish. This was perhaps my very first Spanish sacred echo! 

Just then, the Spanish station cut in again, and I figured out what was causing this anomaly. My jar of oats was pressing against the radio controls on the steering wheel, which I never use. I laughed at myself, but I still preferred to believe that God had changed the channel. 

I smiled over the memory all through my workday. I hope to remember the woman's message, that I should always keep praying and never lose hope because I can't see how God is working, and He is always with me. I can't wait to see how He will answer all of the beautiful prayers for my children.