A Morning’s Calling

The morning I heard my name called, it was my wife’s voice, but I knew she was out running errands. Still, to be sure I called her on her cell. “Oh, it’s you,” she exclaimed, “I just said to the pharmacist that I wished my husband were here to help translate for this Latino man!’ Then later in the afternoon I received a letter containing an article entitled something like, “Hearing My Name Called.” Samuel heard the voice of God disguised in the sound of his master Eli’s voice, so if we ever hear the audible voice of God on earth it’s possible that it could be disguised in the sound of a voice with which we may be familiar, like our own family members and friends that are so easy to tune out while multi-tasking. It’s almost scary to be so close to someone you can hear them thinking along the track of your own thoughts or talking miles away…and then later for one to return home stepping quietly onto the first porchstep with that envelope from the day’s mail with the heading: “Hearing My Name Called” only to have the porchlight switched on at that precise second from the one within who “happened” to think of it considerately at that moment.
.”Behold I stand at the door and knock, if anyone hear my voice and open-‘ But I didn’t reject You, some will say, I just didn’t accept You. I didn’t really send you away, that was your choice. I just didn’t answer You.” Yeah, right.