The Beauty and Requests of Voices

It hasn't been long that I've had ears to hear what's going on outside my mom's womb. The distinct beauty and uniqueness to each person's voice amazes me. Most of the voices sound like mere murmers from inside here, but when the voices are loud enough or someone is close enough to my mom, I can hear very clearly. Last night there were two distinct sounds I heard that I am still pondering and remembering.

The first of the sounds was music. I've heard the music my mom and dad play already—Miles Davis, Jack Johnson, Damien Rice, Al Green, Counting Crows, and a variety of others—and it's not bad by any means. But this music was noticably different. Instead of the voices projecting through a speaker, it was as if hundreds of people were gathered together, singing in unison a song that clearly represented meaning to them. Songs about the glory of "God," his worthiness, how much they love him and what he's done. You should have heard all the voices. They were beautiful.

The second thing I heard which I can't stop thinking about were my mom's and dad's voices. It wasn't the sound of their voices that made it stand out, but more importantly, what they said. From what I could hear, they were talking to their father. With their hands pressed up against my mom's belly (I can feel that stuff), they asked their dad to instill within me a desire and yearning for purity. They requested that I would have wisdom and that their father would protect me from any harm or ill intent. This is one of many requests I've listened in to. I'm not exactly sure what everything they requested of their father meant, or even why they requested the things they did, but I do know they made those requests together because they love me.

At the end of their request, I heard them mention that "God" name again. I've heard him mentioned over and over now. While I've only had ears for a short time, I hear my parents saying his name incredibly often. I don't know who this God person is yet, but I sure am interested to find out more about him and meet him. Someday.

Until next time, that's (my continuous learning experience of) life thus far.