To hear your messages, press one

I was asleep. I was in a spinning space between complete unconsciousness and reality when my phone buzzed above me on the top of the headboard behind me. With a single-eyed view of blurry vision, I reached up and located my phone with fumbling fingers.

One new voice message. To hear your messages, press "call." I did.

I didn't know who called... so I waited as I exercised my eyelids like they were doing pull ups. The weight of slumber still only beginning to surrender. To hear your messages, press "one". I did. All these directions... have mercy.

Finally, the message began. I pressed my ear closer. Fuzz... Dangit. All this work, and I couldn't even hear anything.

But then I did. I could faintly make out a voice. There was music playing, adding to the frustrations between distinguishable sounds. The bass was like adding cotton to the sides of my eyes, but translated into imaginary fluff around my ears. I strained to make out who it was. Maybe the person just had a bad connection, or had the phone on speaker.

Then I recognized the voice. It was a good friend of mine. It had only been hours since we had last spoken. Then I realized, she probably had no idea she had called me. Her phone must have been nestled into her purse or something. It all made sense. So then, why did I hear only her voice?

"Lord, give her strength to serve you. Love on her, God..." She was praying! I couldn't help it... I kept listening. The message kept going, revealing her prayers for her daughter, and her sons. I couldn't make it all out, but I understood the names of her children, and a few heartfelt petitions. She continued to pray for strength for the day, as she was heading to work. A pause would follow a string of words. Then she'd lift her voice again, "God, thank you for the opportunity to do this today...." I quieted my breathing, believing the lesser the sound of it, the lesser the cotton in my ears would interrogate the word struggling to hold understood meaning.

At around three minutes, the message cut off. I pushed the "end" button, and stared off. My pillow waited for my head to fall back on it, but it didn't right away. I swallowed, and let my breath contribute to the air in the room. The fan kept flying around in circles, and the sunshine outside crept through my blinds making faces to the darkened space around me.

I stretched my arm out to give my phone to my headboard, and mused at what I'd just experienced. I heard a few moments of this woman's time with God on her way to work. I was a criminal in a sense... but I didn't care. I knew there was something to be grasped by this somewhat silly and accidental situation.

It was sacred. This woman's time with God in her car, as music played around the closed quarters of her car. She engaged in intercession over her children. She praised God for her job, and asked for strength and peace for the day.

It made me think about what I do when I'm driving. I usually have either Q102 playing or some other station I trusted to give me the songs I liked to sing to on the road. It's true I miss having a Hillsong CD constantly playing... I don't usually drive a car that I can leave my own stuff in.... let alone a car that can play my ipod. I resort to the radio. I love the radio. But I don't usually like listening to the Christian stations... I get annoyed by them sometimes. But basically... my time spent in the car is much. And I don't use it like this friend of mine did, and accidentally shared with me.

It made me consider what I give up to have time with God. And in truth, I don't give up much. Not enough. His hands are constantly opened, offering me more. And I don't usually take hold of both of His hands. I take hold of worship, and going to church a few times a week... I take hold of devotions and what not...

I was moved. And it's challenged me. And I did saved the message. Maybe someday I'll tell this woman how this affected me. Someday I will.