Our daughter, Meagan, was the nanny for the first year--of our first, and to this point, only grandchild, The Amazing Wyatt. As you might have already surmised, he is perfect. I love getting down on his level and playing with him, turning his spoon into an airplane to get him to eat, playing peek-a-boo with him, and just observing his fascination and curiosity with his toddler world.
Wyatt, though he is yet to speak English, is nonetheless bi-lingual--his languages are laughter and his tears. Meagan, and his mom and dad, are especially adept at decoding his heartbreaking cries. Sometimes his fussing says, "I'm hungry." Other times it says, "I'm tired." Or, "I'm not getting what I want, or need!" Finally, there is another, a frustrated wail, that says, "I'm not really sure what I want!" Because of their familiarity with Wyatt, they listen for a moment, decipher his sounds of baby sorrow, and then provide his true needs. Slowly, Wyatt is learning to communicate his desires in vowels and consonants, words and phrases, and understand the responses he receives. But that would never happen without my little guy being surrounded by those who can discern his infantile language of tears. Thankfully, he does have loving people who want to supply his needs, and they are teaching him how to verbalize his emotions into linguistic expressions.
As God's children, we mature along a similar learning curve--especially when we cry out to God in a language of tears that says, "I'm not really sure what I want, or need!" Know this, He is listening, and just as those who monitor Wyatt's world know what his cries are really expressing, so, too, God knows the cries of our hearts. Slowly, as we watch God's response to our cries, we learn to understand his language, discern His voice, and spiritually communicate with our heavenly Father.