Long before it’s time for Michael to eat, I fill a small syringe with the prescribed amount of the medicine he takes to help control his acid reflux. Next, I fill a nursing bottle with a measured amount of water and set the powdered baby formula beside it so that, when it’s time for Michael to eat, all I have to do is add the powder to the water and shake it well.

If Michael is really hungry when he wakes up from his nap, I’m sure he thinks I’m never going to feed him. You see, I have to give him his medicine at least 15 minutes before giving him his bottle.

While we wait, I change his diaper and then carry him around the house. When we stop to look in the mirror, he seems surprised that that baby has a Nana who looks just like his. He likes to look out the window and watch the birds eating from their feeders at the end of the deck. Sometimes we go outside and stroll around on the driveway.

But as his hunger increases, he tires of all that and begins to “fuss” at me for not getting his bottle ready. He’s too young (3 months) to understand that I’m totally aware of his needs and that I have everything all set for his feeding. Although he may think I’m either unaware of or else unconcerned about what’s happening to him, I am neither of those. Actually, while he was still sleeping and blissfully unaware of the hunger sensations that he would soon experience, I had already anticipated his need and prepared to meet it.

As I reflect on that, I recall what David said to God: “O LORD, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my every thought when far away. You chart the path ahead of me and tell me where to stop and rest. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, LORD. You both precede and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to know!” (Psalm 139:1-6).

That same God who knew David so intimately also knows every thing there is to know about you and me. Again and again, He says to us, “Call to Me, and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know” (Jeremiah 33:3, New American Standard Bible).

Those words thrill me. And I rejoice over them all the more when I read that same promise in the Amplified Bible: “Call to Me, and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things, fenced in and hidden, which you do not know—do not distinguish and recognize, [do not] have knowledge of and understand.” (Although that translation is a bit wordy, I like the shades of meaning it brings out.)

As I reflect on those words, I realize anew how much like baby Michael we adults are. Most of the time we are completely oblivious to what God is doing, completely oblivious to the way He watches over us, completely oblivious to how He prepares to meet our needs even before they become apparent to us.

Because we can’t figure out what’s really going on, we, like Michael, often “fuss” about God’s care of us. We assume He does not love us. We assume that He has failed to see what’s going on. Sometimes we wonder if He is able to do what we need.

But the God who lovingly and faithfully nurtures us is the same God who watched over David. Therefore, we must learn to trust Him completely, as David did, even when circumstances might cause us to doubt him.

Johnnie Ann Burgess Gaskill, mailto:jgaskill@charter.net.