At breakfast Cam tells me earnestly, ‘Mom. A way to know if you’re pregnant is to keep an eye on your tummy.’

I say yes, for sure, but there are other ways of knowing before your tummy gives you away.

‘Like what?’ He asks. I explain about blood tests and two-pink-stripe tests.

He spoons in the chocolate FutureLife unfazed. He doesn’t fully fathom the intricacies that play out miraculous between two people and escalate into life even before those two people know it.

And really, God gives birth to all of life that way. Because we’re the last to see what He has been watchfully secreting into days and decades and since eternity past. He manoeuvres puzzles and people long before we’re aware of it. Sometimes we’re never aware of it. There’s life born around us all the time and we hardly notice it unless it intersects with our reality in an obvious, ironic or serendipitous way.

Just this month there’s been a baby chosen for friends who have waited years for him. They didn’t know how he was growing in the dark until they were told he was theirs.

Just ten years ago my fiancé was six months away from graduating as top optometry student and, though we didn’t know it, four years away from channelling all that brilliance into the life of his son.

Because the promise swells with life:

‘I will answer them before they even call to Me. While they are still talking about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers!’ (Isaiah 65:24)

Then we’re at a birthday party and the kids are tripping on sugar and so much fun and the guy from Clamber Club is clowning and yelling out Simon-says to-dos and kidding around with wild actions because he’s trying to catch them out for a laugh.

Cam stands eager at the back of the jostle.

I feel the familiar angst. Turn and sigh quiet to Murray, ‘He won’t see what the guy’s doing.’

‘No, look,’ he says. Amazed. Chuffed. ‘He’s doing it. Watch.’

‘Lift your arms!’ yells Clamber Club guy, lifting his own. All the kids do it. Cam’s copying the kids close to him.

Or is he?

‘Touch your fingers!’ he yells again, bending down to touch his toes. All the kids bend down and touch their toes.

Except one. The one at the back with the glasses. He’s still standing. Ten fingers meeting point to point.

He is so not out!

I can’t believe how massively thrilled I feel. How relieved I am when the scales tip in his favour. He listens to instructions like no one I know because the instructions are all he has to go on.

And I think how sometimes when it’s too dark to see what God’s doing we listen to what He’s saying because His voice is all we have to go on. (Tweet it, go on.)

Like, maybe you hear better in the dark?

Because the din of bright life can drown out what’s really being said. And in the dark – of depression, disappointment, tough decisions, dying economies or difficult relationships – you can’t see anything but the next thing. The real thing. The courageous, obedient thing you’re called to. The thing that – if you keep an eye on it – grows round with hope.

. . .

Have an awesome week. Please share this post if someone you love is struggling to see where and how God is at work in these days.

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