It was morning and I was awake but I was much too comfortable in my bed to get up. Instead, I stayed curled under my cozy covers with fluffy pillows all around me. I kept my eyes closed and just listened to the sounds of the morning. The gurgling noise of the coffee percolating in the pot, birds chirping outside the window and the zip, zip sound of the zipper on my husband’s duffel bag let me know that he was getting ready to leave for work soon. I felt a smidge guilty about being toasty warm under the covers knowing he would have to fight cold weather and bumper to bumper traffic to get to work. Apparently the guilt wasn’t strong enough however, because I pulled the covers closer around me, wiggled my fingers and toes and continued to lie there listening to the morning sounds.

I listened to the shuffling of my husband’s feet in the kitchen, then in the hall and then back to our bedroom. I heard the click of the bathroom light and the squeak of the door as he opened and closed it. Even with my eyes closed, I could picture everything and found the sounds comforting.

A few minutes later, the sounds died down. I assumed my husband was at the point of his morning routine where he sits in the living room drinking coffee and catching up on what things happened on ESPN1 and ESPN2 during the night while he slept. With my eyes still closed and my covers still wrapped snuggly around me, I strained my ears. I could hear something but it didn’t sound like ESPN1 or 2.

I heard a soft muffled sound, almost like praying coming from the left side of the bed. I couldn’t make out any words but I could distinctly hear something. I assumed it was my husband kneeling by the bed praying, as he often does. I laid there silently for a few moments wondering if I should open my eyes and let him know I was awake. Not wanting to interrupt his prayer time I decided to sneak a quick peek at him. Gradually, I cracked open my eyes then slowly turned my head to the left, but he wasn’t there.

I opened my eyes widely and snapped my head to the right to see if perhaps I missed hearing him get up and walk out of the room, but he wasn’t there either. My husband had already left for work. When did he leave? Why didn’t I hear the door shut? When did he stop praying? He was praying, right?

Not given to the “heeby geebees,” I figured there was a reasonable explanation for the fact that I didn’t hear my husband leave and also for the muffled praying sound I was certain that I had heard. I called on the only reliable resource I knew of that could possibly know the answer. I called on God. Before I could even fully pose the question, a clear and definite answer came to me. The Spirit intercedes for all the saints.

A chill washed over me as I considered the possibility that it might not have been my husband praying beside our bed but instead, the Spirit of the living God interceding on our behalf just as His word says.

When my husband returned from work that evening and confirmed he had not been the one praying by the bed, my first thought was that I had imagined it. No sooner did that thought begin to form in my mind, I sensed God’s revelation again. The Spirit intercedes for all the saints.

As a believer in Christ, I suppose I shouldn’t have been so surprised. But I was surprised. I still am surprised. That morning, not ready to get out of bed, I was listening to the sounds around me. The sounds of my husband preparing for work and the many sounds of my household. In the midst of it all, God revealed a truth that I think I may have taken for granted prior to that morning. The truth that there is a great sound going on around believers every day at all times. No, it’s not the “heeby geebies,” it’s the definite sound of the Spirit interceding for your needs and for mine.