I’ve heard wives complain about husbands snoring and husbands objecting to wives’ breathing machines, but there are no more stressful nighttime sounds than those of a newborn. Every parent is on red-alert that first night, listening to their baby sleep, stunned by how noisy he/she is. It’s as if the baby has spent 9 months developing an extensive repertoire of sound effects she then begins to reveal the minute mommy and daddy turn out the lights.

Snort. Squeak. Squawk. Squeal.

It’s a sleepless night to be sure, and even those moments of quiet become cause for concern. (I remember putting a mirror in front of newborn Nelson’s nose to see if he was still breathing.) But God has made babies far sturdier than they first seem. As we look at a fragile-looking infant not yet 24 hours old, it seems illogical to think she’ll probably live to see 100.

In the hours after Monday’s home birth, the two highly experienced midwives took care of mother and baby in every way, educating the rest of us as they worked and chatted calmly throughout the emotionally charged circumstances. One of the midwives said, “No need to worry about those middle-of-the-night baby noises. She’s just doing what comes naturally. It’s absolutely musical.”

That last statement stuck with me. There’s a mile-wide gap between “is he breathing” and “isn’t it musical.” I wonder if that’s what it’s like with God. We squawk about our troubles and snort about life being unfair. Might this sound like music to God’s ears?

Although he tells us he doesn’t like flat-out complaining and often arranges discipline for those who indulge in it, as we go through our days and months struggling with challenges and inequalities making a few sound effects along the way, the Lord just might be saying, “That’s all fine. It proves you’re still living and breathing.”

One thing I know for sure is that God is always glad to hear from us, whether it’s a squawk, a squeak, or a sensible prayer. Our every utterance is important to him, and there’s not a single noise he misses. Just as is true with Linnea, Adam, and their new baby, he loves us too much not to listen carefully, around the clock.

Little Autumn Faith has experienced a long list of radical changes from her world inside Linnea to her new world on the outside, a shock the likes of which won’t be equaled in her lifetime. So, freedom to do a bit of snorting and squealing is the least we can give her. And with God’s help, maybe her parents will soon be able to lie in bed without a smidgen of concern over her nighttime noises but instead be able to simply enjoy the music.

“It is good to praise the Lord and make music to your name, O Most High, proclaiming your love in the morning and your faithfulness at night.” (Psalm 92:1,2)