The secret prayers of babies
Airtravel, quiet places, and big feelings
I’ve noticed a strange moment that happens once a plane is in the air. A calm falls over everyone once all the scurry and scramble of boarding the plane is done. Luggage has been loaded into those impossibly small overhead spaces. We’re buckled. We’re settled and seated closely to complete strangers.
Headphones are in. The hum of the engines has lulled many to sleep. A hush falls over the plane.
Except …
A baby cries.
The caregiver tries to soothe. Still, the baby cries.
Years ago while flying with our crying little ones, I remember kind seatmates offering sympathetic glances— a gift to weary parents. I also remember the grumbles, side-eyes, and well-meaning suggestions of others. “Have you tried…”
Yes. Yes, we have tried.
Similar moments happen in a variety of other settings.
The stage is set for an important speech and quiet is drowned out by a crying baby.
A group of congregants have gathered to pray and a quiet washes over the room.
It’s as if every baby in the room knows the cue. With the words, “Let’s pray,” a vibrant, secret world of babies comes to life. They must rise up and disrupt the silence.
Like locusts, the babies emerge. While grown-up eyes are shut, theirs go wide open. This is their time to shine. The big people have gone quiet and the silent void must be filled with greetings, grunts, and grievances.
A baby in the back squeals. He has called the meeting to order.
One small baby in the front responds. She has co-signed.
(The babies follow Robert’s Rules of Order.)
The secret gathering is now well underway. It might sound like mindless babbles to us, but there’s important things happening. You can tell because every other baby has now joined in. They have received the transmission loud and clear.
The auditorium, plane, church, or otherwise quiet public gathering space has now been fully taken over. A grunty little guy really brings the conversation to life. His input causes another to raise her fist in a mixture of agreement and disgust. Maybe it’s disgust? I can’t quite tell.
What are they saying? Why must they say it right now? Don’t they know all we’re trying to: travel in peace/hear the show/have a meaningful conversation/sit in peace/assemble to pray?
I’ve been wondering if maybe they do know. This is them just joining in.
The ear-piercing shouts, little coos, ga-gas, and tears are contributions. They too have gathered, as travelers in this strange world, longing to connect, experience peace, and maybe even to pray:
I’m hungry.
I’m hurting.
I’m wrestling with the inexplicable wonder of being a living, breathing human being on this planet right now and I don’t know how else to say it.
I’m scared.
I want to be held.
I know the pain of trying something and failing at it and I’m tired and I want a snack and a nap.
Little ones with big things to cry out. Not so different from those big things little ole me cries out from time to time. The vocabulary is different, but the prayers might be the same.
I’m traveling this week. Writing this from a hotel room. Soon, I will settle in for my return flight home.
At the time of your reading this, I might just be in the air.
The plane will be hitting that special altitude where all is quiet.
A loud cry will wake me.
I’ll realize it’s a baby praying.
I’ll join them.
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Hi Brad. Just moved to Atlanta, sitting in a Starbucks, reading The Secret Prayers of Babies, and I felt my face glowing. You are wonderful at bringing us these moments of mindfulness. I'm always reminded of the Ton Morrison quote, "When a child walks in the room, your child or anybody else's child, do your eyes light up? That's what they're looking for." Grateful for you. Blessings, Steve
Wow - what a life-changing perspective this is for me! When sirens scream down our Main Street, it seems like all of the dogs in the neighborhood respond with howls and barks. From now 0n, 9’m going to see this as their prayers, as well. Thank you!