Why didn't I think of that?

Yesterday was a fussy day for poor Baby Micah. If his mother would stop poisoning him with milk and nuts then his life would be a lot easier, but alas, her brain has not been functioning at full capacity.
SO.... after a long fussy morning my brain was a bit numb yesterday as we drove home from school and Micah continued the cryfest. You can only twist around to reinsert the paci so many times before the neck and shoulder cramps set in. I had just decided that I couldn't do it anymore, that I really safely couldn't do anything, and that he'd just have to cry the rest of the way home.
Then I heard Mason. "God, please calm Baby Micah."

--immediate silence--

I literally held my breath for a few seconds, waiting for the crying to resume, but silence filled its place instead.
"O my goodness, Mason, God heard your prayer and he calmed baby Micah down! Isn't that amazing?!??!!"
Mason just beamed, very proud of himself for being such a good helper.
Why didn't I think of that? Why, when I am at the end of my rope, do I decide that I just can't do anything else and give up? Because prayer often doesn't feel like doing anything, and more often than not, the answers we get are not immediate. Maybe also because we assume the minute details of our day will not interest a Holy God. I forget that God is also our Abba, our Daddy. Just like my earthly daddy who was crying in the hospital delivery room to see me in pain, our heavenly Daddy feels our pain along with us, and wants to soothe our tears, wrap us up in His arms and offer tender comfort.
So we said Thank you Jesus as we kept driving and offered praise to the God Who Sees and Cares.