Just Thinking out Loud.

May 25, 2011 Tuesday

It was light this early morning, so I decided to mow the lawn. The electric mower is so quiet I did not disturb the neighbors, if I have any. Then I fertilized the grass and watered. By 9AM I decided to remove the mulch from the courtyard and water the plants. In between a friend came by and we talked of things in the Kingdom. It was a good visit and we were refreshed. Then back to removing the mulch, bag after bag. But during this go around, I began meditating on a piece of our discussion. It became more in my mind, growing in meaning, as I continued to reflect upon it, bag after bag. 

It is no secret that the human being receives information through the senses of the body—eyes, ears, touch, sound, and smell. If not for the senses, we would be tossed into outer darkness (perhaps that is what hell is).

I think I love Emmie through my eyes, because she is a such a beauty—her fresh little face, her sparkling eyes, her mischievous grin. But then I also love her through my ears, the quality of her voice, the incredible way she says "Grandma" and her use of language that is far beyond her years.  I also love her through touch, the way she crawls into my lap, or Grandpa's lap so effortlessly, as if we were chairs. 

I hear that widows do the same thing. That when they miss their mate they miss the total person, his or her voice, touch, sight, smell, and sound. We take in people and life with our five senses. That's a total experience and all of these things addict us to their being if they are "on the mark." Hans always said he fell in love with my voice. I had a friend who has a lovely voice and when we were looking for houses and calling real estate agents I always had her do the calling. They were lulled into submission by the quality of it.  I fell in love with Hans' profile, this has been my way since a child. Every boy I ever liked, had a similar profile. Sight was important to me. But that was just a part of it. I also loved his voice, and his touch, so gentle. I knew that these are the things I would lose when he died. I didn't know how to keep those things alive. If I had them, I thought, I could endure the year of grieving. I have heard of widows going into the mate's closet and just smelling the air, the clothes and being immensely comforted. 

It was this way for me a week ago. I found a small digital recorder that I bought the last year of his life. As we traveled or sat in the backyard, I would interview him, or provoke him with a piece of Scripture. I listened to these nine or ten recordings last week. I spent the day with the recorder, just listening to his voice. The pauses, the reflection or intonation, his slight Dutch accent and my own. I sounded so peaceful and happy, poking fun at his stogy old self. I was a little bit better. I have not gone into his closet. I cannot bear it yet, though I have moved into his office and put all his hats in a case.  When I have another down day, I will enter the closet. Perhaps if there is anything that made me feel secure and safe it was his odor, his peculiar fragrance that I inhaled every day. And every day it spoke to me, that life was not only ok, but great! And so it is a huge loss for me. His fragrance still fills the closet but I cannot go near there yet. It would set me back and pull off the emerging cover of my wound. 

But my meditation didn't end with Hans. This morning's discussion had to do with church life.  I noticed it pretty much uses only one gate to the soul. The ear. We listen to the sermon, we listen to the worship, we listen to the words of the songs, we listen to Christian radio. Perhaps many of us can enjoy the sounds of other voices or our own.  But there are four other gates missing. This weekend I went to church on Saturday and Sunday and "experienced" church. I took it in with all five senses. But some were disappointing. My sniffer was dismissed. The eye was displeased or vacant. It had nothing to look at.  How can I have a total experience when all there is ....is listening. We have motion, smells, lights, sounds, bells and whistles some have called it. Even some small thing would have been appreciated. Church, let him who has an ear, hear. 

How can we learn to open these other gates? What can we do to enhance our experience of God through them? Well, just thinking out loud.