At this writing (just after Memorial Day), Bob has braved getting up at 4AM, driving me through an impressive Midwest lightening storm and torrential downpour two hours north to the Kansas City International Airport, dropping me off so I could catch a flight to see my dear parents a few states away. I informed him that I’m a big girl and would be perfectly fine doing this on my own. But no, chivalry is not dead in my household, and I’m not nearly “progressive” enough to rock that boat. Add to that the fact that my husband is nocturnal by nature, and getting up at 4AM is generally only a few hours after when he might be coming to bed anyway.
Yeah, I pick a good one.
But he is a cautious animal at that, which means here I sit with a couple hours to spare. Even the airport isn’t quite fully awake, which is honestly one of the things I like about the Midwest.
I’m not really much of a people-watcher, but it’s kinda hard not to do it in an airport. We’re all just squished together in one mass of humanity, hoping that no bombs get though on anyone’s shoes or hairspray bottles, hoping that the toddler sitting behind us sleeps the whole time, wondering if “they” will be there to meet us at the other end.
Or if the peanuts will be too salty this time. Whatever.
As I sip my tea and read my Bible, and look out on, oh, so many people, I connect with these words of Jesus:
At first, these words may seem intimidating. Actually, as a disciple of Jesus, they are meant to be comforting. Bob said, just this morning on the way to the airport in fact, that I was probably quite introspective as a child. The challenge was, as my father told me back then, philosophically “you’re trying to do calculus before you understand algebra!” (You can see where I get my penchant for analogous reasoning….)
Because I have a deep seated need to understand, that is, to understand myself. Similarly, there are secret places—some treasures, some not so much—buried in each of us, all of which need to be exposed—some to be utilized, some to be healed. However, and this is important, none of this can be accomplished without the proper exposure first.
Which comes to the next part of Jesus’ comment:
I find this intriguing. He’s not so interested in how we are informed; no, that comes in all sorts of ways, many of them unpleasant, (can I get a witness?) It’s not the the mode of information that’s critical, it’s how I process it, how I “hear” it:
Okay, my dad is a retired Purdue mechanical engineer, and my brother is a chip off the old block. Jim has spent many years specializing in industrial containment, and could talk ad infinitum about filtering and micro-particles, et. al. Not my area, but suffice it to say that how you filter something is critical to the purity and usefulness of the final product.
Easy segway: only through the infinite love of our Creator Father can we proper “hear” the secrets of our hearts—the good and bad—so that we can process and produce all that we have been created to be. Not only for ourselves, but for others. Not only for now, but for eternity.
Okay. Time to go catch my flight and see my folks! (How much you wanna bet Bob takes a nap today?)
Luke 8:16-18 Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.