Gratefulness Trumps Smell

I was lamenting the ails of the aged yesterday one of which was the loss of the sensitivity of ones senses.  As we age we cannot see, hear, feel smell or taste as well.  I was sitting by the river and longed to smell the richness of it like I could before and now can only on occasion.  As I considered it I became aware of how much more grateful I had become for the rewards of my senses, the rich smells and tastes that were so common in my youth and are less frequent today.  I have less sense sensitivity but more gratefulness and it dawned on me…I had come out the richer.   

Our Own And Ancient Parlor

We sat beside a primeval stream yesterday, buried in the hard earth and ancient trees of the Appalachia.  We are a family of Tennessee, older than the state, birthed in the green hills of Scotland, sailed to North Carolina and then drawn eastward to scratch out a life in the Appalachian Mountains.  Our family has tramped these hills as long as white people have tramped them.  Only the early man, the red skinned man, the deer slayers and quiet runners have been in these hills longer than the Bensons.  When we spread our fair along the bank and take our afternoon leisure we are sitting down in our own and ancient parlor.

The Best Human He Could Be

Monday I was taking my daughter to the hospital for her last round of chemo.  As we entered the hospital a middle age man was walking toward us.  He was duck walking with his pants pulled high and his hips jutting forward with the look of a very special person.  I smiled to myself and nudged my daughter.  Just as we were about to pass him he held up both hands and loudly asked, “RRR UUUU HAVE INNG AAA PRO CEEED URRR?  I just had a pro ceeed urrr!!!  I hope YOURRR PRO CEEEED URRR GOES GUUUD!”  We both smiled and I said “thank you sir” as he shuffled off paying me no mind.  I told my daughter we had probably just met and Angel and he was being the best human he could be, he was a great angel but he just hadn’t nailed down human.  I imagine he is both amused and disappointed at his abilities but he did deliver God’s message.  

I Was In The Cave

I sat on my porch this morning in the dark grey of pre-dawn as the river was just coming into view.  I saw a large heron fly by and watched amazed at its gentle gracefulness gliding above the water.  Suddenly I realized I was watching its reflection on the river.  The real heron matched the dark background of the mountains across the way and was invisible to me.  I was shocked for a moment because I was sure I was seeing the real thing when I was only seeing the reflection of the real thing.  Now I know about Plato’s cave but what made me think about it this morning was that for a moment I had found myself in the cave and would have been completely content inside my show of errors.  Life has handed me so many beautiful things including the tree in this blog.  I remember seeing the tree for the first time and believing it was the most perfectly beautiful tree I had ever seen.  I thought about that tree this morning and wondered if it too were only a reflection, a mere error of consciousness, a sorrowful and fraudulent fake…and for the first time I think I understood fully the verse, “For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.”  God is so evident in nature and when nature is most beautiful God is most evident, but only as a reflection, a sense of the real.  Only in Christ has our senses known the real to be The Real and in that moment we want Him, not only as our Savior, but as our Lord.

From Where My Blessings Flow

I sit atop UT Medical center, 12^th floor, its highest, overlooking The Great Tennessee River and The University of Tennessee.  I can pick out Neyland and the art building.  My daughter is sound asleep in her bed, the pole nearby all hard wired with boxes and boxes of technology to administer the magical mystery fluid. The nurse just walked in, Erin from Onita, country as Billy from the hills, her accent settles on me like mayonnaise on a tomato sandwich.  I love her automatically even though she woke my baby to take vitals she took just two hours ago.  She, like everything else, makes me feel like my daughter is in the very best place.   She leaves, my daughter turns over and is immediately back to sleep and all is quite as I sit and again begin to count my blessings.  

    

Preferring My Hallucinations

I sat with a fog this morning as it was huddled between the hills and atop the river.  It was grey and quite like a convalescing relative.  And then I had a hallucination.  Out across the river toward the southeast, the fog began to glow like a golden son of man and lit up the river like the heart of the old relative had received a healing promise.  I looked at it and realized it was a thin slice of fog that had allowed the sun above to shine through.  I was sincerely sorrowful for my rational intelligence for I would have rather lived with my hallucinations for a while longer.   

Dedicated To The Proposition

The government was not, is not and can never be the answer to the issues that face America.  Everyday well meaning, average Americans, on social media, push a political party as either the answer or the cause of our problems.  The answer to our problems is and will always be your neighbor.  It has always been the foundational proposition of America that we all agree to be good, to get along, to take care of one another, to settle our differences and to be peaceful, thoughtful and kind to each other.  America was established in a time when your neighbor was not only your friend but your alley and the first one you turned to when you needed help, be it a cup of sugar or building your barn.  That is why we chose our first name, United.  It is still the only way in which the proposition of a United States of America can stand indivisible.