Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Ad libitum

Note:  Ad libitum is often translated "at one's pleasure" or "at liberty" or "freely".

I had a conversation with a friend the other evening and she made the comment that as humans we like order, which led us to a discussion about how God never seems to do the same thing twice.  I would like to take you on a wandering journey now, which may seem random, but in reality, this is what it's about--ad libitum.  I have told you this ahead of time, because if you are at all like me, you want to know where we are going before we leave. 

I have learned a lot about myself over the years by observing my children.  One thing I have learned is that I appreciate "order" especially as it pertains to planning my day.  One of my favorite memories of Laura is that of her little 18-month-old self at my 23rd birthday party.  Mom had bought her a present as well, so that she would have something to open (very smart Grandma!!).  I believe it was a little stuffed toy.  Laura tore the paper off, opened the box, played with the little stuffed toy and when she was done, she put it back in the box and tried to put the paper back on.  Apparently, it was supposed to be in the box, wrapped up.  That's where it lived, that's where "away" was.  I cannot tell you how many Breyer boxes we brought home from birthdays and Christmases over the years because things came in a box and so they belonged in the box when we were done!  As I sit here typing, on the shelves above me (the last vestiges of when Laura used to occupy this room) are several Breyer boxes, with models inside. When she was a preschooler, she would order her day and woe to me if I brought something unexpected into it!  I learned very quickly to give her a run-down at the beginning of the day of the things I planned to do that included her, and then I dare not change that!   A simple thing like going to the grocery store had to be planned for.  My child liked order. 

My son is the same way.  I guess I am as well.  I roll a little better with the punches now that I am older, but I suspect, in my younger years, I was very much like they are. 

I don't know if everyone is that way.  I suspect we all are to some degree.  This brings me back to my discussion with my friend.  In our walks with God, we would very much like it if He would say to us.  "Okay, here is today's agenda" or even "In the next few years, these things are going to happen.  This is what I intend for the end result to be."  but God doesn't seem to work that way in our lives.  Life with God is a wandering ramble.  He doesn't hand us a syllabus so we can pace ourselves, or read ahead when we have extra time or energy,or set aside study time for the midterms and tests He has planned for us.  

When I was in college, I spent a couple years working for this ancient dairyman. (Okay, to my 20-year-old self he was ancient, but he was really only in his 60s.)  He used to write me out a list of what needed to be done, so when I got to the barn, I could just look at the list and get started.  But there were times when my list intersected with his list for himself, like when we would haul heifers out to some location or he needed me to guard a gate when he was cleaning out an occupied pen with the tractor, or when we needed to get a load of hay.  These were often special times, because he was so full of knowledge about everything.  He knew the calls of every bird, their habits, their looks.  He knew every plant that grew in the area, what it was good for, and what the Indians had used it for.  He knew what the land looked like a hundred years ago and where it used to flood and where buildings used to stand, which had long since been torn down.  But I always had my list in the back of my head, and I was 20 years old, and so I tended to listen, but also keep him on task.  As time went on, I got better about listening and letting myself get taken off task.  What he knew, and what I'm still learning, is that life is about relationships and relationships take time.  

It is with great fondness that I remember our walks through the fields, where he would touch my arm and put his finger to his lips and whisper, "listen" and there would be some bird whistling, or we were approaching a china pheasant that I had not seen, or he would direct my attention to a plant growing over there.  And when I think about life and my walk with God, I am reminded of my time with the old farmer.  Often God will say, "Let's head in this direction," and my mind will look that way and see what's in the distance and think, "Aha, a destination".  But really, we aren't headed to the end of that road, there is just an interesting flower that God wants me to see, or a china rooster hidden in the tall grass.  Life with God is a meandering walk through His creation.  He has a lot to teach us.  We don't need to know the plan, the syllabus, the time-table, even the stops on the road.  We only need to hold His hand and pay attention, because life is about the relationship, not the destination. 

Monday, October 29, 2012

On Voices

When someone dies, if we do not have a picture of them to remind us what they looked like, our vision of them fades; but quite often we can still hear their voice.  I can still hear my brother singing, I can still hear his laugh, I can still hear his shy "Aww" with all its sing-song, gravelly inflections, when someone gave him praise or a hug.  I was pondering this when it occurred to me that we probably develop hearing long before we develop vision.  When I was pregnant with my daughter, I lived with my parents.  When my daughter was about 8 hours old, her grandma held her and talked to her and their eyes met, and my daughter gazed into her eyes and listened to her for nearly half an hour.  This is the voice she had heard for months before she was born.  Once it was muffled, but now it was clear.  

I was at a memorial service today and the voice of the man behind me was so rich and full and it was pure pleasure to listen to him.  I have heard voices that are  not so pleasant to listen to.  I wonder what makes a voice pleasant or not.  I wonder if all voices can be pleasant if used in a loving way--and I wondered if this man's voice could be unpleasant if he were angry and yelling.

As I was pondering his voice, and why it made me feel so wonderful, there was a reading from the gospel of John.  "...and the sheep follow him because they know his voice..."  I thought about how lovely the voices of the people I love are to me; how when I hear Laura's "Hi" when she comes in the front door I cannot help but smile or I hear my dad say, "Hi, Jode," how I feel all safe inside. I remember when Gary and I were engaged, how I would listen for his voice and get all giddy inside when I heard it.  In the Song of Songs, Lover says to his Beloved, "Let me hear your voice."   In Psalm 55, "Morning, evening and noon I cry out and he hears my voice."

Not only do we recognize our shepherd's voice, but he recognizes our voices.  The shepherd knows his sheep by voice.  Each voice is unique and he knows us by voice.

~~~

Listen! My lover!
    Look! Here he comes,
leaping across the mountains,
    bounding over the hills.

I listen intently for His voice.  He calls me by a name He has given me, which no one else knows.   My heart rejoices at the sound of His voice.  I long to hear Him singing as He goes about His work.  I will run to His side and hold Him, and never let Him go.

His voice pierces my heart.