Pilgrim's Progress is definitely a journey...
The Noise
Theology in the Trenches
by Kathleen Kjolhaug
I
didn’t know it would be this hard. In fact, I didn’t realize it was hard at all
until…until I heard the noise.
The
comings and goings, the ages and stages are natural progressions leading up to the
empty nest. It’s been empty for quite some time now, but every so oft, in the
quiet of night, there is noise…perhaps not much…but enough to remember.
A
shuffle echoes delightfully into the corners of plastered walls from someone
making their way to the stairway. Steps creak as feet patter upon them playing
like the top ten from another era. Door quietly shutting out hallway light as bed
is sought for rest acts as a reminder of days gone by. For those “just passing through,” the farm provides
shelter. Not even doggy perks as familiar noises play at odd hours.
Others are in
the house
is the tune played. Someone has come home because it is just that…home. Or
perhaps word has gotten out that there is an empty bed or two or three at the
country inn. And when I hear the noise, I fall into deep slumber as comfort is
found from the reminiscent sound effects of days gone by.
As
bacon and scrambled eggs find their way to the table top...a specialty made by
the man of the house when his own come home…the scent wafts throughout. We
inhale the likes of coffee, grandpa’s maple syrup, and deer sausage hunted last
fall. The table of grace welcomes as it’s filled with those who contributed to
the midnight noise at the farm.
As
a new generation finds their way here, we are grateful. Grateful they can share
in the making of memories and the making of noise as they peer through the
windows of the farm…at the animals round and about. Cows, one horsey (their
term), doggy, and kitty are welcome noise makers as squeals of delight pour
forth when each one is spied. Knee high handprints stain windows and for the
life of me, I cannot stoop that low to smear them off. I love them. They remind
me of the noise which will hopefully return sooner than later.
Beds
are made, country flies swept up from wooden planks, and pillows fluffed as the
all too quiet farm awaits. Floorboards need a workout, and treetops which can
only be seen from second story heights waive their crests calling for admirers
to place themselves in perfect position to do just that…admire.
In
the mean time He says…“Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). And, as
I wait in the quiet, it is difficult. Being still does not come easy. Doer by
trade, fixer as mama I am. The desire to make noise momentarily stills. It
stills my heart and readies my soul for the next pilgrims passing through desiring
respite along the journey. For the memories that clamor amidst the quiet, I am
forever grateful. Amen.
Comments
Post a Comment
Thank you for praying attention to this space of grace. Your thoughts are sacred and most welcome...God bless your day.