GENDUSA COLUMN: Blessings of the unexplainable
Published 10:30 am Wednesday, February 15, 2023
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Yes, siree, I have concluded there are ghosts in my office! They could also be angels, or it could be that the Lord and his helpers enjoy teasing me. Still trying to figure out who or what they are, but I hope they visit often. As plain old humans, we tend to ignore events or things we can’t explain out of fear or disbelief. Some believe they are too intelligent for such foolishness but thinking too highly of oneself clouds the mind causing them to never notice the extraordinary, out-of-the-box events. Shoot, they must be downright bored!
Several weeks ago, I began writing my Valentine’s Day column. Holidays often require extra attention and early submission to various news outlets. Once I finished the piece, I thought I should add a quote or a Bible verse. I began searching the internet for one that suited my column about love. After reading way, way too many, I finally found one that seemed perfect.
After including it, I searched for more information about the author and how to address him as a novelist, poet, etc. The thought-provoking quote was by Henry Miller, an American novelist who lived from 1896 to 1980. To my utter amazement, His middle name was (I am serious) …. Valentine.
How many of us simply believe these occurrences are merely coincidences? We file them away in a folder labeled “Unexplainable.” We shouldn’t stow such sweet mysteries away but consider them gifts.
Perhaps they remind us that we are not supposed to understand all things but rely on God and his ways to provide the answers. Miracles still occur, and clues of life eternal are presented to us all the time. Do we need to remove the clouds from our minds so we can see them distinctly?
Many say that children witness things we cannot. An imaginary friend to keep them company or the ability to be more in touch with the soul than the body. I agree with all of that because I remember as a small child when I was touched by an angel or someone else.
I stayed with my paternal grandmother, Rose, for a few days and woke in the night with a severe asthma attack. She carried me downstairs and held me in her rocking chair, humming a hymn as we rocked back and forth in darkness. I recall being completely frightened because the attack was the worst I had experienced. I saw a beam cut through the dark, and within the light, I heard a soothing voice, ”You will be fine, don’t be afraid.”
“Granny Rose, did you see that light?” I asked.
She looked around the room but saw nothing but the night.
A child’s mind is not filled with the head of clutter that causes adults to lose their spiritual vision.
Years later, when Rose became severely ill, a caretaker stayed with her in the evenings. One morning the nurse walked into Rose’s room and saw that my grandmother was in her Sunday dress, and her hat and gloves were laying neatly on the bed.
“Miss Rose, what are you doing, and where are you going!?” The nurse urgently questioned. She was utterly shocked that her bedridden patient was up and dressed.
“I have somewhere special to go today and need to be dressed in my church clothes,” Rose responded.
Within minutes, my grandmother lay on the bed in her finest clothes and went to the church in Heaven.
These are the reminders that we are never alone, never forgotten, and that if we are wise, we will understand the blessings of the unexplainable.
Today, it is surprising at the folks who swarm around conspiracy-based theories. Oh, man, some believe the wackiest things, yet they often don’t accept the goodness of a miracle or the healing power of hope.
Some of us, like me, have never forgotten the child within. I decided long, long ago to not let her go. I wanted to still see the light in the darkened room and hear the whispers whirling in the air. I must keep believing in the unexplainable and delightful.
The ghosts in my office are here to remind me to glimpse the invisible and enjoy the oft-funny antics of God and his mysteries. How silly we are to replace such glee with simple-minded grown-up foolishness.
So, Mr. Henry Valentine Miller, thank you for visiting and helping finish my column. And, most of all, thank you, Lord, for if I didn’t believe, I could not clearly see you and all you do.
“God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea and rides upon the storm.” William Cowper, English poet, and hymnist.