At that, Papa stood up and gathered the dishes to take into the kitchen.
Mack shook his head and looked up. “So, I don’t really understand reconciliation and I’m really scared of emotions. Is that about it?”
Papa didn’t answer immediately, but shook her head as she turned and walked away in the direction of the kitchen. Mack overheard her grunt and mutter, as if only to herself, “Men! Such idiots sometimes.”
He couldn’t believe it. “Did I hear God call me an idiot?” he called through the screen door.
He saw her shrug before disappearing around the corner, and then he heard her yell back in his direction, “If the shoe fits, honey. Yes sir, if the shoe fits…”
Mack laughed and sat back. He felt finished. His brain tank was more than full, as was his stomach. He carried the rest of the dishes to the kitchen and placed the stack on the counter, kissed Papa on the cheek, and headed for the back door.
14 VERBS AND OTHER FREEDOMS
God is a Verb.
– Buckminster Fuller
Mack stepped outside into the mid afternoon sun. He felt an odd mixture of being wrung out like a rag and yet exhilaratingly alive. What an incredible day this had been and it was barely half over. For a moment he stood undecided before wandering down to the lake. When he saw the canoes tied up to the dock, he knew it would probably forever be bittersweet, but the thought of taking one out on the lake energized him for the first time in years.
Untying the last one at the end of the dock, he gingerly slid into it and began paddling toward the other side. For the next couple of hours he circled the lake exploring its nooks and crannies. He found two rivers and a couple of creeks that either fed from above or emptied down toward the lower basins, and he discovered a perfect spot to drift and watch the waterfall. Alpine flowers blossomed everywhere, adding splashes of color to the landscape. This was the most calm and consistent sense of peace that Mack had felt in ages-if ever.
He even sang a few songs, a couple old hymns and a couple old folk songs, just because he wanted to. Singing was also something he had not done in a long time. Reaching back into the distant past, he began to voice the silly little song he used to sing to Kate: “K-K-K-Katie… beautiful Katie, You’re the only one that I adore…” He shook his head as he thought about his daughter, so tough but so fragile; he wondered how he might find a way to reach her heart. He was no longer surprised how easily tears could come to his eyes.
At one point he turned to watch eddies and whorls made by the oar blade and stern and when he turned back, Sarayu was sitting in the prow, looking at him. Her sudden presence made him jump.
“Geez!” he exclaimed. “You startled me.”
“I am sorry, Mackenzie,” she apologized, “but supper is almost ready and it is time to invite you to make your way back to the shack.”
“Have you been with me the entire time?” inquired Mack, a little ramped from the adrenaline rush.
“Of course. I am always with you.”
“Then how come I didn’t know it?” asked Mack. “Lately I’ve been able to tell when you’re around.”
“For you to know or not,” she explained, “has nothing at all to do with whether I am actually here or not. I am always with you; sometimes I want you to be aware in a special way-more intentional.”
Mack nodded that he understood and turned the canoe toward the distant shore and the shack. He now distinctly felt her presence in the tingle down his spine. They both smiled simultaneously.
“Will I always be able to see you or hear you like I do now, even if I’m back home?”
Sarayu smiled. “Mackenzie, you can always talk to me and I will always be with you, whether you sense my presence or not.”
“I know that now, but how will I hear you?”
“You will learn to hear my thoughts in yours, Mackenzie,” she reassured him.
“Will it be clear? What if I confuse you with another voice? What if I make mistakes?”
Sarayu laughed, the sound like tumbling water, only set to music. “Of course you will make mistakes; everybody makes mistakes, but you will begin to better recognize my voice as we continue to grow our relationship.”
“I don’t want to make mistakes,” Mack grunted.
“Oh, Mackenzie,” responded Sarayu, “mistakes are a part of life, and Papa works his purpose in them, too.” She was amused and Mack couldn’t help but grin back. He could see her point well enough.
“This is so different from everything I’ve known, Sarayu. Don’t get me wrong-I love what you all have given me this weekend. But I have no idea how I go back to my life. Somehow it seemed easier to live with God when I thought of him as the demanding taskmaster, or even to cope with the loneliness of The Great Sadness.”
“You think so?” she asked. “Really?”
“At least then I seemed to have things under control.”
“Seemed is the right word. What did it get you? The Great Sadness and more pain than you could bear, pain that spilled over even on those you care for the most.”
“According to Papa that’s because I’m scared of emotions,” he disclosed.
Sarayu laughed out loud. “I thought that little interchange was hilarious.”
“I am afraid of emotions,” Mack admitted, a bit perturbed that she seemed to make light of it. “I don’t like how they feel. I’ve hurt others with them and I can’t trust them at all. Did you create all of them or only the good ones?”
“Mackenzie.” Sarayu seemed to rise up into the air. He still had a difficult time looking right at her, but with the late afternoon sun reflecting off the water, it was even worse. “Emotions are the colors of the soul; they are spectacular and incredible. When you don’t feel, the world becomes dull and colorless. Just think how The Great Sadness reduced the range of color in your life down to monotones and flat grays and blacks.”
“So help me understand them,” pleaded Mack.
“Not much to understand, actually. They just are. They are neither bad nor good; they just exist. Here is something that will help you sort this out in your mind, Mackenzie. Paradigms power perception and perceptions power emotions. Most emotions are responses to perception-what you think is true about a given situation. If your perception is false, then your emotional response to it will be false too. So check your perceptions, and beyond that check the truthfulness of your paradigms-what you believe. Just because you believe something firmly doesn’t make it true. Be willing to reexamine what you believe. The more you live in the truth, the more your emotions will help you see clearly. But even then, you don’t want to trust them more than me.”
Mack allowed his oar to turn in his hands as he let it play in the water’s movements. “It feels like living out of relationship-you know, trusting and talking to you-is a bit more complicated than just following rules.”
“What rules are those, Mackenzie?”
“You know, all the things the Scriptures tell us we should do.”
“Okay…” she said with some hesitation. “And what might those be?”
“You know,” he answered sarcastically. “About doing good things and avoiding evil, being kind to the poor, reading your Bible, praying, and going to church. Things like that.”
“I see. And how is that working for you?”
He laughed. “Well, I’ve never done it very well. I have moments that aren’t too bad, but there’s always something I’m struggling with, or feeling guilty about. I just figured I needed to try harder, but I find it difficult to sustain that motivation.”