Friday, October 10, 2014 “I can,” he said, “I can again.” “Taste, that is,” he went on. Daniel, one of our kids in love was coming home from work on a rig ‘way out there the week before a series of tests at Oschner’s in New Orleans. The tests came out good His diagnosis, similar to mine, had a ‘primary’ on the back and down side of the tongue, and the chances to taste again were very limited.* You put food in mouth, begin to chew, and taste happens. We take it for granted, but how much it adds to our lives! If you stop and think about it, it’s actually spiritual. You put food, and in moments have a certain taste. What makes it all happen? Oh, they can tell you all the parts that have to work, the great concert required, the amazing complexity of taste, but what makes it taste like it does—who can tell it? Like swallowing and digesting, like breathing and seeing—no ‘complexity there, huh?—like putting thumb and forefinger together to pick up a fork or something else, we coast along using our wonderfully and fearfully made selves without so much as a thought of how much blessing the everyday and ordinary truly is. Listen to this summary review of Dr. Paul Brand’s book Fearfully and Wonderfully Made: “Mysterious, intricate, pulsing with energy…the human body is an endlessly fascinating repository of secrets. The miracle of the skin, the strength and structure of the bones, the dynamic balance of the muscles…your physical being is knit according to a pattern of incredible purpose…” If one ever really looks deeply into the total amazement of all that we are, it seems difficult to me not to want to either stand and raise hands toward the heavens, or get down on your knees in an act of response and praise. At least, take a deep breath-- (think of what that involves!) and give thanks. It’s when we’re sick that we ‘don’t work right’. It’s when what has always been-- is changed. It’s when after chemo, suddenly food becomes unimportant, and when taste goes—that whole wonder of seeking, finding, and sharing food is lost to us. Daniel, mentioned above, had to have a tummy tube for a while. When we visited with he and his wife Anne, he told us, “When you pour your food into this thing, eating is a mere necessity, never something to enjoy.” Think about it. Think about that. Claim your healthy moment. Give thanks for every wonderful working part of your amazing being. Those who suffer limitations know what’s lost. Those who are well and strong often overlook health and assume all will be as it has been. A guy dear to us hurt his hand in an accident in the cabinet-making shop where he worked. A usually careful and able person, but one slip of attention and machine, and a serious accident happens. Even after several surgeries and much rehabilitation, the once unlimited motion and ability of that hand is now compromised. (Make a fist, flex your fingers, pick up something, thank God!) John O’Keefe has recently been awarded the Nobel Prize for physiology.** His area of interest and work? The cells in the brain which allow us to know where we are. Our inner GPS system includes actions, reactions, interactions, connections, and a much more than we know now, or probably will ever know. One of the big prizes in science given for work in a part of a part of a whole that defies description, the human brain. All too often what we take for granted is not appreciated until a tragic disease like Alzheimers take it away from us. All this, because I’m here at home, computer before me, with a handful of honey roasted peanuts. I’m tasting! Again! Then I think, I need to write about Daniel and taste, and the absolute wonder of who we are and all we have been given. “O taste and see…” (Psalm 34:8) If we did, we just might ‘see’ more than we’ve ever seen before… Always love, always, Keith *Look sometime at a picture of the human tongue. There’s more of it than we usually think!! **I only heard this on the radio today coming home from the church. If the name is not correct, the gist of the announcement is.
Posted on: Fri, 10 Oct 2014 11:35:55 +0000