What the Heart Sees

 

 There's a story (I wish I remembered the source so I could cite it) of the grand unveiling of one of the first computer programs that could translate from one language to another.  All the important business investors and CEOs were present for the media presentation.  Of course a demonstration of the program's capabilities was in order.  

To help convince everyone of the legitimacy of the test, the moderator asked the gathered crowd for a random phrase in English.  "Out of side out of mind", someone said from the back.  The phrase was typed into the computer.  Then the moderator asked for someone to choose a language into which this phrase would be translated.  "Japanese", someone said, wanting to give the program what they hoped was a rigorous challenge.

The person at the keyboard hit all the right buttons, and instantaneously on the demo screen there appeared some Japanese characters.  Everyone was impressed with the speed.  But they realized there were no Japanese speaking folks among them to verify.  So they typed the characters back into the program and hit all the buttons again.

What came up in English was "Invisible Idiot."

While this story is an amusing reminder of the nuances of language, translation and culture, it also speaks to me of that mystic sense of things made more true because they are unseen.

Evelyn's Candle

Just one example?

All the beloveds who aren't with us this Christmas.

I guess it's true that there are some things, maybe even people, we don't think too much about if they aren't physically present with us.  But when the heart has locked onto love, there is no un-seeing of the object of that love.  

We lost a baby granddaughter in May of 2019.  This will be our second Christmas being a family in that oxymoronic space of feeling her presence all the more acutely because of her absence.  "Out of sight, out of mind" seems not only altogether untrue, but completely impossible.  But maybe that's because she's not really 'out of sight' at all.  

Our hearts see her everywhere.

This bridges for me into how I'm experiencing almost all of my human connections this year.  Coming upon Christmas, I'm even more aware of the deep and beautiful relationships I have because of the fact I can't actually 'be with' them right now.

The blood family we won't eat with over the holidays.

The Thai family oh so far away for oh so many months now.

The faith family who isn't gathering, even on Christmas Eve.

"Out of sight, out of mind?"  Are you kidding me!!??

(pause to compose myself)

And here's another way this all comes together for me.

All the folks who are physically 'alone' this year?  You're not.

Okay, reality check here.  This blog goes out into cyberspace and in the off chance someone reading this doesn't know me or isn't connected to any community of faith or any community at all?  Yeah, I don't know about that.  I can't really speak into that.  My heart aches for you, and I'd so encourage you to look up a local small church pastor.  Or you can look me up at hcckw.ca and we can have a chat.  

But the rest of you?  Those who are part of my orbits, physically alone or not?  I see you.  I can't stop thinking about you.  And I think I can confidently speak for the collective of grace and love that exists as Highview when I say, we've got you covered.

There are many ways this grace and love is translating into something concrete in these weeks before Christmas.

Coffee runs.

Caroling with sparklers.

Meals.

Rides.

Little packets delivered.

Cards mailed.

And oh so many words written and sent and spoken and delivered.

But even in the absence of any of that... You. Are. Seen.

Just as surely as your own heart is 'seeing' anyone it's locked on in love.

And if you believe you are 'invisible' to the hearts of those who love you, 

then you are (I say this gently) an idiot.

Even so, we're all only human after all.

And therefore, I invite you to commit with me to an extravagance of connection this Christmas.

To the degree that you are able (because we need to respect our human limitations for sure), let's determine together to reach out and connect to as many other seen-and-seeing-hearts as we can between now and Christmas Day.  Or even afterwards.  No need to stop on the 25th.

It could be as simple as sending an email or Facebook message that just says, "I see you."  

If someone we know will be physically alone on Christmas Day, maybe arrange for a phone call and a quick prayer (yes, we can pray over the phone, it's fun!).

Or other ideas, like I've mentioned already.

And I'll repeat the invitation.  Anyone needing a chat or a way of connecting, contact me through hcckw.ca.  

What a strange Christmas.

But already, so many delightful surprises.

Twelve Days to Christmas.

Hey, that reminds me of a song!

(And just for fun:

I will give out a chocolate bar to anyone who can identify the reference of this last sentence.)