Scrolls of Remembrance

My family rolls their collective eyes when I feel the need to burp loudly. It’s almost always unexpected. “Good heavens, Rusty, do you gulp your food?” I’ve heard it my whole life.Perhaps I do, but I always say, “Excuse me!” I hardly notice anymore. I know it’s not one of my most endearing features.

And when I mow the lawn, I’m lost in a world unto myself. All distractions are drowned by the roar of the mighty Toro, the smell of cut grass and the warmth of the sun on my neck. Marching up and down the yard somehow dislodges my inner thoughts, and in the anonymity of yard noise, I sometimes voice aloud my thoughts.

So, marching the lawn often dislodges more than thoughts these summer days, and when the urge arrives, I let it rip. It feels like an accomplishment to hear it over the mower. I know, it’s weird, it’s a Rusty self-disclosure that I’m not encouraging, but who even cares?

I was in the weekly routine and caught in my thoughts, as usual. I was remembering a conversation that week, one that was very encouraging. A medical procedure was needed, and a lack of resource prevented it. After a season of prayer, out of the blue, an unexpected cash gift came, convincing my friend that he wasn’t alone. And at that thought, I let out a “Thank you Lord!” as I pushed the mower up the yard. I often pop out grateful phrases when I feel them rise on my inside, it kind of feels like a punctuation mark at the end of a
good statement.

When I’m mowing, I say them louder.

Having finished the yard, I was surveying my handiwork when I saw my neighbor. He was sitting in a chair in the shade of his tree, feet propped up, with a glass of tea in one hand and a paper in his lap. We saw each other and he welcomed me over with a wave and a smile. Relaxing in his shade, we began to talk how much we enjoy freshly cut lawns. “Yep, I really love the straight lines, makes me feel like everything is in order, if only for a moment.” We both laugh at how jumbled things feel sometimes. I say, “I get some my best thinking and praying done walking back and forth in the yard.”

He looked over his glasses, smiling at me. “Oh, is that what you call it?” 

A little puzzled, I said, “Yes, indeed, I kind of work things out on my inside.” 

He chuckled. “Yep, I can hear you sometimes.”

“What? Really?” I asked. 

You know how your voice carries across a lake when you’re out in canoe? Well, apparently, something similar happens over the roar of a lawnmower, especially when listening from a quiet place. Raised voices carry, even over mowers and chainsaws, both of which frequent my backyard. 

“Oh yeah?” I said. “What did you hear? I do sometimes talk when I mow.”

“I had to laugh a couple times,” he said.

“Why is that?” I asked. 

“Well, I heard you belch loudly a little bit ago followed by, 'Thank you Lord!'"  

“What? You heard me burp?” That was a shock.

“Oh yes,” he said. “It’s pretty loud.” 

“Wow.” I didn’t know if I should be proud or embarrassed.

I smiled, saying, “Oops, sorry about that. When I'm outside I just let it rip. I get shushed inside, but when I’m out here, just me and God—well, you know.” We both had a good laugh and went on talking about other things.

I've heard it said that communication is not so much what people say, but what people hear and understand. What my neighbor didn't hear was the conversation, the thoughts, the prayers I was living with on my inside. I was caught up in my moment of thanksgiving when that forgettable belch arrived, and the rest is my neighbor’s story now. 

Do you ever think about God listening in on your conversations? I mean, we expect him to when we’re praying, but what about at all other times? I imagine God enjoying the free flow of thanks and thoughts, right down to the burps.

I’m especially fond of this passage of scripture, (Malachi 3:16-18) in light of His interaction with me. “And when those who revered the Lord, talked with one another, the Lord listened in and heard and a scroll of remembrance was written down in His presence concerning those who honored His name.”  

Did you know that you say and think noteworthy things about God? Things He’s remembering and recording? If your thoughts go quickly to shame or embarrassment, then you don’t yet have a true image of your Father.

Listen further to what He said in Malachi:  “They will be mine, says the Lord of hosts, in that day when I come, they will be my treasured possessions, I will treat them as a father does his son, who serves him.”

I wonder if God is remembering, recording such things for our benefit, rather than His. If the truest things are captured when no one is looking, I’m glad God is out to “catch” us doing good rather than evil. It will be proof in that day that we really do love Him. I wonder what He’s scribing today, don’t you?