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This morning I was struck by an interesting thought.
The house was still dark, but my son, who is still just a few months old, gets hungry, and he doesn't really notice what time it is. I got up, changed his diaper, and put him in his playpen temporarily so that I could rush off and relieve the pressure in my own bladder. While in the bathroom, I encountered a wild mouse that had been leaving his or her droppings in places they ought not to be, such as our larder and our son's play mat. So I killed the mouse. Some may object to this action, but that is beside the point of this essay. I was willing to endure the occasional nibbling on, and thus spoiling, our food containers and goodies within. I had been keen on doing the live capture thing and releasing him back to his natural habitat. But he was far too adept at avoiding my traps; he left me little choice when I had to consider things like bacteria and disease that could possibly be introduced to my helpless little boy. As I fed my son with formula, because my wife was sick in bed, I suddenly had a flash in my head of this passage: When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And I wondered... here he was: innocent of, and oblivious to, what just occurred in the bathroom. He had no idea how much I disliked having to kill a small furry creature. He had no idea about my thought processes in this regard, especially the part about making sure my son stayed safe from unclean and possibly dangerous exposure. He had no idea that there was potential danger, he had no idea that the danger was removed, he had no idea that there was remorse experienced during the process. All he knew was that he was being held by someone familiar, who made him feel safe and comfortable, and his uncomfortable feeling inside of him was going away because of this funny tasting stuff he was swallowing. I say funny tasting because I'm figuring that formula doesn't taste like mother's milk. Thus I realized there must indeed be things that go on behind the scenes, things I'm not aware of. I often assume that my awareness of being me and being alive allows me to perceive anything relevant that goes on around me. But unless my arrogance meter starts pushing too far into the red, I've also always been aware that there is more to life than meets the eye. Something for all of us to consider, especially at times when we confidently assume we've correctly assessed our lives. |