Not just memories

The ground lies exposed after the first cutting of hay, stubble replacing the swaying stalks of field grass.  Smells of dried grass and rain impregnate the air.  I inhale and I remember.   Each smell evokes the memories encased in this flesh and bone.  I remember sweat soaked t-shirts, bare arms speckled with the chaff of the field.  I remember hot vinyl seats of an old red pickup truck as it lurched through the field.  I remember the smell of Grandpa's old milk jug filled with well water.  I remember cool breezes on the top of the load as I rested on itchy bales. 

Summer wind whips up my hair and cools the damp on my neck.  I smell more than memories in the layers whirling in the air of this field.  Each memory contains something more base, the Bedrock of all that is good and gentle and kind.

Strange how God reveals himself . . .  He is always there but we do not always have the ears to listen or the eyes to see.  He can take us back decades and remind us that all we loved was because of His touch.  All the good we remember is Him.  He is in the form of everything lovely and pure and rightly the object of filial affection.

Within the wind is the call of the primitive, untainted by history or man.  It is the call to remember who I am and for Whom I was created.  When I recall childhood memories I recall the very essence of God.  

For every smell, every sight, every sound, every touch is inculcated with the Maker of all my senses.  He is in all and through all and over all.  He is within every step and in every thought and every recollection.

"God, that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands;  Neither is worshipped with men's hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; And hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation; That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us:  For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring."  Acts 17:24-28, KJV (emphasis mine)