My semi-anonymity shattered, I nevertheless have no other suitable venue for the idea that has popped into my head. So if you are inclined to think that ruminations about the nature of our relationship with God are corny, I invite you to read on anyway, or you may choose click the "back" button. If you know me in "real life" your opinion of me may be altered--or not!
Last week, my husband was on a business trip in Mexico. He left on Sunday in the early afternoon, and returned on Friday--again, in the early afternoon. This is the longest we have been apart in our near-thirteen years of marriage. For my part, I think I handled it well. There were times during the week when I thought about emailing him at work about some casual event or thought and receiving a quick response, only to realize with a sinking feeling that that would not happen. I had to be much more proactive with daily household matters, since there was only one of me, and I depend on my husband greatly when he is home. I had to be the last person awake at night, and to turn out the lights, leaving empty rooms behind me as I made my way to the bedroom that he & I share with our two girls (yes, you read that right!), but the girls made sure that I never suffered from too much extra space in bed!
On Friday, I was the only person who was there to meet him at the airport--a rare treat to have two hours alone with my husband. Just like when he Skyped with me from abroad, I was unable to suppress a smile of almost giddy happiness on the way to the airport, and the reunion--just seeing him again--was euphoric. The waitress at Red Lobster must have thought we were newlyweds from the look on my face. As I told my husband tonight, I wasn't crazy about the travel, but to be able to have that euphoric reunion was amazing, and I would welcome the opportunity to experience that feeling--a feeling that lasted for several hours at least--again.
I confessed this emotion--the eagerness for joy after separation--to my husband tonight, and in doing so, stumbled upon the word "euphoria." I speculated that there is likely a chemical component to such a feeling, since it is a very physical kind of joy. But the biological does not subtract from the spiritual nature of the (re)union, and I was reminded of the nature of marriage as a Sacrament, the purpose of which is to teach us truths about God.
Thinking about the chemistry of long-term marriage reminded me, after the connection with my own experience, of my grandmother, who seemed to lose a spark after my grandfather died. I thought of how it would be for her if loved ones are reunited in heaven. But then I considered--isn't the Christian notion of heaven poised to be the greatest possible reunion of love? And the euphoria of reunion of spouses only a shadow of what we must feel when united with God?
There are things that I believe that I do not fully grasp--such is the nature of belief: to accept and strive to understand in a limited way without always feeling the reality of the tenet. But we want that fuller knowledge. I pray, "Thy Kingdom Come," and "wait in joyful hope for the coming of Your Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ," but it is something I have struggled with--to what extent do I really mean this? I fear death. On the ladder of faith, I am not at a high enough rung to embrace the idea of departing this life to meet God. And C. S. Lewis's portrayal of heaven in The Last Battle warms my earthly, materialistic heart because it contains what is good in both Narnia and England--in very physical form. Dante's luminous spheres don't move me so much.
So in the memory of the unrestrained joy, the giddy happiness with which I greeted my husband on Friday, enjoying every moment because I was once again in his company, I received this grace: a shadow of an understanding--a feeling! a knowing!--of what it must mean to (re)unite ourselves with God--and that is not a finite joy.
