God gave me a moose

 

God gave me a moose                  A Story by Eidolon

Try to imagine life as a grand symphony. Each instrument is a divine creation. Every part has a purpose, every sound-a balanced opposite. This "symphony” has an objective: to learn and create. It works together with magnificent composure. Its glorious sound resonates throughout the universe.

Imagine heaven as the perfect song. A song already created. A song we’re waiting to hear.

This song is something to hope for, something to ease the pains of life and death. On varying levels, we all long for this song-even if it’s just bits and pieces of it. It continues to play, though we don't always listen. Unexpectedly, it will grab you in a moment so profound and strum a chord so familiar. It strums your chord. Time seems to pause as the universe acknowledges your chord. It’s a moment of unveiled clarity. If this moment could talk, it would delicately whisper "I see you".

I love hearing my chord. The deeper I look, the more I hear it. In this clear moment, I sometimes imagine Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. You might even hear me quietly utter duh duh duh duuuhhh in my silly efforts of reciprocation. It just seems appropriate-giving the majestic moment a regal song in exchange.

Everyone has a chord- tangible and unique as a thumbprint, but no chord sounds as mellifluous and tender as your very own.

It's a special moment to witness your chord. It's a recognizable truth that you are part of something much bigger than yourself. In such a grandiose existence, you are a puzzle piece. You matter. A puzzle with missing parts is bothersome to look at and not worth the time and effort to build.

You matter. We are all connected.

Last summer I stayed at a mountain resort in Utah. Snowbird is a busy place with skiing in the winter and multiple summer activities. Thousands of people come and go to this place daily. I've been there multiple times.

Because of the high traffic, I snickered a little to find a moose warning sign-right in the middle of the resort's busy playground. A moose would have to walk through a giant parking lot and through a crowd of people to encounter this jungle gym.

Yeah right, I thought.

[If you're getting an ominous feel of an attack about to happen-don't worry. The only thing waiting to attack at this stage in my story is the element of surprise.]

Surprised I was, later that day, to look out my window and see a tiny black dot on the hill that proved to be my desired moose.

"So cool"! I said to my sister (three or four times before she mocked my "thrilling" encounter).

To her, this was just another wild animal- much like the prairie dogs out front filling their gut with the resort's high priced lawn. To me…this was magic.

So many times we obsess over the things people do, and we forget to marvel about what we just are. We're incredible beings with nerves and blood vessels and detailed connecting parts- each with a purpose. We have hearts that continually pump blood for sometimes a hundred years straight. Basically, we're that heavenly song I talked about earlier.

We seek finality in a divine place, but it’s already inside of us. We're magic.

Creatures big and small, I love animals. Growing up, I thought everyone loved animals; I wasn't yet aware of the animal lover gene that only affects certain people. I can’t help it, it's in my DNA.

What a marvelous creature my moose was, with his sculpted antlers and muscular-yet lissome frame. He was a walking Statue of David in animal form. What an honor it was for my world to collide with his.

I had to have closer look. By the time I took the elevator down, he was gone. Back where he came from, back to his home in Narnia.

Oh well- I sighed- that was that...and I went back to my children...back to the playground...back to the yellow moose sign that made me snicker.

After a few slide runs and swing pushes, my ten year old grabbed my attention to show me the fort he discovered earlier. He eagerly guided me through bushes and trees pausing at moments for me to catch up.

In seconds he turned- the blood drained from his face. “Go, go!" he commanded with such urgency. Five feet away were a mother moose and her baby. What in the world?..

After a breath-catching /debriefing session, we turned a corner to find not one-but two more moose (another mother and calf). Where are they coming from? Moose don't travel in packs.

I was so blown away, I could barely believe my luck, and it was still far from over. Standing in the pond next to the street were two more moose. The sun mirrored their grandiose reflection in the stillness of the water. My breath held still... time paused…

Duh duh duh duuhhh...perfect clarity; my chord.

I was by myself on the way back to our room, when I heard someone holler "up ahead"! Had I walked straight forward twenty-five feet, I would have run into- you guessed it- another moose. He was hidden around the corner as if to jump out at me in surprise. At this point I was shaking my head with the kind of sly smile that says "you got me".

Eight moose? It's the perfect oddity that has a person glancing around the premises, wondering what kind of joke they've fallen victim to.

I know it could have been just eight random moose that coincidently decided to walk in the same direction. I know I'm not some great magnetic force that the world orbits around. I'm insignificant in comparison.

I also know that I matter enough to be given a moose. If God could direct all those animals onto an ark, then surely He could send me a moose. I bet He's up there smiling and winking- happy with our connection.

He gave me eight moose. I got His message loud and clear:

"I see you.”