The Senses and Creation

by Cowboy Bob Sorensen 

Since my wife has gone to be with Jesus and I am alone now, I have to be much more precise in my daily activities. Getting ready for work each morning requires attention to detail and following a routine. During the morning hustle, I noticed how the senses play a part in our daily lives.

The alarm is on my phone ("Heaven Changes Everything") which goes off at almost the same time as the timer turns on the lamp. It is a mite cool in here because I dial down the heat for the night. Since I leave for work in about 100 minutes, I leave the heat alone.

View from bedroom with lamp on timer, modified with FotoSketcher
The faint smell of scented wax from the heater that Charlene liked reaches me and I remember using the device last night. I didn't like to smell cigarette from a neighbor's apartment. Sometimes the smell of doobie intrudes. It used to wake her up in the middle of the night, but Polly Pothead moved out and I don't have to deal with that anymore.

Remembering a couple of weeks ago, I was trying to cook something and there was a bad smell. The wrong burners were on and I ended up ruining a nice frying pan and the plastic tub that I had put on top of it. Good thing I was there and paying attention to the wrongness of the smell, else there could have been a stove fire. No time to discuss it here, but grief fog, a condition known by various nam,es that causes confusion for the bereaved and can last a year, was a likely contributor.

Frying up Catastrophic Eggs — I don't want cereal two days in a row if I can help it. The pan is sprayed with canola oil and I turned on the burner. While microwaving the sausage and hash brown patties, I am mixing eggs and other ingredients in a measuring cup.

Oh, I almost forgot my morning glass of water with apple cider vinegar. It wasn't strong enough today, but oh well.

After everything was stirred together for the breakfast concoction, I pour it into the frying pan. Not a good idea because I preheated it too soon, the angry sizzle informs me. When I flip the eggs over, they are a mite too brown. Still edible, though, and then I use the single-cup coffee maker. Now I have the smells of the eggs and coffee in here, which is nice.

Back into the bedroom with the computer. Eat, check mail, and — I forgot to schedule a video for The Question Evolution Project. Well, I still have half an hour, so I turn on the headphones (out of consideration for the neighbors at 6 AM) and find something. Since the human mind can adjust to these things, I play the video at  1-1/2 speed. That guy talks slowly anyway. Finish breakfast (the egg casserole was only slightly overdone but tasted all right), grab more coffee, approve the video that I previewed, and schedule it.

Time is getting short, so I pick up my phone and a device for work. There's the lunch bag that Charlene bought for me (one of her small acts of love), so I get the lunch out of the icebox that I made the night before. Break time snacks go in the front pouch with my plastic strip of pills. Put on the work vest, hat, and coat.

Out of my peripheral vision, I see something that I carry with me almost everywhere and pick that up. The keys are on a stand by the door and I take them in hand. On the door is a checklist of essentials, as I can't call my wife to bring something to my workplace that I've forgotten (she did that on the way to her own workplace). Did I put on the work vest? I reach under the coat and feel the material, so that's good.

After I lock the door (using the key from the outside reduces the chance of locking myself out) I go to her car. Well, it's mine now. Guess I'm running a bit late, I hear the train whistle. I shouldn't have to wait, it'll be done by the time I get there.

Yes, this lonely routine is true. It's also efficient. My purpose here is to show that our Creator gave us senses to use to help us live our lives. They also are important alarm signals. We use our senses constantly and may take them for granted. I am convinced this is a demonstration of his love and grace. You can count five senses used in the story.