Article November 19, 2012 Issue

Conversations in heaven

Maryl Walters

We had just bought our first little house, many years ago, and were eager to meet our neighbors. When I saw them out in the yard, I went over to say hello. They both started talking at once, with heavy accents. I listened carefully to try to understand what they were saying, all the while expecting one to back down and let the other proceed. But no, they both kept talking. After trying to follow two conversations and not being able to understand either, I realized I had to listen to one and shut out the other if I was going to have any communication at all. Even when I did that, the other neighbor kept talking.

My husband had the same experience, and we laughed about it. Finally, we solved the problem by making sure that we never went over there without each other. Then we could each give our full attention to one of our neighbors and keep our stories straight. And we found them to be lovely people, immigrants from Latvia with amazing stories of their harrowing escape through a latrine pit from a prisoner of war camp and other adventures on their way to America.

I was reminded of this experience recently when I was praying, trying to keep my thought completely focused on the spiritual facts of being. Yet no matter how determined I was to do this, I kept getting distracted by another conversation going on in my thought, vying
for my attention. This line of thought was harping on some apparent injustice and callousness regarding a relationship that had meant a lot to me. I would jerk my thought away from the anguish and turn to God—and then moments later realize I was right back in the mortal conversation.

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