A mystery teases all our senses. If it is a song we can’t remember, we can still taste the words on our tongue and feel the voice in our ears even though vowels and consonants escape in the shrouds of time. If it is a movie we saw long ago, images are still burned into our minds and fuel our imaginations. Scenes, ways of speaking, faces…. All of them formulate something we used to know and is still just outside our understanding.
There is something beautiful about waiting for years before really remembering how that story ended, or how that song went. Perhaps there is a smell . . . one perfect smell . . . it makes you feel like a kid. Maybe it makes you happy for some inexplicable reason. It could make you sad, it could be another nameless scent among thousands throughout your day, but it doesn’t, it makes you happy . . . why?
Mystery is magical. We cannot comprehend a the depths of a mystery. We cannot explain it, it is magic. It’s a trick, an enigma, or a farce. It turns us into children once more, and propels us to a time when our minds could not grasp the complexities of how a car is able to turn gasoline into forward motion, or how gold is heavier than rocks, or how wind can twist trees out of the ground like they were matchsticks.
Mystery is a gift from God. He knows the answer, and still He lets us learn for ourselves the tug of the current in a creek and the warmth fire can provide.