구주대망 2016년 가을을 보내는 마지막 주일입니다. 금세 날씨가 추워 졌죠? 그 무더위 속에서는 상상할 수 없었던 현실입니다. 물론 상상할 수는 있었지만 그때는 느낌이 동반되지는 않았습니다. 그러나 지금은 다릅니다. 쌀쌀한 날씨는 지금 가을을 말하기가 무색할 정도입니다. 그래도 두툼한 옷으로 갈아입고 심호흡을 하면서 현관문을 나섭니다. 열심히 해도 주 4회 정도밖에 시간이 나질 않는 한 주간의 산책이기 때문입니다. 감사하게 집을 나서 5분 정도면 소나무 숲으로 들어갑니다. 올해도 어김없이 새로운 카펫으로 개비해 주셨습니다. 하나님께서 새로운 카펫으로 교체해 주셨다는 말입니다.
간밤에 세차게 불었던 바람덕분에 완연히 새로운 소나무 낙엽(갈비)이 두툼하게 깔려 있고 여기 저기 큰 잎의 낙엽들이 무늬를 놓은 멋진 카펫입니다. 이 세상 어떤 부자도 거실의 양탄자를 해마다 교체하는 사람은 없습니다. 돈이 없어서가 아니라 가성비 때문이겠죠? 하지만 우리 하늘 아버지는 뭐든 넘치도록 허락하시는 분이십니다. 쿠션도 보통이 아니고 은은한 솔향도 코끝을 자극하는 게 무시할 수 없습니다. 요즈음 용어로 표현하면 자연친화적이고 저절로 힐링이 되는 산책길입니다. 가끔씩 푸드덕 놀라서 날아가는 꿩들까지 옛 추억을 떠올리게 합니다.
게다가 KBS 클래식 음악도 동행을 합니다. 콩(Kong)이란 앱을 스마트폰에 다운 받아서, 최근에 구입한 물통 크기의 JBL 스피커를 허리가방에 넣어서 걷다보면 음악실이 따로 없습니다. 물론 부피 때문에 무게가 느껴지긴 하지만 스마트폰 음질과는 비교가 안 되니 기꺼이 그 무게를 감당하기로 결단을 내리고 산책길에 함께 합니다. (사실은 지난 번 자전거를 타기 위해서 구입했는데 산책까지 그 용도가 넓어졌습니다. 가격은 좀 했지만 제주도에서 이틀 자전거를 타면서 즐긴 것만으로도 그 값은 이미 보상을 받았다고 생각합니다.)
좀 더 길을 따라서 올라가다보면 소나무 낙엽, 갈비 길은 끝나고 이제는 큰 잎의 낙엽들이 흩날리고 깔려 있는 새로운 느낌의 길이 나옵니다. “시몽, 낙엽 밟는 소리가 들리는가?”라고 새삼 물을 필요가 없습니다. 사각거리는 소리가 이미 귀를 즐겁게 하고 있기 때문입니다. 게다가 늦가을의 풍경이 아직도 남아 있고 언제나 동행하는 아내가 함께 걷는다는 것은 최상의 감사제목이겠죠? 이제 가끔씩 생각 속에서 예행연습을 합니다. 떠남과 죽음이 오면 누구든 혼자 남아야 하고, 고통스럽지만 배우자를 대신한 것이라고 생각하며 살다가 자신의 차례를 맞이해야 하겠죠? 하지만 “사는 것이 그리스도니 죽는 것도 유익함이라”고 고백하는 신앙인으로 마지막을, 그 때는 맞이하고 싶다고 미리 기도하고 싶습니다.
This is the final Sunday bidding farewell to autumn in the year of our Lord 2016. How quickly the weather has turned chilly! In the midst of that sweltering summer heat, this reality was quite unimaginable. Of course, one could imagine it in thought, but the physical sensation was nowhere to be found back then. Now, however, things are different. The crisp, chilly air makes it feel almost embarrassing to even speak of autumn anymore. Still, I bundle up in thick clothes, take a deep breath, and step through the front door. Even at my best, I can manage this weekly walk only about four times a week. Thankfully, within five minutes of leaving the house, I enter a pine forest. Without fail, a brand-new carpet has been laid out again this year. That is to say, God has replaced the old carpet with a fresh one for us.
Thanks to the fierce wind that blew through the night, a thick, pristine bed of pine needles (galbi) has been laid down, beautifully patterned here and there with large fallen leaves—a magnificent carpet indeed. Not even the wealthiest person in the world replaces the living room rug every single year. It is not for lack of money, but because it simply makes no economic sense. Yet our Heavenly Father is One who grants all things in boundless abundance. The cushioning underfoot is extraordinary, and the gentle fragrance of pine teasing the nose simply cannot be overlooked. In modern terms, it is an eco-friendly path that naturally heals the soul. Even the pheasants that occasionally take flight with a startled flutter bring back fond old memories.
Moreover, KBS classical music accompanies my footsteps. Having downloaded the 'Kong' radio app on my smartphone, I slip a recently purchased water-bottle-sized JBL speaker into my waist pack; as I walk, the forest turns into a personal concert hall. Naturally, its bulk carries some weight, but because the sound quality is beyond comparison to a mere smartphone, I gladly resolved to bear that weight and take it along on my walks. (In truth, I originally bought it for cycling, but its purpose has expanded to walking. It was a bit pricey, but having enjoyed it during two days of cycling on Jeju Island, I feel it has already more than paid for itself.)
As I ascend further along the path, the trail of pine needles draws to a close, opening into a newly textured road scattered and blanketed with broad fallen leaves. There is no need to ask anew, “Simon, do you hear the sound of footsteps on the fallen leaves?” The crisp rustle is already delighting my ears. On top of that, the scenery of late autumn still lingers, and walking beside my lifelong companion—my wife—is surely the greatest reason for thanksgiving. Lately, I occasionally rehearse in my thoughts: when parting and death eventually arrive, someone must be left behind alone. Though painful, one must live on knowing they bear that sorrow in place of their spouse, until their own turn comes. Yet, as a person of faith who confesses, “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain,” I pray in advance that when the time comes, I may welcome that final moment in that very grace.
Dit is die laaste Sondag waarin ons afskeid neem van die herfs in die genadejaar 2016. Hoe vinnig het die weer nie koud geword nie! Te midde van daardie snikhete somer was hierdie werklikheid heeltemal ondenkbaar. Mens kon dit natuurlik verstandelik voorstel, maar die gevoel het toe ontbreek. Nou is sake egter anders. Die kille weer maak dit byna vreemd om nog van herfs te praat. Nietemin trek ek my dik klere aan, haal diep asem en stap by die voordeur uit. Selfs met die beste wil kom ek maar net sowat vier keer per week uit vir hierdie weeklikse staptog. Genadiglik stap ek skaars vyf minute van die huis af voor ek die dennebos binnegaan. Ook vanjaar is die paadjie sonder versuim van ’n splinternuwe mat voorsien. Dit wil sê, God het vir ons ’n nuwe tapyt neergelê.
Danksy die hewige wind wat gisteraand gewaai het, lê daar ’n dik, vars laag dennenaalde (galbi), versier met patrone van groot afgestorwe blare hier en daar—’n werklik pragtige mat. Nie eens die rykste mens op aarde vervang elke jaar die sitkamermat nie. Nie omdat hy die geld kortkom nie, maar sekerlik weens die doeltreffendheid daarvan. Ons hemelse Vader is egter Een wat alles in oorvloed skenk. Die veerkragtigheid onder die voete is besonders, en die subtiele dennereuk wat die neus prikkel, kan eenvoudig nie misgekyk word nie. In hedendaagse terme is dit ’n natuurlike wandelpad wat vanself genesing bring. Selfs die fisante wat nou en dan verskrik opvladder, roep ou herinneringe op.
Daarby stap KBS se klassieke musiek saam met my. Nadat ek die 'Kong'-toepassing op my slimfoon afgelaai het, sit ek my onlangs aangeskafte JBL-luidspreker—so groot soos ’n waterbottel—in my heuptas; soos ek loop, word die bos my eie musieksaal. Dit voel natuurlik taamlik swaar weens die grootte, maar aangesien die klankgehalte glad nie met ’n slimfoon vergelyk kan word nie, dra ek die gewig met graagte saam op my staptog. (Eintlik het ek dit destyds gekoop om fiets te ry, maar die nut daarvan het nou tot stap uitgebrei. Dit was ietwat duur, maar die plesier wat dit tydens twee dae se fietsry op Jeju-eiland verskaf het, het die prys reeds ten volle geregverdig.)
Wanneer mens verder teen die paadjie opstap, loop die pad van dennenaalde ten einde en maak dit plek vir ’n nuwe soort wandelpad, bestrooi en bedek met groot blare. Mens hoef nie weer te vra: “Simon, hoor jy die geritsel van die herfsblare?” nie, want die knisperende klank streel reeds die ore. Boonop talm die laatherfstoneel nog voort, en om my lewensmaat—my vrou—aan my sy te hê terwyl ons wandel, is sekerlik die heel grootste dankstof. Nou en dan oefen ek dit reeds in my gedagtes: wanneer skeiding en die dood aanbreek, moet iemand immers alleen agterbly. Al is dit pynlik, leef mens voort in die wete dat jy die pyn namens jou huweliksmaat dra, totdat jou eie beurt aanbreek. Tog wil ek vooraf bid dat ek, as ’n gelowige wat bely dat “om te lewe, Christus is, en om te sterwe, wins”, daardie laaste oomblik met dieselfde genade mag ingaan.