There are certain sights that are disgusting. Without apology or offense to anyone or culture, my body reacts. If it’s extreme, the message is extreme. There are times where I wished I had not reacted. I wanted to be neutral. I hoped to let it go by without comment on any level. Yet, the message from inside was overwhelming! I truly disgusted what I was seeing, smelling, and at times tasting.
Disgust is an emotion that is hard to control. I do not think I have it in my grasp. When something is disgusting, I react. It is immediate. It is candid. Everything in my being screams disgust.
Recently I was challenged on what I taught others. If you do not teach disgust, how to do you love? If you do not teach what you do not like, where does what you do like fit? If you do not teach being alone, how can you be together?
It is an interesting question that I rarely wrestle with. The point has two edges. If I do not notice who is failing, will I be able to see those who are succeeding? I look back and see writers expressing her/his disgust. When I hear David speaking, “Pile on the guilt, God! Let their so-called wisdom wreck them. Kick them out! They’ve had their chance.” (Psalm 5.10) I know he is talking about actions and people that he finds revolting. It is easy to conclude that he profoundly disapproves of who and what they are. The honesty and candor tells me that he also knows what he believes and embraces.
On love’s day, it feels strange to write about disgust. Yet there is a whisper I find difficult to hear. It reminds me I need candor in my life, expressing what I find revolting so I can clearly show what I love. In this gap, I find myself saying to individuals in my heart that do not hear me, “I love you”. To those that do not feel my presence, “I miss you”. To my friends, “You are special”.
