Thursday, May 15, 2014

Pictures, Pictures, and Then?

The monitor on my computer is big and bright with a familiar scene. It’s a sunshiny photo of one of Laguna’s lovely beaches. Robin took the picture and we went to the park overlooking this beach the other day to recapture memories. Our memories were made a generation apart but the scene has scarcely changed, to the eye, in eons. I was glad to see it in glorious real time again. But as I breathed in the strong ocean air, watched the sea gulls swoop and soar, their scolding screeches punctuating the brush of wings, I remembered only fractions of the child I was. Never swimming but paddling around fearlessly, riding the waves, diving off rocks, then basking on the hot sand. I could still feel the sun's caress and how it soothed away my shaking chills. But that young girl was gone. 

When I compare the world of pictures to the world of youth’s pungent persistent present I feel I've climbed a mountain and the view is grand but distant. I get a glimpse of the past through the binoculars of pictures, but I am no longer there. I am destined to go over the hill, to see the other side. I can’t go back the way i came but there are no pictures of the future. It is shrouded in secrecy and merely whispered in prophecy. 

Have you ever had the feeling that those adorable babies and toddlers who call themselves your grandchildren and great grandies, the ones whose pictures dominate the Facebook pages, are pushing you out of the picture? Well, they are, and we are allowing it. Those minutes of childhood realities I had of climbing trees, swinging, sledding down snowy slopes, skating on ice clad rivers, pony rides, and all the wonders of childhood have already been swallowed up in memory. I'm headed straight into unknown territory. There are no pictures there. Pictures are partial to the past. 

Something new and fresh and totally different is dawning on us. Jesus didn’t slide down the other side of the mountain. He ascended; he was lifted up. I think he meant for us to follow. In a realm where time is obsolete I think pictures will become obsolete too. But, for now, I’m enjoying them. Especially ones of the babies. And the beach that is right here reminding me.


2 comments:

  1. Good Morning, Joyce! Love the descriptions of your childhood and the view of the ocean from Laguna. Your insights on how to view our eternal future is inspiring. To see our 'next chapter' as an adventure and a bright journey is the way it should be. Viewing life through the eyes of the child is what we are commanded to do , and it's for our good that we choose such an outlook. As you say, the unknown future is hidden and shrouded but that doesn't mean it is dark and foreboding. So much of life is choice and when we choose to see the bright side, we are blessed. It is a win, win. The choice to believe in a bright, eternity equates to faith and God blesses us for trusting him in that way.
    ".. unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of Heaven." Thank you for the gentle and beautiful reminder that God is good and His love is everlasting.

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  2. I like alliteration! I counted not less than eleven examples in this excellent essay! :-)

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