History Starts Now
The following LONG post was hand-written on December 29 and typed and additions made on January 1 (and posted under dubious circumstances).
I write by moonlight and twinkling candlelight. I have been in bed for hours, thinking when I should have been sleeping. The hours before that were consumed by the pursuit of an unabridged copy of David Copperfield and a box of Nerds. I love to read. However, I become restless as I near the end of a book. How will it all conclude? Will it be happy or sad? If it be sad, will any hope remain for happiness in the future? Having read a few Dickens books before, I am doubly anxious! Some of his endings have left me in joyful tears, others with a wide mouth in exasperation and unbelief. As I have been thinking in my bed, my thoughts have ranged from the news I hear coming from the TV in the other room that Sadaam Hussein is dead. I remember when the bombings were aired on the news during the first Gulf War that I was so scared that I hid behind the couch. I have been thinking of my Mom lying in her own bed very sick with a bad cold. How I wish I could stay home and make her happy. But at the same time, I wish to have my own life and to be happy myself. I have been thinking of all the bygone days of my childhood. A thousand stars twikling in the summer night sky. A thousand lightening bugs flashing in vain imitation of the stars above. Listening to the whipperwills. Chasing June bugs. Hanging clothes out on the line to dry. Swinging and watching Dad till up the garden. Snowmen and snowball fights. Putting up the Christmas tree. These remebrances may seem dull and silly, but I am overwhelmed with tears-remembering what my life was, or at least what I thought it was. There are ill shadows from the past that threaten to overcome these happy memories, but other than to say they existed, I will write no more of them. This brings me to the cause of my current sleeplessness. Ask a normal person what their greatest fear is and the common answers will tumble out: death, public speaking, spiders and in rare, but delicate cases, ladybugs. What is my greatest fear? The future. The specter of the past is daunting enough, but at least he can be seen, known and dealt with. The specter of the future presents a double haunting. He is unkowable and unforseeable. At his coming there may be gladness and there may be evil. It tortures me. I can devour a book in a few hours and know what happens to the main characters. But what of me and those I love? There is no reading ahead. No fast forwarding in life. Doom or delight, it must be waited for. And while I have every ounce of confidence in the soveriegnity of God, it still frightens me that to some mysterious extent, I still have an active role in writing my own story. And over the lives of others, I have no control or influence. I am fearful. Fearful of making a dreadful mistake. Everyday people make common choices that affect them for the rest of their lives. Whether this be prideful perfectionism or sinful unbelief or honest-come-by fear or a mixture I don't know. But I do know it plagues me! But in the end I must say with Copperfield's friend Agnes, "There is still God to trust in!" Let the preceding stand as a warning to all of the dangers of mixing Dickens, sugar, a full moon and a full brain on a lonely night!
After writing this, I got to thinking some more. What if you (or I) were given a "Life Remote". It has two buttons, "Fast-Forward" and "Rewind". You can only use one. Which one would you use and how far would you let your life's tape run before you hit "Play" again? At first it seemed like the best choice for me is to rewind to the beginning and start over, but what's to say that the same wouldn't happen again? How would I know to make things different? Then it seemed desirable to hit "Fast Forward" and let the dang tape just run to the end! Then there would be no more anxiety. I would be at life's end and would know all that happened to me. No more surprises, just go Home. But then I realized, if I did that, I would know where I was but I wouldn't know how I got there. Through the pain of the past, I've learned many lessons. Painful at times, but always useful. So I guess the best course is to run the only one that is given to us, to let the tape keep playing and trust the One who casted us in this crazy play called Life to take care of the details.
I write by moonlight and twinkling candlelight. I have been in bed for hours, thinking when I should have been sleeping. The hours before that were consumed by the pursuit of an unabridged copy of David Copperfield and a box of Nerds. I love to read. However, I become restless as I near the end of a book. How will it all conclude? Will it be happy or sad? If it be sad, will any hope remain for happiness in the future? Having read a few Dickens books before, I am doubly anxious! Some of his endings have left me in joyful tears, others with a wide mouth in exasperation and unbelief. As I have been thinking in my bed, my thoughts have ranged from the news I hear coming from the TV in the other room that Sadaam Hussein is dead. I remember when the bombings were aired on the news during the first Gulf War that I was so scared that I hid behind the couch. I have been thinking of my Mom lying in her own bed very sick with a bad cold. How I wish I could stay home and make her happy. But at the same time, I wish to have my own life and to be happy myself. I have been thinking of all the bygone days of my childhood. A thousand stars twikling in the summer night sky. A thousand lightening bugs flashing in vain imitation of the stars above. Listening to the whipperwills. Chasing June bugs. Hanging clothes out on the line to dry. Swinging and watching Dad till up the garden. Snowmen and snowball fights. Putting up the Christmas tree. These remebrances may seem dull and silly, but I am overwhelmed with tears-remembering what my life was, or at least what I thought it was. There are ill shadows from the past that threaten to overcome these happy memories, but other than to say they existed, I will write no more of them. This brings me to the cause of my current sleeplessness. Ask a normal person what their greatest fear is and the common answers will tumble out: death, public speaking, spiders and in rare, but delicate cases, ladybugs. What is my greatest fear? The future. The specter of the past is daunting enough, but at least he can be seen, known and dealt with. The specter of the future presents a double haunting. He is unkowable and unforseeable. At his coming there may be gladness and there may be evil. It tortures me. I can devour a book in a few hours and know what happens to the main characters. But what of me and those I love? There is no reading ahead. No fast forwarding in life. Doom or delight, it must be waited for. And while I have every ounce of confidence in the soveriegnity of God, it still frightens me that to some mysterious extent, I still have an active role in writing my own story. And over the lives of others, I have no control or influence. I am fearful. Fearful of making a dreadful mistake. Everyday people make common choices that affect them for the rest of their lives. Whether this be prideful perfectionism or sinful unbelief or honest-come-by fear or a mixture I don't know. But I do know it plagues me! But in the end I must say with Copperfield's friend Agnes, "There is still God to trust in!" Let the preceding stand as a warning to all of the dangers of mixing Dickens, sugar, a full moon and a full brain on a lonely night!
After writing this, I got to thinking some more. What if you (or I) were given a "Life Remote". It has two buttons, "Fast-Forward" and "Rewind". You can only use one. Which one would you use and how far would you let your life's tape run before you hit "Play" again? At first it seemed like the best choice for me is to rewind to the beginning and start over, but what's to say that the same wouldn't happen again? How would I know to make things different? Then it seemed desirable to hit "Fast Forward" and let the dang tape just run to the end! Then there would be no more anxiety. I would be at life's end and would know all that happened to me. No more surprises, just go Home. But then I realized, if I did that, I would know where I was but I wouldn't know how I got there. Through the pain of the past, I've learned many lessons. Painful at times, but always useful. So I guess the best course is to run the only one that is given to us, to let the tape keep playing and trust the One who casted us in this crazy play called Life to take care of the details.
posted by Elder at 5:21 PM
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