Life Isn't a Postcard

There's a difference between looking at a postcard and looking out a window.

At first glance, neither seems to be changing. Look at the postcard--the river is still, the trees are not moving, the water makes no sound. Look out the window--the wind isn't blowing, the grass isn't moving, there is nothing to watch.

Wait a few minutes and look again, they both look the same.

But then, as you look down at the postcard, something catches your eye--outside the window. A squirrel is winding its way up the trunk of your neighbor's tree. And you notice the wind gently swaying the tulips in your own flower bed. Then the squirrel goes away, and the wind dies down. You wait a few minutes, again, looks the same.

Six months go by. The postcard hasn't changed. Not one bit, except for the corner, which was bent one day as you reached over for your coffee. Ah, but the window! What was green has become brown, with white accents. The warmth and life of Spring has turned into the chill of fall. The death of winter is coming, and you can sense it.

The interesting thing is, you could have looked out your window each day for the last 175 days, and never really noticed a difference between one day and the next. And yet, here you are, looking out at a scene that barely resembles that day back in April.

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Our inclination is to turn life into a postcard. *Click*. We have captured it--a situation, a moment, the memory of an event. Then we hang it on our mental bulletin board, and we stare at it. We evaluate it.

We like it. We don't like it. We agree with it. We wish it hadn't happened.

We try to forget it. We grieve over it. We remember it with joy. We laugh when we look at it. Or we cry. In our brains we want to deal with it and be done with it. Understand it. Conclude. File it away. Pull it out only when we want to.

But a snapshot doesn't reflect the nature of life. It's only a still-life. It's a moment in time that will be impossible to recreate. We were never meant to *click* take that picture anyway. But this is what our brains would have us do. Observe, evaluate, and decide. Reach a conclusion. Find a perspective. Take a position.

And our hearts hate it. Because life is a story.

The trouble is, just like looking out the window for six months, life simply doesn't look like it's moving. Our minds tell us we're just here, in our postcard, enjoying this detail, and wishing that was different. Wishing, agreeing, disagreeing.

But not hoping.

Something tells me if we could suddently relive a day from just six months ago, the little details that have changed from that day to this would be so much more evident to us, and we'd be more inclined to look out our window with anticipation. Wondering, what will happen next? Instead of thinking, "I wish this was different."

Life is a story. Each day brings tiny little unnoticeable changes. This thing is going somewhere.

Wonder, my friends. Wonder.

Not knowing is the true foundation of faith.