Instructions Before Reading

I stand by the right to publish incomplete snippets. The point of this blog is to share life. If there is a unity in my life, it will become apparent what that unity is. No post is a complete thought, theology, worldview, or poem within itself, it must be taken within the context of the entirety of this blog, considerations of who I am in public as well as who I am in extreme situations like when I am forced to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to help my wife jump start her car in 20 degree weather.

I recognize my right as a flawed human being to do the following: 1) be wrong, 2) change my mind, 3) be inconsistent, 4) have improper grammar and spelling conventions. You are just as flawed, wrong, capricious, and prone to theological alteration as I am... so get over it.

Pictures of Buffalo

It's easy to live life through a two inch screen.

I heard a story about a couple who banned the use of phones and cameras at their wedding. They wanted people to take in the experience with them, rather than re-view it through a pixelated portal. I'm sure the photographer was excluded from the ordinance.

It's tempting to try and capture every significant moment digitally. We want to be able to relive something in a way that our imagination won't let us, so we are in a state of constant cell phone preparedness.

The irony is, that in trying to preserve the moment, we miss it altogether. Courtney and I are in Oregon this week. My parents came out for my graduation, so we drove back with them, making stops along the way. As we took a northern route home from Indiana, it only made sense to drive through Yellowstone and get our first glimpse of Old Faithful. Standing in front of the steaming spout with two or so minutes left before the fireworks began, we heard my Dad yell from near the lodge. Two Bison were sauntering in our direction, seemingly ignorant of the mostly Asian and European mass that had worked itself into a frenzy over its casual presence. I snapped into action, literally. Before you could say Kodak is bankrupt I was capturing the experience with high-resolution clarity. Then it hit me, put down the camera. Instead of worrying about a good shot, or missing something fantastic, I decided just to breath it in.

The Buffalo mozied toward us. I sware, if I ever saw anything mozy, it was this buffalo, and it was beautiful. I've never been that close to an unleashed beast and felt the awe of its strength; at any moment he could have run down my wife, myself, or any of the other greenhorn tourists. This was a taste of raw nature, and in trying to preserve the moment, I almost missed it.

Moments of wonder can't be forced, captured, or preserved. We can only stop, listen, and accept them for what they are, when they come and when they leave. If this weren't the case, Courtney and I wouldn't have to work on our marriage; we could just watch our wedding video and relive the idealized passion. But instead we try to make space for great moments, put down the camera, and breath them in like life.

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