Musing

Dear friends,

I went for a drive today. I've been going on a lot of drives lately. While I was barn-sitting, I'd have about five hours free every day to use as I wished. I used a few of them to go driving and exploring the countryside. This evening, I was melancholy and a bit lonesome, so I went for a drive. I started out at about 7pm and hoped to make it to the west coast in time to see the sun set. I didn't make it, because there aren't any main roads along the west coast (at least not anywhere close to where I went). Oh well. It was still a pretty drive. And it only took about 45 minutes to go as far west as I could. Ha! Talk about a small country.

As I drive, I often wonder if I'd rather someone else be driving so that I can just look at the scenery without having to pay attention to the road. There is so much to look at and so much to take in; it's like I feel the pressure to have to remember everything I see so that I can fully enjoy it. But tonight I started thinking about it in a different way. I'll explain it here:

When I see a beautiful sunset, and I mean a beautiful sunset--red sky, puffy clouds, brilliant and glorious colors and textures, I am filled with awe and wonder. To do anything other than watch the sunset seems irreverent and much less important. And, every time, I want to remember it--take a mental picture so that I can remember it in days to come, it's just that beautiful.

Today, as I was watching the sunset, I was filled with awe and amazement, as I have been a lot lately. (Yes, the rumors are true. New Zealand is beautiful.) But I realized something: No matter how hard I try, I can't make myself remember something in the future. I can't take a mental picture of something and then force myself to remember it, in the future. Does that make sense? I can make it available to my future self, but I can't make my future self take advantage of it. Besides, only when I'm looking at a sunset do I remember the feeling of looking at a sunset; all other times of the day, it doesn't cross my mind. The same thing happens as I drive. The scenery is so beautiful, so green, so unique... but I don't remember it well. What a shame!

But is it a shame? Maybe the point of a beautiful sunset or beautiful scenery isn't to be remembered, but to be enjoyed in the moment. Like a good conversation with a friend. Who remembers all good conversations they've had with a friend? I'd assume that no one does. Yet the conversations (or moments of awe in nature) deeply affect us in ways that we probably won't understand. Besides, if the point was to remember everything, what mental capacity would we have to enjoy current things? If I spent time remembering a beautiful sunset, maybe I'd miss the one that's happening right now, in front of me. Same with conversations with friends. Relationships change, because we change. Everyone changes. Even our relationships with Holy Spirit change, because we change and He is ever revealing more depths of Himself to us. Trying to remember everything would be like putting down a stepping stone to cross a river, then trying to pick it up and take it with you as you continue crossing.

Yes, there are some things that need to stick in our memories. But to live the present so that it's a good story about the past to be told in the future... that's a bit confusing and maybe even messed up, and I need to stop living like it. I need to live in--and enjoy fully--the present.

That's all.

Thanks for reading. May peace and joy accompany you in whatever you do. For many of you, it's Thanksgiving today. Happy Thanksgiving. :)

Sarah