At work, we take a lot of screen captures: proof that we received this or sent that. ‘Too bad these precious snippets, frozen in time forever, are merely emails regarding serial numbers.
Yesterday, I took an hour and typed the relevant diary entries from ’74—(which is about how many there were). Now that’s what I call snippets! (But that’s for another post).
After doing that I ran an errand—and I’m not kidding: it was the strangest phenomenon! Cruising the same road I drove in high school, my little hands at 10 and 2 on the wheel, I was right there—in sophomore year! I even felt shorter (if that’s possible). I’ve often told my offspring that as we get older we still feel like the same (young) person inside. But, no, I don’t remember anything like this!
I can’t help but juxtapose youth’s memories against the postulate of what these little hands will be doing at the other end of my life. A striking reminder, yesterday, was when my friend got hit head on. (She’s bad off, but will be okay.)
This week I saw a short behind-the-scenes video of movie director Peter Jackson shooting the very last scene in Lord of the Rings. Elijah Wood nailed the scene in a take or two—but he kept having him play it again. The entire project, including Wood’s part as Frodo, was a book they just couldn’t bring themselves to close. (If you’ve seen these films, you really understand that.)
I want to be like Elijah. (Wow, how’s that for a double entendre?) I want the screen captures of my life be so exemplary that people will want to freeze-frame—maybe even replay—them. I want to finish well.
Well, for a one-minute blog post this is biting off more than I can chew. I’ll leave you with a quote I saw on Facebook; it gives me hope for capturing God’s grace in the little moments, as the pilgrimage continues to the closing of my book:
“Life is like a camera. Just focus on what’s important and capture the good times, develop them from the negatives, and if things don’t work out, just take another shot.”