perhaps this is me overthinking things or as cass would say, turning something small into something big. But perhaps this is my nature. I turn things into stories, themes and give meaning to things. Because I believe our actions have meaning.
As I looked upon the Canada Day fireworks, I wondered what the allure of fireworks really was. They are bright explosions in the sky, moments where we set off gunpowder or something so that it flashes bright colors and then disappears into smoke. Sometimes we’ll feel the sound against our hearts seconds later. Sometimes the colours will change. But that’s it. In ten minutes, the show is over. Thousands are spent and a cloud of smoke trails off unseen into the dark night. People pack up their bags and head home. I wonder what the allure of fireworks is. If anything I was more entertained/intrigued by the child behind me who had wonder in their eyes. Or the sunset on its own as it fell across the waterfront.
I guess it speaks to who I am. I don’t enjoy flash and bang moments. I don’t enjoy bursts of things that dissolve and disappear right after. Sure I enjoy playing card games and having a good laugh playing munchkins with friends but at the end of the day, it’s not those events that are important. I’m the kind of person who loves to know what the long term journey is. Who writes a book about a group of people who mostly live everyday lives and who happen to spend some time on an adventure. When I read the stories of Jesus healing a blind man and then seeing him proclaim Jesus to the rest of his town I want to know so badly what happens next. Because there is always more. There is a lifetime and it is not in the loud and exciting moments that we see who we are but in the aftermath. When nobody is watching and the time is long. I don’t know if this is being jaded. I guess I like to think it’s sober-mindedness. That I’ve seen that things are a long journey. That whether it is choosing to DG lead or write a book or become a missionary, it will take time and effort. There is a cost to be counted and we don’t seem to think of that enough. Either way…
I wonder what the allure of fireworks is.
The Unforced Rhythms of Grace 