Been thinking more about the whole "letting go" thing (yeah, still). Sounds like a broken record - but a good one.
Got home from work and played around some with Bunter (my brother's English bulldog puppy) in the hallway. He's got this toy...he loves it. It's (was) a green plastic ball. Bunter lost no time in crushing it into a flat, chewed, crumpled thing. Anyway. Home from work. Hallway. We play this game - he's standing midway through the hall with Green Thing in his mouth (can't really get his teeth into it 'cause it's hard plastic). I'm at the open end of the hall.....creeping toward him, saying slowly, "I...gonna...gets...it....!" (yeah, it has to be those words) - and he freaks out and goes running as fast and far away from me as he can (to other side of the hall...oops, dead end). Hides his face in the corner and waits for me to get close enough to slip around me and go to the other end of the hall. He must be thinking, "Yeah the heck you're gonna gets it! Victory!!!" And the game begins again. If at any point in the game I decide to grab a different toy out of his basket, watch out!
I wonder if we, like Bunter, have our little toys and want to keep them safe in the confines of our slobbering jowls. The toys really aren't worth a whole lot....but they're ours. And we'll do whatever we have to do to keep them like that.
Thinking back on some discussion in class....we're wondering why? Why are we soooo intrigued with this idea of running the cosmos? Could it be simply that we, like Adam and Eve, have this screwball impulse to play God? It seems soooooo stupid to try managing all these little things of our lives, somehow imagining that we can do it better than He can. It makes so much sense to hand it over to someone big enough to take care of it all. So why? Why do we hang on to our control of things? Maybe Fenelon's words are helpful here...
Got home from work and played around some with Bunter (my brother's English bulldog puppy) in the hallway. He's got this toy...he loves it. It's (was) a green plastic ball. Bunter lost no time in crushing it into a flat, chewed, crumpled thing. Anyway. Home from work. Hallway. We play this game - he's standing midway through the hall with Green Thing in his mouth (can't really get his teeth into it 'cause it's hard plastic). I'm at the open end of the hall.....creeping toward him, saying slowly, "I...gonna...gets...it....!" (yeah, it has to be those words) - and he freaks out and goes running as fast and far away from me as he can (to other side of the hall...oops, dead end). Hides his face in the corner and waits for me to get close enough to slip around me and go to the other end of the hall. He must be thinking, "Yeah the heck you're gonna gets it! Victory!!!" And the game begins again. If at any point in the game I decide to grab a different toy out of his basket, watch out!
I wonder if we, like Bunter, have our little toys and want to keep them safe in the confines of our slobbering jowls. The toys really aren't worth a whole lot....but they're ours. And we'll do whatever we have to do to keep them like that.
Thinking back on some discussion in class....we're wondering why? Why are we soooo intrigued with this idea of running the cosmos? Could it be simply that we, like Adam and Eve, have this screwball impulse to play God? It seems soooooo stupid to try managing all these little things of our lives, somehow imagining that we can do it better than He can. It makes so much sense to hand it over to someone big enough to take care of it all. So why? Why do we hang on to our control of things? Maybe Fenelon's words are helpful here...
Posts
2 comments:
Yeah, that's a big question and I have no idea of the answer. But maybe we'll feel our way there in the dark over the next few years (or a lifetime . . . !).
I simply loved this story of you and the bulldog. I was picturing you crawling on your hands and knees on the carpet, with him on the other end with Green Thing in his huge mouth, ultimately running into the corner. Great image, Barbara.
Aw. Came home the other day to find that my mom had finally sent Green Thing to his death ("Farewell, my friends. i go on to a better place!"). So we've discovered that Bunter is very quick to find a replacement. Now it's this stuffed squeaky heart toy. Gotta love him. :)
Post a Comment