Reminders of the Future
Recently I put a Kodak picture on the dashboard of my car. On the back of the picture it says in simple red font, "Jun. 1989."
Now, I have never been the kind of person that puts pictures on my dashboard - not any girlfriend that I can remember, and certainly not any sports teams, bands, models, or "selfies." But I found this treasure the other day at my little brother's new house, and something about it absolutely transfixes me. This blog entry is my attempt to explain why.
This "throwback" (25 years back!) snugly contains all five members of my family in front of the Pacific Ocean - probably Pismo Beach. My Dad is wearing his typical tight black jacket and is comfortably holding my 2 year-old little brother, who is looking at the camera with wide-eyed shock. My Mom is posing next to my Dad with a look of serene confidence, and her arm is around my freckled older brother. I am on the outskirts of the family, leaning into my older brother, with a goofy yet sincere grin befitting a six year old on an adventure called "vacation."
With the exception of my little brother, every family member looks incredibly happy. I remember those days, and I know that we really were. The Power Family beach vacations were the highlight of our year: restaurant food every night, long afternoons boogie boarding and body surfing in the ocean, evenings in the jacuzzi, and nights spent cozily crowded next to each other on a queen size bed watching movies. Sizzler and the EZ-8 Motel probably don't seem too lavish for someone from a wealthy or middle class home, but for the sons of a musician, growing up on the north side of Visalia, it was extravagant.
I genuinely enjoyed my family. My brothers and I got annoyed with each other like anyone else, but being the middle child, I consciously reaped the benefits of having an older brother to look up to, and a little brother to impress; altogether, 2 brothers with whom I could play any number of imaginative games. In our own world, we were action stars, die hards, G.I. Joes, villains and superheroes. I remember feeling sorry for people with sisters - they couldn't possibly be having as much fun as us! I also loved my parents. My Dad was fun, spontaneous, and just downright silly - in other words, my hero. And Mom was good at loving us.
It amazes me to think that my parents were only a few years older than me in this picture. It makes me wonder if I would have what it takes to be a husband and father of 3 in just a couple of years! I suppose it's hard to really know that when you haven't had the normal experiences that lead up to a situation like that...
You may be thinking that I'm just having a nostalgic moment, but I am convinced that it is something much, much more than that. I wouldn't take the time to write about mere nostalgia - that wouldn't be worth my time, and certainly not yours.
In a way that is almost mythical in nature, and certainly beyond intellectual reasoning, this picture "reminds" me of heaven. In fact, in a way, it takes my heart there whenever I look at it.
This picture sits on my dashboard because it is symbolic of some of the deepest yearnings of my heart, desires that will only be fulfilled in the fullest sense when I arrive on those eternal shores.
Family. Security. Intimacy. Brotherly love. Adventure. Newness of life. Eternity. These are some of the transcendent themes that shout to me as I gaze at this moment of time from June 1989. The sun is setting in the picture, casting a radiant glow upon each of our countenances. There is hope and confidence written all over our childlike faces. The ocean behind us provides the perfect backdrop, juxtaposing our human mortality with the feeling of immortal endlessness that the sea creates.
In William Wordsworth's poem, Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood, he was speaking of the same reality when he wrote, "There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, the earth, and every common sight, to me did seem appareled in celestial light, the glory and freshness of a dream... Heaven lies about us in our infancy; shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy, but he beholds the light, and whence it flows. He sees it in his joy..."
Before I had even read the above quote, the same thing was striking me when I could not take my eyes off this old family photo. Why? I wondered.
Because it's a picture of things to come. Because "heaven lies about us in our infancy."
I also miss my Dad, and this picture reminds me of the day when I will get to see him again. I've forgiven him - again and again. Now I just can't wait to see him.
Wordsworth's poem leaves you feeling forlorn at the lost glory experienced in childhood, but that's not where the story ends for those of the family of God. For those of us who experienced joy, and not pain, in our childhood, those memories become a guiding light to remind us of the newness, safety, adventure, and love of heaven. It becomes a memory of what is to come. We are to pray for as much as we can have now, wait for its fullness, and long for the day when all of heaven's family will be reunited under the shadow of the wings of the Almighty.
The perpetual adventure, the friendship of brothers, the intimacy between parents and children - even the snuggling of family movie times - it will all be there, in some glorious fashion or another. I know it. We will see the Father's face, and in doing, we will finally understand who we really are: that kid with the goofy grin on the pier, excited for what is next, leaning into the family he loves.
Now, I have never been the kind of person that puts pictures on my dashboard - not any girlfriend that I can remember, and certainly not any sports teams, bands, models, or "selfies." But I found this treasure the other day at my little brother's new house, and something about it absolutely transfixes me. This blog entry is my attempt to explain why.
This "throwback" (25 years back!) snugly contains all five members of my family in front of the Pacific Ocean - probably Pismo Beach. My Dad is wearing his typical tight black jacket and is comfortably holding my 2 year-old little brother, who is looking at the camera with wide-eyed shock. My Mom is posing next to my Dad with a look of serene confidence, and her arm is around my freckled older brother. I am on the outskirts of the family, leaning into my older brother, with a goofy yet sincere grin befitting a six year old on an adventure called "vacation."
With the exception of my little brother, every family member looks incredibly happy. I remember those days, and I know that we really were. The Power Family beach vacations were the highlight of our year: restaurant food every night, long afternoons boogie boarding and body surfing in the ocean, evenings in the jacuzzi, and nights spent cozily crowded next to each other on a queen size bed watching movies. Sizzler and the EZ-8 Motel probably don't seem too lavish for someone from a wealthy or middle class home, but for the sons of a musician, growing up on the north side of Visalia, it was extravagant.
I genuinely enjoyed my family. My brothers and I got annoyed with each other like anyone else, but being the middle child, I consciously reaped the benefits of having an older brother to look up to, and a little brother to impress; altogether, 2 brothers with whom I could play any number of imaginative games. In our own world, we were action stars, die hards, G.I. Joes, villains and superheroes. I remember feeling sorry for people with sisters - they couldn't possibly be having as much fun as us! I also loved my parents. My Dad was fun, spontaneous, and just downright silly - in other words, my hero. And Mom was good at loving us.
It amazes me to think that my parents were only a few years older than me in this picture. It makes me wonder if I would have what it takes to be a husband and father of 3 in just a couple of years! I suppose it's hard to really know that when you haven't had the normal experiences that lead up to a situation like that...
You may be thinking that I'm just having a nostalgic moment, but I am convinced that it is something much, much more than that. I wouldn't take the time to write about mere nostalgia - that wouldn't be worth my time, and certainly not yours.
In a way that is almost mythical in nature, and certainly beyond intellectual reasoning, this picture "reminds" me of heaven. In fact, in a way, it takes my heart there whenever I look at it.
This picture sits on my dashboard because it is symbolic of some of the deepest yearnings of my heart, desires that will only be fulfilled in the fullest sense when I arrive on those eternal shores.
Family. Security. Intimacy. Brotherly love. Adventure. Newness of life. Eternity. These are some of the transcendent themes that shout to me as I gaze at this moment of time from June 1989. The sun is setting in the picture, casting a radiant glow upon each of our countenances. There is hope and confidence written all over our childlike faces. The ocean behind us provides the perfect backdrop, juxtaposing our human mortality with the feeling of immortal endlessness that the sea creates.
In William Wordsworth's poem, Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood, he was speaking of the same reality when he wrote, "There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, the earth, and every common sight, to me did seem appareled in celestial light, the glory and freshness of a dream... Heaven lies about us in our infancy; shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy, but he beholds the light, and whence it flows. He sees it in his joy..."
Before I had even read the above quote, the same thing was striking me when I could not take my eyes off this old family photo. Why? I wondered.
Because it's a picture of things to come. Because "heaven lies about us in our infancy."
I also miss my Dad, and this picture reminds me of the day when I will get to see him again. I've forgiven him - again and again. Now I just can't wait to see him.
Wordsworth's poem leaves you feeling forlorn at the lost glory experienced in childhood, but that's not where the story ends for those of the family of God. For those of us who experienced joy, and not pain, in our childhood, those memories become a guiding light to remind us of the newness, safety, adventure, and love of heaven. It becomes a memory of what is to come. We are to pray for as much as we can have now, wait for its fullness, and long for the day when all of heaven's family will be reunited under the shadow of the wings of the Almighty.
The perpetual adventure, the friendship of brothers, the intimacy between parents and children - even the snuggling of family movie times - it will all be there, in some glorious fashion or another. I know it. We will see the Father's face, and in doing, we will finally understand who we really are: that kid with the goofy grin on the pier, excited for what is next, leaning into the family he loves.
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