In my last post, Running With The Bulls, I mentioned how a once alive, beautiful 3D experience, given time, eventually integrates and turns into nothing more than a mere memory of something we already know. For example, the birth of a newborn baby. When my first baby was born, I had to take a million pictures of this amazing little, pink creature. My husband and I captured every possible expression that that kid made! We were so enthralled with the creation of our little miracle, that suddenly existed.
Then… there was the second child. Not that we loved her any less, but, you see… we already knew what a miracle looked like. Still… we took a lot of pictures of this adorable little one, but we didn’t quite capture every expression, like we did with the first one! You see, we had already started to become accustomed to the idea of this type of miracle, for we had experienced it once before. And… because of this… we didn’t need to be so present and amazed anymore.
When I thought about how an actual, real live 3D miracle was destined to become part of a person’s brain pattern, this used to really bother me. “How sad.” I’d think. “Why were we created this way? Where is the wisdom in this? Why can’t we be present to such miraculousness all of the time?”