Calling the Shots

Face it, fix it, and forget it. Source Unknown

It must be hunting season. The deer and antelope seem more skittish than usual. A beautiful buck with a nice rack wandered into our yard. I grabbed my camera, which was by my side for once, and in the time it took me to turn, grab, and turn back, the buck was gone. Even though it was outside and I was inside, it seemed to know instinctively that it was about to be shot. Whether the shot was to be ballistic or digital mattered not to that ol’ mulie (or was it a white-tail?). It skedaddled.

I snuck up to the window to see where it might have gone, and as I peeked along the edge of the pane, I saw the deer peeking back from around the corner of the house. We spent a few minutes playing peek-a-boo with each other, but nothing much came of it (not even the courtesy of him saying, “Cheese”), so I gave up and went back to reading the news. I will have to try my hand at photo-journalism some other time.

Cameras are like that with me. They are never in hand when I need them. When something happens and I want a picture, the camera is elsewhere; when the camera is with me, nothing happens.

A couple months back a black bear ran across the highway as we were driving up out of Virginia City. I did the best quick-draw I could with my cell-phone (holstered on my hip), but by the time I “woke up” the phone, unlocked the screen, and found the camera icon, ol’ Smokie had gone off, gotten married, and had cubs and grand-cubs. Grrr!

A couple weeks back we were headed to Virginia City for church and – LO! The town moose and her calf were crossing the road 100 feet from our house. I slammed on the brakes, whipped out my cell-phone and, with in-humanly blazing speed, caught their rear ends dropping down into a neighbor’s backyard brush. After church I rushed home to check out the photos. Sadly, not even the most sophisticated CSI agents would be able to prove that the brown spots surrounded by black splotches in the center of the photos are the backsides of a moose and her child. Grrr!

But that’s life, isn’t it? I really want to memorialize my experiences in pictures, but what I end up with are memories – and what’s wrong with that?

There is a commercial I see on television every now and then of folks at a school play fighting, scratching, and clawing their way to the best places to record the play, while another couple with a latest and greatest cell-phone/camera sit back, relax, and enjoy the show (because their phone brings the action to them). It’s a good commercial. Why do I say that? Because it makes me WANT THAT PHONE! Of course, that is only my evil twin – Covetous Keith – talking. Contented Keith is above all that nonsense.

Anyway, the point is that we are sometimes so wrapped up in our various technologies (designed to connect and communicate) that we forget what it means to actually enjoy the experience of where we’re at, who we’re with, and what we’re doing. Isn’t it enough to simply enjoy the bear ambling across the highway? Do we need to capture it on film (or digital media)? Isn’t it enough to simply watch a moose and her calf trot across the street a couple of first downs away from our home? Isn’t it enough to play peek-a-boo with a majestic, but skitterish, buck – and regale our friends with the tale (sans photos)?

I wonder if God is taking pictures and recording our every thought, word, move, and deed. Perhaps God is satisfied with watching us at work and play, doing what we do.

If God DOES take a picture of us doing something kind or noble, let’s hope it isn’t just because God has never seen us do such a thing. Let’s hope it is because God has finally just gotten the hang of how to use his latest and greatest cell-estial phone here in this, our valley. Just remember to say “cheese” every once in a while.