Where Were You?
Where were you when Elvis died? Were you even born? I was sitting in front of a 13-channel Magnavox television at my baby-sitters century-old, north Chattanooga house.
Where were you when man landed on the moon? I was probably wetting my washable, cloth diapers.
Where were you 100 years ago? Well, I wasn’t around then, but 100 years from now, if I live to be 145, I will remember today.
I was in the process of taking my mind off of the true stresses and cares of this world, like finances, cell phones that don’t work the way you think they should after the money you spend on them, and sick wives (well, the one I have, at least), when all of a sudden my daughter screams, “You’re missing it!”
At one moment I was in the process of putting together a memorable blog piece about marbles and possibly some puke, then the next I was reminded that it was 12:12 on 12/12/12.
My daughter took a picture on her phone to archive the moment. Cool, huh? But not as cool as a post about marbles and puke, I bet.
Made Me Think
So, I began to think as I was typing this post as a substitute for the post I was in the process of composing, “what could be the point?” In other words, my daughter just memorialized a once-in-a-life-time event, but so what? It that it? Time was here, now it’s gone. What now? Has anything changed?
That’s when I thought of another date: 9/26/73. That was the day that a little boy named Anthony realized he was a sinner and needed Jesus to forgive him. That was the day he knelt beside a little Sunday School room table, and with the help of his dad, prayed to receive Jesus as his Lord and Savior. Everything changed that day.
It was a once-in-an-eternity event.