I have always appreciated it when people and things are reborn, raised from the dead, cleaned of impurities and restored to the way they were created. Or I thought I liked these things, until it happened to my computer.
In all of the lovely renewal, I forgot that things first have to die. My computer was sweet enough to remind of this by illustration, and crashing last night. "Restored to factory settings" it said. My computer went and got redeemed. NO!
I had backed it up partially in November, and so it was not a total loss...yet.... almost 100 stories/drafts, 1,000's of pictures, and every last song I own have simply ceased to exist. Accompanying them on their journey to nothingness was my photoshop, Microsoft office, iTunes, messenger, and all of my college application and scholarship essays. It would be nice to say that I was mildly frustrated, yet remembered that these are "just things" and continued on my gentle way, but I didn't. I intermittently cried my self to sleep, or wept myself to morning, depending on how you look at it.
I was jolted into sympathetic placement with Jonah, who cried over the death of his shady plant instead of crying out for the people that God said were going to perish.
" But God said to Jonah, 'Do you have a right to be angry about the vine?'
'I do," he said. "I am angry enough to die.' "
This is about how I felt last night. I was, in fact, mostly convinced that the universe owed me a functioning, reliable computer.
"But the LORD said, 'You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?' "
"Yes..." is my begrudging answer. This whole "things are things, not that important" bit consistently tangles me up. It would be lovely to say I've learned my lesson, and that I shall never again fall into a fit of angry tears about technology being its flawed and imperfect self. However, I keep finding myself in the same, imperfect boat attempting to realign my way with God's gentle reminders. I mean, yes. It's a computer, not a human, not even an animal.
I worry to much about the wrong things not being saved: things like computer files, and my skin. God, he knows these things aren't a bit deal. He wants concern of a different kind. Everybody dies, and computers do too.
It was a reminder -albeit a not so enjoyable one- of this tiny, essential truth: I don't have a RIGHT to anything (not even a life). I've been gifted, and sometimes the Lord taketh away so that my head can get screwed back into it's proper perspective.
In all of the lovely renewal, I forgot that things first have to die. My computer was sweet enough to remind of this by illustration, and crashing last night. "Restored to factory settings" it said. My computer went and got redeemed. NO!
I had backed it up partially in November, and so it was not a total loss...yet.... almost 100 stories/drafts, 1,000's of pictures, and every last song I own have simply ceased to exist. Accompanying them on their journey to nothingness was my photoshop, Microsoft office, iTunes, messenger, and all of my college application and scholarship essays. It would be nice to say that I was mildly frustrated, yet remembered that these are "just things" and continued on my gentle way, but I didn't. I intermittently cried my self to sleep, or wept myself to morning, depending on how you look at it.
I was jolted into sympathetic placement with Jonah, who cried over the death of his shady plant instead of crying out for the people that God said were going to perish.
" But God said to Jonah, 'Do you have a right to be angry about the vine?'
'I do," he said. "I am angry enough to die.' "
This is about how I felt last night. I was, in fact, mostly convinced that the universe owed me a functioning, reliable computer.
"But the LORD said, 'You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?' "
"Yes..." is my begrudging answer. This whole "things are things, not that important" bit consistently tangles me up. It would be lovely to say I've learned my lesson, and that I shall never again fall into a fit of angry tears about technology being its flawed and imperfect self. However, I keep finding myself in the same, imperfect boat attempting to realign my way with God's gentle reminders. I mean, yes. It's a computer, not a human, not even an animal.
I worry to much about the wrong things not being saved: things like computer files, and my skin. God, he knows these things aren't a bit deal. He wants concern of a different kind. Everybody dies, and computers do too.
It was a reminder -albeit a not so enjoyable one- of this tiny, essential truth: I don't have a RIGHT to anything (not even a life). I've been gifted, and sometimes the Lord taketh away so that my head can get screwed back into it's proper perspective.
Factory settings