I thought about that today when I picked up John Ortberg's book "It All Goes Back in the Box." About how seeing things from a different perspective can give us a better understanding of what's really going on. Ortberg uses playing board games as his analogy, particularly playing Monopoly as a kid with his aging grandmother who had no pity on him just because he was a kid (sound familiar, Ann?) When he finally beats her, he wants to spend a lot of time relishing the victory, maybe bronzing the board to commemorate the act. But all his grandmother says is, "Okay, now it all goes back in the box."
Can you work this out? At the end of the game, does it really matter who wins or loses, because it all goes back in the box? At the end of the game, what's really important? If we could develop that perspective on the game of our existence--hey, at the end, it all goes back in the box, all the achievements, all the things, all the status, all the money, even all the losing, all the pain--if we could get that eternal perspective, the eternal 3-D so to speak, how would it change the way we look at what's important in our lives? I've got to believe that how we invest our time, heck how we invest our very selves, would change if we caught just a glimpse of that. What is it that I consider so important right now that one day is just going to go back in the box?
It's old, but it's poignant--no one ever says on their death bed, "I wish I could have spent more time at the office."
Anyone up to seeing Avatar in 3-D?