The Greater Epic of Life

I wasn’t very impressed with the light house. The one they say is the most photographed light house on the central Oregon coast. Yeah, that one. I wasn’t impressed.

I was much more into the creepy path that led up the side of the hill to the light house and the gorgeous rocky beach below. I was even more into the segment of the river that runs into the ocean. I actually found the Tsunami warning sign at the base of the hill to be of greater amusement.

The whole thing was really quite anti-climactic; walking along the beach, then up the little hillside path over looking the ocean, and finally up to the top where a rather unspectacular, dingy-white light house stood plainly next to an old, dirty outhouse.

Maybe it was all the hype that killed it for me.

I find that happens quite often. I get caught up in the whirlwind of hype that creates a buzz I get high on. It’s a total rush getting there. And then I’m there, and it’s not. The excitement, the rush, the high; it’s not there at all.

It’s like the most amazingly gorgeous guy I spend hours prepping for, only to get to the first date and find him scarcely half way attractive and completely unsociable. The long awaited day off that ends up being filled with boredom and laziness. Spending years slaving over a bachelor degree that I am positive will land me the killer job, just to end up bagging groceries at the local Safeway.

(Okay, that hasn’t happened yet but I am already anticipating the great rise and fall. Optimism pumps through my veins.)

Giving it more thought, I am noticing that I enjoy the smaller things, the less than fantastic moments, the journey leading to… more than the arrival itself. I wonder what it would be like if I could get rid of the arrivals altogether. What if life was just a continuous anticipation of something great?

Maybe that is why people stay in school forever. They get one degree after another after another because they know that as soon as that degree is put in the fancy frame and hung up on the wall, the drive is gone. The motivation to get somewhere better, to become something more, to work just a little harder is gone. Sometimes arrival sucks the exhilaration right out of a person.

I am struck, amidst this thought, by a line recently penned by Donald Miller in which he refers to life as a great epic and talks about God creating us as characters in this great epic. I have studied the art of story telling for the greater part of my life, albeit a youthful one yet. And I am awed that all these arrivals, the happy endings, the fantastic conclusions, the unexpected twists at the end of the book could not be and are in fact built upon the details of the plot, the journey, the moments in between the beginning and the end.

Marked by mere moments – tragic moments, missed moments, defining moments, refining moments – is the plot of a great epic. At some point the epic ends, life ends, you and I will end. But the moments, as a collective legend, will remain. It is a story marred by all that was you.

So take hold of the anticipation, join in the hype that carries you into the next moment, relish in that which leads up to… and never hope to finally arrive. Today is crafting another defining narrative and weaving us into the greater epic of life.