Talking to Daddy

When my friends and I were in junior high, we heard about this crazy, futuristic invention called a TV-telephone. In the creator’s wildest dreams, you could actually see the person you were talking to on the phone. This idea worried us. I mean, what if it rang while you had your hair in rollers? Or, even worse, what if a friend called while you were in the bathroom???!!!

You have to understand that we were only a few birthdays past the crank telephones that hung on our living room walls. Sudie Bledsoe had only recently retired from her job as switchboard operator and human answering machine. Nobody had a private line. Not even Doc Woody. If you wanted to make a call, you had to wait until all the neighbors were done chatting with one another and the line was clear. If you were in a hurry, like when my brother was asking his future wife on a first date, you yelled at the other party to Please Hang Up!

Now we have Face Time and Skype and Google Chat. Beam Me Up, Scottie may not be far behind.

My point today is this: Forty years ago, we could not imagine these wonders. They were as surreal to us as a City with streets of gold and a life that never ends. That thought comforts me when I have trouble imagining Heaven. Of course, I can’t fathom the concept. Because, I’m not there yet. When I arrive, my questions from this side of the veil will seem as silly as whether or not to answer the TV-phone in the bathroom.