The commercial break is usually the time to stretch your legs and grab another packet of cheese balls. If you have a pre-recorded show the fast forward button is pressed by reflex as soon as the parade of incessant hawkers hits the screen.
But imagine for a moment that you reverse this trend and skip through the meaty sections of scene and plot, to go straight to the fluff and bubble of 'buy one, get one free.' Crazy, right?
Well, I have to confess that I have actually done that on occasion. You see, I work in TV land and those flickering sales pitches actually (on occasion!) hold an interest for me.
Especially when watching an international broadcast, such as live basketball from the USA, I find myself enjoying the ad breaks to see the differences in style and approach.
But, let's be honest, skipping to the commercial break is not what most people do, and anyone who did do it on even a semi-regular basis would seem rather peculiar! But I was struck recently with the idea that if life were a TV show, I would be guilty of skipping the best parts to race through to the commercial break.
Let me explain.
I find myself constantly going to the next thing. It seems my world is a perpetual whirl of busyness that doesn't stop. Around every corner something screams my name, lighting up neon lights that dazzle and sparkle. Every Sunday my friends ask how my week was, and though the specifics change, the simple answer always dumbs down to simply this: 'busy.'
But I think it is mostly busy with flashy trimmings and fleeting amusements, the commercials of the world that offer so much and deliver so little. Each day blends into the next, a constant sprint of entertaining and being entertained. And I fear I've cocooned myself in the heart of a commercial break and skipped the greatest part of the show, the very meaning of life itself.
For outside of the whirlwind of busyness, the thunder of amusement and the steady rain of work is a still small voice that whispers a different narrative. It speaks of a story, a plot, of a purpose for my life that stretches from beyond the stars into the heart of eternity.
While I'm captivated by the sounds and colours of commercials this still small voice is begging me to slow down and listen to the story playing out in my life, the threads of which are intertwined with the greatest story of all, the story of God.
It's easy to give God the leftovers of the week, pushing the Bible into the farthest corner of the calendar, right near the laundry and the kitchen sink. I'll get around to it when I can.
Listening to the still small voice, reflecting on the words, immersing myself in the narrative—it all takes time. Time that I try to condense to as little as possible by summarizing the words, dot-pointing the paragraphs and dropping the chapters onto the cutting room floor till all I'm left with is the bare synopsis of the story, a skeleton of a roadmap to guide my life.
I can't help but think to myself, what am I doing? Why would anyone fast forward the dialogue written by the creator of language, skipping the plot crafted by the architect of creativity? Who would want to miss seeing the threads that weave a tapestry of a plot that climaxes in the heavens?
And yet, I seem willing to trade it for the flash of a commercial.
Thomas Devenish lives in Hobart, Tasmania. He works as a motion designer and enjoys the diverse experiences life has to offer, from wake-boarding to curling up with a good book on a rainy day.
Thomas Devenish's previous articles may be viewed at www.pressserviceinternational.org/thomas-devenish.html