Fortune tellers. They supposedly know fortunes. They supposedly know futures. When I was a kid I loved getting my palm read at carnivals. Much to the dismay of my Momma, who only allowed it to happen one time. Even as a Christian I didn’t put faith in the fortune teller it was fun to hear them and to wonder about the possibilities of their predictions. And of course carnival fortune tellers all have happy endings to their hand readings. Kinda like fortune cookies at a Chinese. (Which by the way, have to be positive or who in their right mind would ever eat at a Chinese buffet again, right?)
For the past year my thoughts and questions about my future have been quite different from those of a 4th grader wondering if they would marry their latest crush. After passing the ole Fortune Teller’s house in Alcoa a few weeks back I thought about their lives. If a fortune teller held real power they nor their loved ones would never know tragedy or at least not much of it. They would be able to see their own and their loved one’s future/fortunes and thus be able to warn to prevent “bad” things from occurring in their life and those they love. Because, who in their right mind, should they know the future, be able to hold it in? If I “knew” the man my daughter was going to marry was going to abuse her I would try my best to prevent that union. If I knew that if my momma didn’t get her mammogram this year that she would die next of advanced breast cancer I would make sure she got that yearly mammogram. If I knew my niece was going to be pregnant by New Year’s how could I withhold the joy?
What unpleasantness would actually befall someone’s life if the eye in the ball knew it all? To always know when or what will happen? Or even to know a ballpark figure that a terrible event would occur. One would be able to thwart the bad of life.
What about the good in life? If one really had power to see the future good to come would be no fun either. Where is the surprise? The good in life, the fun, would just become something else that happens.
I’m glad that the eye in the ball doesn’t see it all. My experiences have at times been tough. But they are who make me who I am. They should not be changed. And the good. I’m glad I could not see the good to come either. There are so rare surprises already in life. The amazement at getting Jason's text "We're pregnant", the excitement of Amber's text "I passed my test", the thrill of Chris's phone call "I won!". I'm so glad I couldn't or someone else couldn't "see" those things to come. I’m so glad God doesn’t work through a ball but through a Book. He knows far better than I on how and when things in my life should unfold.
