That little “news” (so-called) sidebar in Facebook told me today that SanDisk has developed a prototype 1 terabyte (TB) SD card.
That’s more storage than you probably have on your computer hard drive. And it’s WAY more storage than the SD card you’re using in your phone, game system, or camera. The largest capacity SD card that I own is only 64 GB.
This kind of news used to surprise me. I’d shake my head and think, “Man! How do they do that?!”
I came from the era of computers that used cassette tape drives and 5.25″ floppy disks. We bought our first hard drive in the mid-80’s—a whopping 10 megabytes. My dad and I were astonished: “How will we ever FILL this thing?” We thought we’d have enough storage to last a lifetime.
But now 10 megabytes is a single digital photograph or a couple of MP3 files.
In the 1990s, you had to write your own code if you wanted a website. You had to learn HTML, CSS, maybe some Javascript as well. Now all you need is a few minutes in Facebook, Squarespace, or WordPress and you’re set. Uber and Google are working on self-driving cars.
Technology progresses and sometimes it’s interesting but it’s not amazing any more. It no longer creates a sense of wonder or mystery.
You know what’s amazing to me now?
The sound of crickets throughout the entire day. I hear them as I walk around the LCU campus in the afternoon.
The variety of trees, birds, and flowers that inhabit and flourish in this small patch of central Illinois that I call home.
The color of the morning sunlight as it falls across the houses and buildings in my neighborhood at this time of year. I see it when I walk my children to school in the morning.
A clever turn of a musical phrase or lyric in a poem, story, or song. The work of artists and writers like Andrew Peterson, Andrew Osenga, Mark Heard, Frederick Buechner, Walter Wangerin, Luci Shaw, Flannery O’Connor, Eugene Peterson, Issa, and Lee Gurga (I could go on)—that’s the stuff that changes the way I see the world and gives me deep satisfaction.
A kind act or an encouraging word, gently spoken. In a world of cynics and naysayers, those seemingly small acts and quiet words have great power.
And the grace of God amazes me. I see it in the Gospels as Jesus touches outcasts—lepers, the blind and deaf and afflicted. People on the outside, those who aren’t in the “in” cliques, who lack country club connections—these are the ones Jesus goes after.
Technology is useful (sometimes). But it’s always changing and it’s always promising something better. The “better,” though, is usually just faster or more. And faster or more isn’t always better—it’s an empty promise.
It’s not amazing any more.
Pay attention to the small things. The sounds and colors around us, the feel of the wind, the rhythm of conversation—those, truly, are amazing.