Is telescoping a word? I doubt it. It's a poor attempt to make a noun into a verb, I'm afraid. I think I live a telescoping life.
I have been thinking about details; specifically, the details of our lives. Whether we make our work inside the home or outside the home, life is full of ordinary details. We have to feed people, wash their clothes, get them to appointments. We have things in the local church that take up time; groups we work with, people we serve and little things that are our responsibility. We can become very focused on the details our lives and forget about the world around us.
I am not a big news hound. I see the headlines, and if something strikes my fancy, I read it. I watch the news regularly. However, I don't have nearly the time to spend contemplating the big issues of the day when there is a dog scratching to come in, a cat whining to be fed, boys whining to be fed, and bible study lessons to prepare for. Sometimes, I feel very ignorant about the world.
The older I get, the more I see there is to learn. There is no way I can possibly keep up. Every so often, I will go off on a tangent, and I will spend a little more time looking at the larger world. I will be like a dog with a bone, and I will read about a topic quite extensively for a while, learn all I can, and then when I realize there is mold growing in the refrigerator, I get back to reality.
My view of the world has to move back into the ordinary, and that's okay with me. This is where God has put me. He has given me this family and these details. They are mine and because He gave them to me, they are good. By the same token, the desire to learn and know more about the world is also a God-given one, and He gives me plenty of opportunity for that, too.
I look at life as through a telescope; sometimes, the view is far and wide, and I see myself as the small little dot in this vast universe. And then, the telescope has to pull back to where I see myself in the centre of my home, managing the many details. I don't know if other people experience this phenomenon. Perhaps my husband does in his own way. He loves news, and he knows a lot about what's going on in the world, but I am pretty sure that he has to pull in his own telescope to look at actuarial reports, auditor's reports and solve the latest human resources crisis. Then, he has to come home and concern himself about the details of being a husband and father; whether or not the garage door opener is working properly, or if the leak under the sink has come back.
We can't escape details and the ordinary. Even the most "famous" person, with the most extraordinary life inevitibaly faces the ordinary. If there were no one ordinary, would we even know what extraordinary was?
There is still a dog who scratches at the door (albeit, a different one), and cats whining to be fed. While the house is empty of children, there are still details. But I still do the telescope thing. The nice thing is that because there are fewer responsibilites, the time for zooming in can last a little longer.