Often when I see only a glimpse of a scene, or a reflection in glass, it strikes me
as a doorway to another world—a magical place I long to go. The same sort of feeling a favorite book does for me—like Heidi taking me up the Swiss Alps, or Ash and Anjuli-Bai from Far Pavilions whisking me off to long-ago India.
From my living room couch I can look into my kitchen and see the glass door to the pantry. This is often what I see when I’m having my devotions, while I have a cup of tea in my hand, the dog at my feet, and the cat at my side.
From this cozy spot I can either look through the window to the backyard trees, or glance at the glass pantry door and see not the real trees and shrubs, but a reflection moving in the breeze.
In case you haven’t realized, there’s a strong streak of imagination to my inner person. You’d never know it when you look at me, though. On the outside, no one could be more banal, prosaic, or no-nonsense. In the Lord’s dealings with me, most decisions boil down to good old common sense. But this dream-like aspect to my soul colors a great deal of my relationship with the Lord.
This is not to say my faith is airy-fairy. Christ’s atoning death on the cross couldn’t be more logical.
God the Father is perfect Justice . . . and
Humanity broke God’s laws . . . therefore
Someone had to pay the penalty.
No human court of law could get more down to earth than this need to set things right. That truth, and my acceptance of what Christ did for me, is as real as the silver birch in my backyard.
But the fact that the Son of God set aside His glory to come to dusty old earth to make that sacrifice, sky rockets that event into the supernatural, the unexplainable—something only an omnipotent God could come up with.
When I sit on the corner of my couch with my cup of tea and my Bible, my eye leaves the reality of my backyard and strays more often to the reflection in the glass. Sunlight dances on the snow, throwing out flashes of color. The scene in the glass shows me a familiar place, yet not quite. My inner walking with the God of my Bible draws me to think far and above, to break free from mere
common sense to the…enchanting.
Like the poets say—to chance…to dream. Do we humans stop ourselves from taking great leaps of faith because we would rather cling to the down-to-earth when our hearts hunger to soar for the impossible?
Colossians 3:1 "Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God."