Right now I'm going to do my best to describe the current view outside my window. There are trees. Big ones. On one half of the scene, there is blue sky and white, puffy, weak, easily-blown away, wispy transparent clouds. On the other half there is what seems to me one huge gray cloud. No blue skies to speak of, no white puffiness, no transparency. Just gray thickness. The trees toward the left side of this scene past my window are bright green, and due to the sun light hitting it from the East, they have taken on this sort of back-lit, staged beauty. The plants and shrubbery on the other side, however, are not lit up. They look dull. They are just green. Not bright green or brightly-lit like their relatives only feet away.
In my amazing wisdom and creative mindfulness, it took me like five minutes to relate this scene to my spiritual life. As the onlooker behind the window, I represent the world: a place full of unknowing, often uncaring non-believers who see me from the outside in. They see what I saw of my backyard: partly sunny and bright with Jesus' light making me look beautiful, and the other part just a blah gray thickness.
I don't think anyone, besides maybe my brother, really considers me a moody individual, but sometimes, I feel like I am half and half and sometimes, a little too often, I think it shows. All in the same day, I will experience God's tangible passion and desire for me to thrive and be blessed and make fishers of men and feel spiritually empty and wort... no, not worthless... purposeless.
How dare I, someone who has been blessed beyond belief, compare myself to this torn, confused image of nature?
Well... I am human after all. I know this might be awful to say, but almost everyday I find myself questioning how it could be this good. Then, two seconds later I inevitably slap myself in the face because I know the answer. Duh.
The point is, I need to make sure that I understand two things. The first, is that God made us human. Ever since Adam and the garden, we have been somewhat prone to shortcomings. And by "somewhat prone" I mean infinitely. God made me a questioning human being with free will, so it is only natural, that even after God's presence has been made so clear and abundant in my life, I will question it's validity. Second, I need to understand how to show the Joces behind the windows, the onlookers of the world, that although I am often brightly lit on one side and gray and dreary on the other, I am still loved unconditionally by my Savior. If I can learn how to convey that on a daily basis, no matter what my spiritual status or mood is, I will certainly relate to a lot more people.
Oh, hey would you look at that? I'm looking out the window right now and the sun, or Son, has just taken over. Goodbye, gray thickness. Praise God.
Just a verse I stumbled upon recently:
From the rising of the sun to the place
where it sets, the name of the Lord
is to be praised.
Psalm 113:3
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