We have a tendency to want to shrink God down to understandable, manageable human size, thinking we can contain Him within our own hopes and dreams. But He remains unconfined, free from any restrictions placed on Him by our finite minds.
If anything speaks to me of God’s infinite glory and majesty, then skies definitely do. Because how can we view an ever-changing panorama of colour, sunsets soaked in shades of vermillion, clouds threaded with indigo-violet and tinged with tangerine, without marvelling at the Hand that made it happen?
It certainly cuts us down to size when we compare ourselves and our human achievements to the fathomless mystery of Holy God and a vast universe. What an invitation to raise our eyes heavenward! What a revelation of God’s goodness and grace seen in our everyday ordinary.
We are designed to fly, to soar and rise above our earthly circumstances, and we only achieve it by looking up to God, seeking His face as often as we need to. He alone can provide all the help and grace we need.
As I think about what a gift it is to have sight, to be able to appreciate all that is poured out before us, I ponder: Maybe the secret kernel at the heart of joy is in the looking up? Maybe having eyes cast down, heart heavy with worry and anxiety, face creased into a frown, makes us too earthbound?
In the healing of Blind Bartimeus (found in Mark 10: 46-52), Jesus asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimeus answers, “Rabboni, that I may receive my sight.” And ‘anablepo’ — which is the word for “to receive sight”, when literally translated in the Greek — means: “I want to be up-looking.”
It makes us wonder at all he missed in being blind, and how much we, too, can neglect to see properly, even with perfectly functioning eyes. Our physical eyesight might be acute but our inner spiritual vision can remain blurred, distorted by wearing worldly lenses.
In this request to Jesus, Bartimeus is displaying not only a desire to be able to view the world around him with open eyes, but also a spiritual hunger to have a God-given perspective, an upwardly mobile gaze that takes in far more than human eyes can see.
The poem below (originally shared in the Association of Christian Writers (ACW) ‘Christian Writer’ magazine) reveals different ways of seeing.
Watch the Wind
I watch autumnal leaves
scattered in the street
They remind me of the way
I too am curled small inside
dying a death to flesh
And as they bow
to wild wind’s will
in its arms
I too am lifted up
above the daily grind
into the joy
of a sacred dance
*Note* – a God-given, inspiring germ idea which birthed this post came from my dear friend, Laurie Klein. You can visit her site by clicking here. I think you’ll love it as much as I do. She’s an amazingly gifted writer, poet and photographer.
Welcome to #day29 of #write31days journeying into joy. I’m so glad you are here!
How do you view being upward looking in life and faith? Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below.