a  photo taken while I sat on my front porch this week See the spider? You can’t see its web.

Sometimes I wonder what we might see if our eyes were opened to the things of the Spirit.
A few weeks after we received the diagnosis of brain cancer in our young son, Andrew, I wrote some words on a piece of scrap paper. A few months ago while cleaning out my desk, I found the scrap of paper. I tossed it in the trash.

I had lost my confidence. I began to doubt that what I had written meant anything at all. I had clung to those words for nearly 4 months…from diagnosis to death.

When I found them again, I felt mocked.

A few days ago while running my 3.1 miles, those words came back to me. And it was then I “saw” their value. I wish that I could retrieve the paper with the words. Too late for that.

But the words are still with me – written on my heart.

I am a believer in a personal God. A God who loved us too much to leave us alone. A God who was willing to give of Himself to rescue us from destruction. A God who, in a sense, became flesh colored in order to bridge the great divide between Heaven and Earth.

I am a believer in a God who knows intimately of suffering. A God who is well acquainted with our suffering. A God who speaks to us in varied ways.

A few months ago I tossed aside His words spoken to my heart. I doubted whether they were His words to me. I supposed they were just my own.

A few days ago I “heard” the words again. And I knew. And I know. Again I am clinging to the words. They kept me going last year. And they will keep me going. For every morning and every minute, for every step and every mile, I am that much closer to the realization of those words. Words on a scrap of paper tossed away in hurt. Words now drawn on my heart, tattooed for healing.

They are words that pull me from the pain of the past and ache of the present. They are words that draw me toward the freedom of my future.

They are simple yet profound.

The apostle Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13:12, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.”

Ancient mirrors, which were made in Corinth, were made of metal and gave dim reflections, an illustration of our imperfect knowledge during this age. But knowledge will be full and instantaneous in the future state of glory. (footnote in my Bible)

John writes in 1 John 3:2 “Beloved, now we are children of God; and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.”

I threw away the words because I had clung to them as an assurance that Andrew would be healed and live here with us.
And now, of course, Andrew is healed and alive. But he is not with us. There is an ache and a sadness because we long for him. We miss him. We love him.

The other day I submitted to the tattooing of the words on my heart
because now I understand and cling to those words in a different way.
One day, all wrongs will be righted and all promises will be realized.
And so I will no longer look at what I see but I will see what is coming.

And what is coming is truly glorious! We shall live as we were meant to live before sin rocked our world. We shall see clearly. We shall see Him for who He really is and we shall be known for who we really are.

So for now I will walk this path and run my race as best I can with this earthly vision but I’ll be ever on the lookout for a glimpse of what is to come.

A simple shift of my vantage point, and the sun highlights what I could not see before. See the web now?