this all-surpassing power Is from God and not from us.
2 Corinthians 4:7
Waiting in the car for my husband to make a quick purchase at a store, I was full of self-pity. Why couldn’t I go inside and get lost in shelf after shelf of the materials with which my dreams would be built? Why couldn’t I go in and pour over paint colors and materials to kick my imagination into high gear for another project? Why did I have to have a sprained back and stay off my feet here in the car? When was it ever going to heal?
Having nothing else to do, I watched people go in and out of the store. It was then that I saw them.
They were an elderly couple walking slowly. He was short and wore khaki pants and a brown jacket. She was large and had on purple sweatpants and a flowered blouse. His hair was grey. Hers was brown, though her face showed that many years had passed since that had been her natural color. She had a cane, which she leaned on, as she carefully stepped down the walk. He held her arm and helped her as she walked.
One step. Another. Then another.
As they came closer our car, the woman looked down to scout out her next step. Her bent head revealed a large bald spot, like a monk in centuries gone by. Otherwise attractive, the hairstyle only framed her face and neck. The rest of her head was devoid of hair!
I thought, “Oh poor woman! How horrible that must be!”
I watched them, fascinated by the bald spot that was by now quite visible. What would I do if that were me? How painful for her that must be!
But her face was one of tranquility, as she and her husband walked between cars a row over from me. The walking process continued to be slow. The bald spot continued to shine. But she possessed the countenance of one fully content with life. I wondered why.
As if he were holding on to a treasured Stradivarius, the old gentleman held her arm and guided her. There was no doubt that he held her in high esteem, as he aided her in her arduous struggle to make it across the parking lot to the car. He would steal a glance at her now and then, with a look of admiration. In his mind he was not helping an elderly, almost bald woman across a parking lot. He was escorting a homecoming queen out onto the field, as she was making her promenade before the rest of the school. She was his girl. And his love made her feel beloved and special.
And then it dawned on me. This is how God sees us. We limp through life, wounded by our own decisions that cripple us and make us struggle. Things happen to us that are just part of living in this world so deeply occupied by the enemy of God. We have “bald spots,” so to speak. Created to be a beautiful reflection of Him, we instead look rather war-weary and used.
But, like the elderly man gazed at his aged wife, God looks at us, His children through eyes of love.He knows we are just “jars of clay,” yet He fills us with His Spirit. He is the treasure within us. Because we have chosen to be washed clean with the blood of His Son, we appear before him pure and spotless. He doesn’t see us as limping or shrink back in horror at our bald spots. We are beloved to Him.
We can walk through tough circumstances with serenity. We, like the elderly lady, can have a look of utter contentment, a life of utter contentment. And all because God gazes at us, His beloved children, with eyes of love.
As my husband returned to the car, I realized I had forgotten about my agony over my back pain. I had lost my self-pity. Instead, I felt a rich, deep sense of peace, the kind only God can give.
No comments:
Post a Comment