Raging Waters

The Greek poet Homer, speaking through the mouth of Odysseus, once proclaimed, “Tomorrow we embark on the boundless sea!” Since the beginning of time, the sea has captivated everyone who dares come near to it. Just another body of water one might think, but who can drink from it? Just another surface area, but who can cross it? Who can control the sea? Who can bind it? Jeremiah, the Hebrew prophet tells us, God can. He has placed the sand as the boundaries of the sea. Amazing, sand, such a small thing, nevertheless, it binds the sea. And so we see the nature of God. It is not just that His ways are higher than our ways, but really, His ways are not our ways.

But the beautiful thing about all this, is that He paints pictures for us to let us know who He is and what He is like. For example, the sea. In Revelations chapter 4 we see another beautiful picture of who God is. It is a picture of a throne, with a rainbow surrounding it. Who can place a limit on the unending sea? Who can set a boundary on God’s justice through love and mercy? God alone. And in what a beautiful way He has done it. God is just, He is the Almighty. And is pure and He is righteous. His throne is the throne is the sovereign throne, the throne of judgment. Yet, around it we find the rainbow, His promise of mercy. And so He binds Himself with His own oath.

The writer of Hebrews tells us exhorts us to draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. And it is in our times of need that we find the throne of God, ultimately a throne of majesty and power, but surrounded by His promise of grace. God’s love and mercy is the delicate embroidery in the fabric of our lives. Woven throughout the daily needs. The more we draw near, the richer the tapestry of our lives.

Seeing?

At the start of the twentieth century, in the year 1910 to be exact, an eight-year-old boy who had been blind from birth underwent surgery to remove cataracts that until then, prevented him from entering and enjoying the world of light as we know it. The two French surgeons responsible for this declared the surgery a success. Their hearts fell, however, when they removed his bandages and asked him what he saw. “I don’t know,” he replied. Apparently, he could only discern an improved degree of brightness. It was not until he was allowed to reach out and grasp the moving hand in front of him that he declared, “It is moving!”
This early experiment on eye surgery speaks volumes about what we consider as sight. How does sight and the understanding of what is seen occur? Do we see just because we have eyes that are beautiful and function perfectly? Apparently not. Is observation enough for perception and understanding? And beyond these questions of physical sight are the issues of vision. Vision on a spiritual level. Vision that can traverse time and bring us to an understanding of who we are and our role in eternity. Vision that can demarcate for us what is real from God’s perspective, and what is fading. Vision that breathes hope into our future, vision that brings to life our now, and vision that gives meaning to the past. The content, height, length, breadth, and depth of our vision defines and determines our life and the quality of our existence. It is vision that ultimately sets us at the feet of wisdom. It all depends on what we see.
But where do we find vision? And where does it start? It starts with a removal of cataracts that we have been born with. Blind since birth. A blindness not of our doing. A blindness that has no recourse within ourselves. God, by His grace, removes our cataracts, and we can see. But not clearly. The room brightens, but it is a far cry from vision. Vision comes to us in a grand coupling of eyesight, experience, and the Spirit of God enlightening us. We begin to see light. Through experience, we gain understanding. Jesus opens our eyes a bit more, and we see a bit more, and we experience a bit more. And Jesus opens our eyes a bit more. And so the cycle goes. Until through our daily faithfulness and following, we gain sight. It is not an easy thing, this following. Experience comes through blood, sweat, tears, and determination. The alternative is what Helen Keller tells us, “the only thing that is worse than being blind is having sight but no vision.” While we are able, let it be our determination to go beyond sight to vision. Let it be our vision to not just understand Jesus and His vision, but to be wholly consumed. Until from glory to glory, we are made to be like Him.