Perspectives

January/February 2008

3:48am. That’s what time it was when God spoke. At the very top right corner of the large screen in the front of the plane was a digital clock. Underneath it was a map with clear illustrations of the continents and oceans we were flying over. A miniature airplane with a red line following it charted our progress across the world. We were somewhere in between London and Johannesburg; that’s all I knew for sure. I was very excited about getting to Africa to see a land I’d only known in pictures; I admit the flight had been quite enjoyable. With a house filled with small children, ringing phones, dinner dishes and an unending to-do list, I was captivated by the stillness and uninterrupted silence that this flight was providing for me. When my husband first told me that we’d probably spend about 20 hours in the air, I was pleased and thankful for a long block of time with no demands, interruptions or loud noises. Now, hours into our trip, I was relishing every moment.

The cabin was completely quiet. There were no noises except for the occasional clacking of the stewardess’ heels. My husband had just downed his last cup of hot tea and was now nestled under the thin-airline-issued blanket. The sun had long taken its leave from the western sky, offering a golden sealed invitation to rest for those aboard the massive bird. The night sky looked like a thick velvety blanket with tiny sequence glistening in starlight glory. I knew I should sleep to prepare my body for the time change that would meet us upon arrival but I couldn’t. I was enjoying these moments too much. The silence was too engaging and offered me a unique opportunity to fully embrace every still second. How glad I am that I didn’t fall asleep right then, and that my eyelids stayed upright until 3:48am, because that’s what time it was when God spoke.

I watched the sky for a while and talked to the Father. Our conversation was rich; how could it not be in a position like this one, enveloped in the very nape of the glory of God. The galaxies seem to beckon me to worship him, to commune with Him and to let Him speak to me in a unique way. I sat. I talked. I worshipped. I listened and then … He spoke. Not audibly but obviously.

At 3:47, we entered a tuft of clouds as the pilot began ascending to a different altitude. We were lost in the thick blanket of billowing whiteness for only a few seconds, and when the plane burst out of the other side … I was blinded. The sun that had been unseen and unknown just moments before shaded by the cloud cover was now fully exposed. The wings of the spacious sky carried the brilliance of each robust ray of light; delivering each color of the spectrum into the oval windows beside each row. The sun was shining with blinding opulence. I picked up my hand and moved them over my eyes. I had no choice but to turn my head away and look the other direction. My gaze into the plane lasted long enough to notice several passengers closing their window shades. And that’s when I saw it … the clock.

3:48am

How could it be 3 o’clock in the morning. Hours so close to midnight had never looked like this before. I’d heard tales of the dwellers of the artic experiencing this type of phenomenon but had never thought that I’d ever see the wee hours like this. Was anyone else as captivated as I was? I didn’t know yet I was completely floored by the appearance of 3:48am from this vantage point.

I guess how you see midnight hours all depends on the perspective from which you take it in.

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Perspectives. What’s yours regarding your husband? Your children? Your mother? Your job? Your house? Today? Tomorrow? I admit that there have been entire seasons of my life that have carried the typical darkness that the 3am time frame normally depicts. From my vantage point, single-hood was too long, then marriage too hard and children too much work. From this angle, ministry is laborious and the details of life too meticulous and demanding.  Isn’t that what the cloud cover of discontentment always does? Looking at life from this angle always seems to lend itself to the darkest possible version.

So we sit, in the dark, thinking that life will get brighter when circumstances change. We are completely unaware that the glorious beauty of God’s plan and purposes are displayed even when … especially when darkness is on the flip side.

So what do we say to…

The woman whose husband has revealed his affair

              The husband who’s loving an alcoholic wife

                            The parent whose child was lost in an accident

                                          The worker whose inbox just received a pink slip

                                               The newlywed whose doctor just reported the

                                                impossibility of pregnancy

                                     The teenager who’s not wanted in the clique                                                 The pastor whose new building has burned to the ground

                The woman who births a special needs child

                            Or

The friend that just found out she’s been betrayed in the worst possible way

Why did God … how could God have allowed it? Really, there is no rational answer. It is one that we’ll most likely never know on earth.  So until we see Him face-to-face, we must turn our perspective to take in the best possible view of these opaque days, to see them from God’s vantage point and relish in His work within the wee hours.

Mary knew about the dark. That’s what it was when she arrived at the tomb on the first day of the week (John 20:1). From this perspective, there was no possible horror that could be imagined other than the one she was beholding. For in front of her lay a tomb that was empty. The stone had been rolled away and her Lord was not there. She wept in anguish (John 20:11) and longed for that which it seemed she could not have. But then she heard her name, “Mary.” Her name only rolled off of the tongue in that way from One person. And so, “She turned around … ” (John 20:14).

She turned around …

              She turned … around …

Her gaze brought her face-to-face with the brilliance and the beauty of the risen Christ. What had just been an emptiness was made full with one small but deliberate movement. A simple change of perspective. . . changed her life.

This day, precious believer, I ask you to turn around; to turn your face away from the empty and to the full, away from the dark and to the blinding light. I pray that God calls your name with such sweetness and authority in the midst of the darkness that you will not be able to help but see His face in your circumstances. May we be lifted by the wings of the Spirit through the clouds of contempt and complacency so that our eyes behold the greatest of this day and the rest of our lives. AMEN