A new year. A new view.
Literally.
Since I handed over my office to hubby when he came home to work in April, I moved my makeshift office to our living room, then more recently to an upstairs guestroom. On New Year's Eve, I decided to move my portable office to our bedroom. Now my card table with laptop, writing and teaching materials, sits in front of a window facing our back woods.
Already I've witnessed squirrels at play, a beautiful display of fireworks, a coyote ambling through on his way to who knows where, Woody Woodpecker and his smaller cousins, plus a host of other bird varieties, and a rainbow. I thought I'd feel a bit cloistered in my new location. Not yet, anyway. Not with such an amazing view.
That simple switch reminds me that my view, my perspective, on life will be what I choose to make it in this new year.
Many say they are relieved to close the curtain on 2020 with all its trials and chaos, that perhaps things will be different, take a decided turn for the better.
Maybe. "Hope springs eternal," Alexander Pope once wrote.
Yet, in reality, I don't anticipate things getting better, not culturally anyway. But that needn't influence my internal view. I like to call it an eternal view.
It's exciting as a believer in Christ to realize that God's timetable is playing out. That we are closer than ever to Jesus' return.
"Come, Lord Jesus, come!"
Today would be great.
Still, I know there are so many yet to enter into God's mercy, grace, and eternal life provided through Jesus Christ.
So, I pray for God's help as I share Him with those I encounter daily. That He would turn their hearts toward Home.
As I return to 1 Corinthians for my personal study and time with Jesus, I'm reminded that "'no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him,' but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit" (1 Cor. 2:9-10 NIV).
Thank You, God, for revealing Your wisdom of the gospel through Your Spirit to hearts who have received You.
My heart is one of them. And while I don't know every nuance of what You have prepared for Your people, for me, I know what You have revealed through Your Word.
And it is overwhelmingly good stuff! Even now before heaven.
According to Ephesians, chapter one, we're already positionally seated in the heavenlies with You, chosen, holy, forgiven, the praise of Your glory, given peace, lavished upon by the riches of Your grace (I love this one), sealed by Your Spirit until we see You face to face and live forever in Your presence.
Your presence . . .
It is enough just knowing I will finally be with You in person. Whatever bells and whistles heaven provides otherwise is do-da in light of seeing You at last.
I love you, Lord, and even now in my imagination, I see myself kneeling at Your feet, Your hand in mine, kissing Your hand, thanking You for saving me, bringing me safely Home. Then you lift my head, cup my face in Your hands, and with the beam of Your smile brighter than anything I've ever experienced, You lift me up, and I stand as a joint-heir with You. Without you saying anything, I know this is true. Your confidence surges through me in that moment . . .
"You are my glory, and the lifter of my head," David reminds me in Psalm 3:3.
"I am my Beloved's and he is mine," as Chuck and I have delved deeply into since early September with our methodical, rich and sweet time in the Song of Solomon. How that love letter from God has nourished our couple relationship and our individual relationships with Jesus. What a precious poetic call to slow down, take time and care with these vital relationships.
So, yes, the view out my window is fun, even spectacular at times, but it can't compare to what God in Christ has accomplished in my heart and the plan He has for my future with Him.
This God-given view creates hope that does indeed spring eternal! For me, and all who take hold of life in Christ, that eternal view will make 2021 worth living.
