As I write, the sounds of heavy
equipment moving earth are constant. The neighbors are putting in a swimming
pool and it’s been an interesting process. When the pool showed up, it came on
a huge truck and a crane lifted it to the front yard. Neighbors were out
watching the proceedings, but from a safe distance as there were power lines to
dodge and the pool had to go through a very tight space. I called other
neighbor children to alert them because when I once told my tween son that a
local hospital had dynamited for a parking deck, my son said in disappointment,
“And you didn’t tell me?”
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The pool delivery was about a
month ago and the pool still sits in its initial location, because after the
site work is done, another even larger crane will have to come and lift the
massive pool over the two-story house. I really hope I don’t have other plans the
day it happens. We plan on lawn chairs and popcorn for that episode.
Anyway, for days now in
preparation, bulldozers have been digging, and dump trucks have been hauling
massive amounts of red clay. It’s been surprising, because in my mind, I
thought our neighbor’s back yard was flat. But it turns out, it’s going to take
a while to get to a flat elevation, and that’s before they start digging the
hole for the pool.
This all goes to living with
something so long, we have one idea about it, when in fact something else entirely
is true.
In the spiritual sense, we can do
this. The words of a hymn come to mind, “Open my eyes that I may see glimpses
of truth thou hast for me.” This has been brought to mind so much in the past
weeks as I’ve been working on a writing project that involves me going through old
journals. From my vantage point today, I can see several cases where my
perceptions were off. In fact, I can’t resist making notations beside the errors
to indicate at what point I understood things differently—when and how God opened my eyes to the truth.
It's
interesting that the hymnwriter chose the phrase “glimpses of truth.” God meets
us where we are, and he shows us what we need to know as we can receive it. Shortly
before Jesus’s arrest and his journey to the cross he told his disciples, “I
have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear.”
God does
use “glimpses of truth” rather than information dumps of truth. We couldn’t
bear it if God told us all we needed to know at one time, but instead he has
sent the Holy Spirit to guide us. In the next verse Jesus says, “But when he,
the Spirt of truth, comes, he will guide you into all truth.” We have a companion
on this journey to help us along—to help us see.
But all of
this begins with being willing for the Lord to open our eyes. And in some cases,
we even need to allow God to first haul off a few dump truck loads of stuff we’re
holding onto.
My neighbor
has told me it’s going to take a minute to get everything finished in their
yard. It will probably take a lifetime for God to finish things up in us.
Next
summer, I hope to hear the joyous sounds of children splashing in water. And one
day in a much greater way, if we allow God to continue to work in us, the
splashes of our joy will know no bounds.
