The Window Whenever I fly, I always choose the window seat. The view one gets while flying has always fascinated me. Whether cloudy or clear, the sweeping, uninterrupted vistas that unfold before one’s eyes are mesmerizing at times; it always makes me wonder if God’s view is something akin to this. This weekend I will be flying. My flight is a short one, but I will still sit by the window—even if it’s only for about an hour. My upcoming trip got me to thinking about an experience I had, not too long ago, on another very short flight. I was seated on the plane (by the window, of course), and we were out on the runway, waiting to be cleared for take-off. It was at that moment that I noticed a curious phenomenon as I looked out the plane windows. We had just recently had a large storm system pass through, and the sun was just beginning to break through the gloom—but only on MY side of the plane. The view outside of MY window was clear and sunny and beautiful; but outside the opposite window of the plane, I could see only dark clouds and stormy skies. It was like experiencing night and day at the same time; fascinating, but also a bit disquieting. As I appreciated both views that I was afforded, it set me to thinking about how much each of our lives are just this way: filled with light and shadow, joy and sorrow, clarity and uncertainty. And I thought to myself, how often we experience these feelings of hopefulness and despair simultaneously, just as I was experiencing physical sunshine and darkness at the same time, sitting in my airplane seat. As we taxied to the runway I realized that I had a choice which view I would look at during the flight. I could focus on the window that afforded a bright and cheery view, or the one that was ominous and dark. As I heard the roar and felt the thrust of the engines as we took off, I realized that we all have a choice which window to look out of in our lives. You see, it didn’t ultimately matter which window I looked out of on that flight; my plane was going to Los Angeles no matter what. So it is in all our lives. Our earthly life’s final destination is not determined by what we see or feel along the way, but we have a choice in the manner and attitude in which we make the trip. All roads lead to physical death, and along that road we will experience good and bad, kindness and hurtfulness—that we cannot change. But we are in control of which window we choose to look out of on our journey—will we spend our journey dwelling on the gloomy vista? Or will we focus on the bright and pleasant views, and leave the dark and ominous areas to God? “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” [Philippians 4:11-13] The Apostle Paul chose to look out the window that held no darkness; he chose to look out the window that held hope, the same hope we all have in Christ Jesus. If we can learn to do the same, we can avoid some of the worry and anxiety that we experience when darkness is our focus. “When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” [John 8:12] In this life, we all have window seats. Each of those seats has two windows available to look out of: one that shows us light, the other darkness. Do we want to live in the light, or in the darkness? Which window are you looking out of? Paul Seely, January 29, 2012 |