There is much that we could get worked up about.
It doesn’t take special insight to know that this world is twisted, broken, oftentimes ugly.
But briefly there are glimpses of justice. Not much, but enough to remind us of perfect justice to come.
Briefly, there are glimpses of beauty. Never enough to quench our thirst, but enough to remind us of beauty beyond our imagining.
Briefly, you might glimpse like a shifting shadow out of the corner of the eye – an echo of Eden. A reminder that God has not cast us off.
An ethereal tune that you can’t quite catch, but it causes deep sighs of longing.
A touch of a lover that reminds you that you are desired
A shimmer of a cool breeze with the hint of jasmine that reminds you of spring
The hint of another country never traveled
The whisper of citrus and plum and berry on the nose of the wine…
The grandkids are laughing.
When you look at the glimpses from one angle, you might be tempted to think that they are God, rather than gifts of his bounty.
You miss the good because you are always searching for the better.
But from another angle, you might miss those glimpses because you are too angry that the world isn’t what it is supposed to be.
So the jasmine goes by unnoticed.
The music goes unheard because you don’t like her politics.
The wine isn’t French or Napa so you miss its bouquet…
You’re too afraid of lust to notice that her hair is shimmering in the sunlight.
You’re too afraid of catching sin to smile and be kind.
You miss the joy of the kids because you demanded idols to justify your wisdom and strength, and instead you got kids with their own minds who mystify you.
Don’t miss the joy. Don’t miss the beauty.
It isn’t God. But it is from God.
It points to God.
Jesus will come again and when the marriage supper of the lamb is served it will be perfect.
Justice will be perfect. Beauty will be perfect. Contentment will be perfect.
Fellowship will be perfect.
So smile. Listen to that beautiful music. Sit and smell the jasmine. It fades quickly.
The whispers go away quickly. We fade and die. But He remembers our frailty…
So teach us to number our days.
My Only Comfort 