A Dim Reflection
1 Corinthians 13:12 (Amplified Bible)
12For now we are looking in a mirror that gives only a dim (blurred) reflection [of reality as [a]in a riddle or enigma], but then [when perfection comes] we shall see in reality and face to face! Now I know in part (imperfectly), but then I shall know and understand [b]fully and clearly, even in the same manner as I have been [c]fully and clearly known and understood [[d]by God].
It was late afternoon as he stood at the upstairs window looking out at our big backyard and the girls of 10 and 11 down below, granddaughters, playing in the snow. He had been drawn to the window by the sound of their laughter. He loved them so much, and he took every opportunity to tell them so.
Suddenly he thought, "What am I doing up here watching through a window?" A few seconds later he was putting on his coat and gloves and making his way outside to join them.
He played outside with them for an hour, this husband of mine, almost 62 years old. But when he decided to try the ice slide they had made, the girls came running over with concern that he would get hurt.
"I used to do this all the time when I was young," he said.
"Yes, but now you are old, and you might hurt yourself," they said.
Ah, the honesty of children! They leave you with no illusions.
When Paul recounted the story, I saw the heart of our Father in his love for the girls. God didn't stand far away and watch us from a distance, but came to our world, to be with us. His love compelled him just as Paul's did.
Had the girls looked up at the window, before he came downstairs, they would have seen his dim shadow, just like the description in 1 Corinthians 13:12 of the reflection in the mirror.
A few days ago Paul shared a thought about that verse that was interesting. He connected it with the Jewish custom of covering mirrors during a seven day period of mourning; a ritualized period, called Shiva. When the days of mourning are over, the veil is removed.
One day that will be true for us, the time of mourning, pain, sickness and troubles will be over, the veil will be removed and we will see clearly, face to face, a Father whose love for us is beyond compare.
12For now we are looking in a mirror that gives only a dim (blurred) reflection [of reality as [a]in a riddle or enigma], but then [when perfection comes] we shall see in reality and face to face! Now I know in part (imperfectly), but then I shall know and understand [b]fully and clearly, even in the same manner as I have been [c]fully and clearly known and understood [[d]by God].
It was late afternoon as he stood at the upstairs window looking out at our big backyard and the girls of 10 and 11 down below, granddaughters, playing in the snow. He had been drawn to the window by the sound of their laughter. He loved them so much, and he took every opportunity to tell them so.
Suddenly he thought, "What am I doing up here watching through a window?" A few seconds later he was putting on his coat and gloves and making his way outside to join them.
He played outside with them for an hour, this husband of mine, almost 62 years old. But when he decided to try the ice slide they had made, the girls came running over with concern that he would get hurt.
"I used to do this all the time when I was young," he said.
"Yes, but now you are old, and you might hurt yourself," they said.
Ah, the honesty of children! They leave you with no illusions.
When Paul recounted the story, I saw the heart of our Father in his love for the girls. God didn't stand far away and watch us from a distance, but came to our world, to be with us. His love compelled him just as Paul's did.
Had the girls looked up at the window, before he came downstairs, they would have seen his dim shadow, just like the description in 1 Corinthians 13:12 of the reflection in the mirror.
A few days ago Paul shared a thought about that verse that was interesting. He connected it with the Jewish custom of covering mirrors during a seven day period of mourning; a ritualized period, called Shiva. When the days of mourning are over, the veil is removed.
One day that will be true for us, the time of mourning, pain, sickness and troubles will be over, the veil will be removed and we will see clearly, face to face, a Father whose love for us is beyond compare.
Comments
b) Wow, what a GREAT piece of writing. How encouraging, and full of hope and promise. I LOVEd every word! And I'm going to print this one and share it with the world! (Well, my world, anyway.)
Encouraging.
The Father is not far off. He's right there.
Can we have peace in spite of the presence of the veil? Yes.
Q: Why is it, when we do have peace in spite of the veil, it is sometimes our Christian brothers and sisters who question it and wonder if we are in denial? Has anyone else experienced this?
Marilyn, I think that peace in the midst of a painful trial is one of the greatest evidences of God's reality and sustaining power.