The Beauty of God
I am convinced we will never see the beauty of God fully until we see the world through his eyes. Until we see His love played out so spectacularly through grace that all we can pray is “O God, how beautiful”.
Sometimes this comes through heart-wrenching pain.
Sometimes it comes through incandescent happiness.
Most of the time, though, if we let it, it comes in the simplest of times. In the mundane. It comes through a sun beam through the window as you are folding laundry. It comes through a child’s voice saying “I love you”. It comes through a slow everyday revelation of God’s kept promises to you.
When we see the world through God’s eyes, through the covenant-lens of beauty, things start to matter where they didn’t, and other things we thought were important start to matter less.
The laundry we tediously fold and put away matters, for we see it as a tangible as gold gift to those we love that meets their needs. But the clothes themselves start to matter less: the brand labels inside don’t hold the weight they used to.
That hard person to love is transformed into beloved, and the heartache and grace that comes with loving them lets us feel a part of the cross Jesus bore for humanity.
Our homes become a sanctuary of grace and shalom for all who walk through the door, and the wrinkled and misshapen throw pillows need less fixing because they bear the indentations of love and life.
Our toys are a gift to bring delight to the joy starved, and the loneliness of status becomes stale.
God asked me to put one shaky foot in front of the other on what I thought was a tight rope. He asked me to use my home, my money, my time, and my whole heart, even though He knows I am no tight rope walker. And what happened was I fell to safety In Him, but I fell just the same. My heart was bruised. My home was unsettled. My time became not my own.
But when I fell I saw The Beauty of God, and it wasn’t like falling at all. Where my heart was bruised, I saw the healing of another’s through it. Where I lost my time I saw the bowed knee love offering to a person needed to be seen. To be walked with. My home became a place of service instead of a fortress. And as I saw all this from the shaky steps I took, all I could pray was “O God, how beautiful.”