Sitting here in the quiet of the night, everyone has gone to that place where their dreams are formed, created, spun. The house is quiet and still. Simple, beautiful, music swirls about and around, dancing with my thoughts and coloring my words. Words, notes, the lilt of the here and now. Stars shine down, laughing with light, whispering of all they know. Of what they've seen. Centuries gone by, moments known to no one else, seconds that changed the course of history, but of which there was and never will be written what they contained. Moments. Seconds. Sitting here in the quiet, in the inky darkness, I wonder at all the moments the stars have seen take wings and fly. Constant, unchanging, they watch. With their names given by the One who created them to be His silent witnesses, they gaze down upon humanity in all our tragic beauty. For they have watched us for all of our days. For all the days that ever dawned on this planet of ours. Surely, they must find themselves quite amused at times, watching all the joy and pain and laughter and tears, to find once again, some small little being who fancies themselves the center of the universe. And we all have...or certainly will at some point in our tiny little lives. I would imagine it is vastly entertaining to watch it played out, the same act over and over and over again. Same plot. Different actors. Still, though we act out the play, though we read of how it has been done over the centuries, we simply cannot seem to grasp what is of any importance.
Instead, we clench our fists around all that will turn to dust, caught up in the wind and swept out into the never ending darkness of a life ended. Ended. With nothing to show but the grains of sand we have become, now floating on the air. Oh, but we have read the story a thousand times. We have seen the play produced and brought to life through lives connected with our own, yet still, to comprehend would be to change the very essence of who we are, and so we choose to blissfully live in our ignorance. Ignorance is bliss, or so "they" say, until the veil is lifted and what is set before our eyes is understanding of all that was and is vanity.
Vanity is a funny thing. It never comes alone, but ushers in its greater master...pride. And to have pride, to find ourselves of great importance, a gift to those around us, it is to all of this that vanity willingly serves. Slowly, slowly, they feed off of each other until, though we may catch a glimpse of the vanity in our hearts, it is quickly squelched by our great pride, never wanting to admit that the life we're living does truly belong to vanity. Mastered and controlled by these two, we live in willing ignorance.
Until. Until all we thought was important in all our pride and vanity, suddenly is swept away. A light, bright and burning down into the pit dug by the current residence, shines forth like the noon day sun. And the place at the center of the universe we believed we owned, is indeed not ours nor will it ever be. We have been tricked! Tricked into believing the lie. Left standing with the dust of lives wasted, believing this life was all about us. Me . You.
It's not, you know. Oh, I suppose in some small measure it is about us. For someone else, it may be all about us. But for you and I, our lives are not about us. Your life, my life, it's about those around us. Those lives that have been lovingly placed by the One who arranges such things with perfect timing. The lives we have yet to even know of that are coming, as surely as the stars gazing down upon us, coming with an urgency into our own at some point in the future. Let us not miss how important these lives are. How valued, how treasured they should be to our own. For there is a reason others are brought to us. It is because, to them, you and I, we showcase a side of God's character that they will not see in any other. All because, though this life is not about us, we are used in a very special way in the lives around us. For the simple fact is that we are unique, created by a God who values individuality to show the world who He is. None of us look alike, talk alike, act alike, nor is our femininity or masculinity anything alike! Thank goodness! Why?? Because He created us different. Not one life will be just like another. Not one story ever told the same.
Like the notes of music that make up a song, like the strokes from the color of a painter's brush, each of us is different. Unique. Individual. You were not created to be someone else. You were created to be you. And let me tell you, there is absolutely no one else you should be emulating, but Jesus. He thought you up, He dreamed of your personality, of the colors you would send forth into this vast universe, all thought up and dreamed and created to bring glory to Him. All created to touch those lives in our own for the hope of glory set before us. Yet still, set before our eyes, before our lives, is a choice. Never will He force us to choose that which He would give. Never will He demand we let go of the dust we may hold, of the vanity we may harbor, of the pride that like a disease, may have entered our hearts. Instead He asks. Will we let them go? Would we be willing to cast out the vanity and pride, the notion that we are the center of it all, and instead, become living colors shining bright into a darkened and suffering world, for Him? He whispers the question. Speaks gently to our hearts, yearning that we would say yes. Yes, to the Painter, Whose every stroke across the canvass of our lives brings nothing but the greatest joy. His strokes do not bring ease, or comfort, or a painting like the world would paint for us. No. His strokes bring life to the giver, though in the end we may lose even that for the beauty of His name and the eternity promised us, and always these colors painted by Him bring life to the receiver.
"He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose."-Jim Elliot
With bated breath, the stars gaze down. For every once in a while, the script is rewritten, a beautiful and wonderful plot twist takes them by surprise! But, only if our answer is yes to the One who whispers, "Oh Beloved, let's be adventurers together." Never is a single brush stroke from the mighty Painter ever painted twice in His living masterpieces.
And when we answer yes, it is then our lives have the power to change the center of this universe for Him.
© Jade Valcarcel 2013. All rights reserved
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