Perspective

"You certainly can't always look at things from someone else's Point of View. For instance, from here that looks like a bucket of water," he said, pointing to a bucket of water; "but from an ant's point of view it's a vast ocean, from an elephant's just a cool drink, and to a fish, of course, it's home. So, you see, the way you see things depends a great deal on where you look at them from."-The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster


One of my favorite books of all time is The Phantom Tollbooth, not only because it's a brilliantly written childrens novel but because my big brother read it alooud with me at an age where it was uncool for us to be friends.  Leave it to books to bring us together.  Similarly, writing connected us when I lived three thousand miles away.  Words are pretty powerful business.  They can make or break, restore or demolish and in some cases, encourage the affections of those that shouldn't be encouraged but no one ever said I was entirely wholesome, except, of course, for the Psuedo but clearly, he is jaded.

A man sat by me the other day asking me about my computer.  That looks pretty new, he commented.  And I said it was, only but two years old.  He told me he was waiting for the bus, that it comes every twenty minutes on Sundays.  You have a car? he had asked me and I nodded that I did.  LUCKY! he emphatically declared.  And it made me smile remembering how truly lucky I really am.

Someone I know was complaining about his birthday because he had to study and then serve at the Portland Mission until 10pm.  I thought, when I first heard him talking, what a wonderful way to spend your birthday, loving others, giving to those desperate in need, realizing how much you have to be thankful for.  Pretty stellar of him, I thought, but he was complaining about it.  He had to be there because he's the head of the board, a title his legalism dains he possess, not out of a desire to serve but to collect labels of superiority.
I'm better than you because I do this selfless act.  Do you do this selfless act?  Because I do.  Don't you wish you were like me and my giving heart?

Isn't it funny though? I am in absolutely the worst place imaginable to try and pass judgment on anyone, though truthfully, we all are always incapable of such feigned pride.  Yet all I can see, all I hear is a troubled heart, one that doesn't know and embrace the furious love of God, His unfailing grace and forgiveness.  I see someone incapable of showing any true compassion because he himself has never needed it.

The beauty of falling and shattering entirely is that God has the freedom to rebuild you as He sees fit.  I've been put back together many a time and this lady, while cracked, is one tough cookie.  Ain't no haters stealin' this goddess' joy.  She is a treasure and very much worth the time, worth the wait, worth the forgiving love so many refuse to embody.

But I guess it's all in how you choose to see things.  And there are two types of people in this world: those who love what they see and those who hate because they cannot see.