From a block away, I could see the electric wire feeding our neighbor’s house sparkling in the early morning sun, a line of silver from the transformer to the house. That twisted wire, altered by the sun’s angle, put me in mind of ultimate realities. If only we could see all of the creation, all of the time, in that heavenly glow.
One day, I actually saw that glow resting on people. A few years ago, entering a local restaurant, I climbed the three inside steps into the small, wallpapered space full of wainscoted booths and glanced around to find my friend. Each stranger held my eye for a second longer than usual, so I could take in the sparkle that had settled on each one.
They were luminous.
It’s the only way I’ve ever been able to describe what I saw; what I have not yet seen again. As if seeing through the eyes of the Light of the world, I saw his creation as he does. I’m not implying everyone there was his child, i.e., in a saving relationship with Jesus, but each one is his creation, lovingly created by his tender hand.
I met another friend in that restaurant this morning. Our conversation was full of the Spirit, though the illumination was ordinary. But the memory always comes back when I return to that place. The image of those luminous strangers reminds me of Jesus’ great desire to shine in all our lives. We are more than twisted wire; more than ordinary people. We are the creation of the Light of the world, he who alone determines our value and beauty.
Jesus, may we see ourselves through your light-filled eyes.