This morning as I was wrestling with whether I was actually ready to get out of bed, my eyes kept looking at a projection on the wall I was facing. There was just enough light from the moon outside that it would shine through the trees and paint a framed silhouette on the wall. Then, when the wind would pick up, not only could I hear the leaves rustling in the trees outside our room, but I could see them dance as well. It was cool.

As I lay there, I was wondering what God was sharing with me. I thought of this and that. Of people to pray for. But I still wasn’t sure those were the reasons for what I was seeing on the wall this morning. So, finally I realized I just was not going to go back to sleep and I got up and started my morning routine. Not that the time in prayer was bad, but I was losing focus as I began thinking of things I needed to accomplish in the hours to come.

At my computer, I read this as part of my morning devotional routine:

“It is no advantage to be near the light if the eyes are closed.”
–Augustine

What? How amazing! It made me realize that if I had not lain in bed this morning, captivated by the “show” on the wall in my room, in most likelihood I may not have spent time in prayer this morning. Or at least I may not have prayed for what I did. And certainly not at the time I did. I May not have spent time in wonder, trying to listen for His desire. I would have been near the light, but my eyes would have remained closed.

What good is it for me to walk through my days and nights, knowing God is near me, but not taking the time to open my eyes and look?

Now, if you were me, you would be asking yourself if the act of looking is “voluntary” or “involuntary”? It’s just the way my mind thinks and desires to learn. I would be curious to know what percentage of our day is spent with our eyes open? When they are open, they look. That is simply what they do, what they are designed for. So I would think that looking would be an involuntary action. However, the act of interpreting those visions would be voluntary. Right?

God gave us lots of things to look at. But each of us must make a decision on what we do with what we see. God is dancing and singing and revealing Himself to me and to you constantly, but I/we have to CHOOSE to see Himself revealed. It’s like those puzzles where you have to find the hidden objects in the photo. They are there, and your eye sees them over and over again as you search. But it is not until you focus your thought that the objects are revealed. Hopefully.

May your eyes and mine be open today to God’s glory revealed. He is there. He is not hiding.

“May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be confident knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones,
and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.”
–Teresa of Ávila

This morning I was reading an update from a friend of mine who was blessed to receive a new heart just about 4 weeks ago. While I do not know if he is a believer, it is interesting to read his expression of his thoughts. It is a blessing that he is sharing his gratitude for his new opportunity, and his struggles that someone else lost their life in order to that he may extend his.

I can only imagine, and I pray that my imagination will suffice, what it must feel like to wake up and realize that someone else’s heart is beating inside of your chest.

As a believer, that was a hard sentence to type without pausing. Shouldn’t I know what it feels like, not physically, but mentally? I SHOULD KNOW!

My mind is recalling the visual image from Robert Munger’s book ‘My Heart, Christ Home’. And I am imagining my heart being given over to Christ bit by bit. My heart becoming His. I should know the fullness of having a heart transplant. A spiritual heart transplant! The heart that beats in this chest should not be my own, but His. Is that not the journey that each of us are on, giving our whole heart over to our Creator?

So, I am rereading the quote above, and that fourth line grabs me, “May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you”.

This morning I am reminded that when I accepted Christ, He gave me a new heart. A gift. My brain has been slow to realize this fully and to know what I am capable of with Christ’s heart inside of me. May this day, and each day, be an opportunity for me to grow in knowing what His heart inside of me is can do.

In His service,
Keith

PS… my friend, in his last message, also shared that during the surgery they cut the nerve connecting his heart to his brain, in order for there to be no communication between the brain and the new heart. The nerve may regenerate over time, he says. I wonder if the same thing happens when we accept Christ into our hearts. I can only imagine how much my brain would try to reject the messages coming from a new and radically different heart. And yet, over time I think that communication link regenerates.

Okay, I guess I never really thought about it much, but in my visual image of Matthew 5:15 I have seen a lamp by itself, shining bright. A single lamp, who’s light is so bright because it shines solitarily in the darkness. Nothing wrong with that. Pretty cool.

Matthew 5:15 - “Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.”
Or Luke 11:33 - “No one lights a lamp and puts it in a place where it will be hidden, or under a bowl. Instead he puts it on its stand, so that those who come in may see the light.”

Now I need to alter that image because of something that I read this morning:

“No candle which God lights was ever meant to burn alone.”
–J. C. Ryle

For me, that means He is helping the candle burn bright and long. A little different than my image a candle out there against the elements. Fearful of that strong wind that might snuff it out. Or afraid that it will grow dim as time goes by. For others it may mean the association with other candles. Strength in numbers. Either way, pretty cool.