Looking at things ‘straight-on’ sometimes affects your vision. For example, when you look at something straight-on, it is difficult to determine whether or not something is coming towards you or moving away from you, especially when there is some distance involved between you and the object of your attention. This seems to be true both in the physical world and in the metaphysical world. ‘Staring it down’ often doesn’t seem to produce much of the results we desire, even when the stakes for determining the outcome seem pretty high.
A train, for example, coming straight at you is almost more ominous because of the sound than because of the sight of it. And, the speed of a train can be quite significant…especially if you are tied up on its tracks. Life can feel like this, as we sometimes desperately seek to understand whether or not a train is about to run us over. We hear the sound, we think we see something big coming, but we don’t know what to do about our current situation, nor how quickly we must find a way to save ourselves from it. And the uncertainly of such a situation, whatever it is, seems to create urgency out of our fears of the worst. We simply must know and so we stare more intently at the on-coming light beam, earnestly seeking a way to know what and when we must do something, in spite of our helplessness and the inevitability of the doom we so vividly imagine.
Look at things from the side, however. Now that seems to give us some perspective, doesn’t it? Take the train example again. When I watch a train from the side, I get a much more helpful perspective on things. I can estimate how fast it is moving. I can predict the basic direction it is going, towards something or away from it. I can also see the context of the tracks on which it is running…and note things about the significance of its travel. Looking at a train straight-on rarely gives me this point-of-view. Further, a straight-on view of a train rather implies that I am in its path. A view from the side, at the very least, seems to mean that I am safe…especially since most trains have to stay on their tracks to move very quickly or they don’t go very far, especially in farm-land soil.
Often, it seems, man is intent on seeing the train coming his way and will stare intently at it straight-on. I am intent on this these days, where the predictability of the tracks from the engineer’s seat (where I have typically and erroneously imagined myself sitting) has been removed. In fact, effort for or against, it seems nearly impossible for me to get off the track of the speeding train headed my way. I know that others can see things in my life because they are looking at things from the side. In fact, I can see things in their lives as well, because I sit on the side of their tracks. So the question emerges, in my mind, what is the value of the inescapable straight-on point-of-view that I see things from at the moment…especially since I seem helpless at being able to get to the side to see where things are going?
A quote by Elisabeth Elliot comes to mind:
Either we are adrift in chaos or we are individuals, created, loved, upheld and placed purposefully, exactly where we are. Can you believe that? Can you trust God for that?
-- Elisabeth Elliot
So the gap, in those moments when I can’t imagine this, when I can’t comprehend it, based on the circumstances of my life, is not that it isn’t true…rather and simply that I don’t understand how it is true, that I simply don’t see how it is true. Often the blindness I feel, whether from the brightness of the on-coming light or the endlessness of the surrounding darkness, seems deepest when I feel the most threatened by something else. But Elliot’s question persists, can I believe that I am exactly where I should be? Can I trust that God would put me where I am?
When the chips feel down, this kind of trust violates nearly every instinct we have on self-preservation. Am I really exactly where I should be? Loved, upheld and placed somewhere purposefully? What about these words, from someone else who felt that he was somewhere other than where he should be, in trouble?
1 The LORD is my light and my salvation—
whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?3 Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then will I be confident.4 One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.7 Hear my voice when I call, O LORD;
be merciful to me and answer me.8 My heart says of you, "Seek his [b] face!"
Your face, LORD, I will seek.11 Teach me your way, O LORD;
lead me in a straight path
because of my oppressors.13 I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.14 Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD.-- Psalm 27
If I was describing the train tracks of one of my friends, I would more likely agree that this could be, that this is true. So why do I feel as haltingly excepting of this truth – that I am exactly where I need to be – for myself? Is it because I haven’t known enough yet of the source of not only life, but also the goodness the Psalmist speaks of? Or, perhaps I have known of it, but not really and fully known it.
And, what if laying on the tracks of life is the way for me to come to know this God and His goodness in the deeply personal and profound way I long to know it? I often imagine other ways of coming to know such things. Unexplainable situations, especially when they are my own, regularly reinforce the likely impossibility that I am being allowed to know something like this. And yet, a view from-the-side seems to regularly reinforce that such a thing is happening and those around me claim they see it happening…even clearly.
…now that is a ‘view-from-the-side’ perspective that could be helpful for me in my currently ‘straight-on’ view of my world.
