Window dressers are unknown authors. There are no names I can give credit to for the thousands of windows where I paused and reflected on the window’s story. The lack of knowing who is behind the window and its story makes the mystery more interesting.
As I walked through a small village, two windows told different stories. The first was shuttered to protect the occupants from the storms, especially during their absence. On a day with no storms in sight, the cracked paint and wood that looked like it has swelled just beyond fitting spoke of ambivalence and a lack of care. Perhaps the occupants were old and unable to care for this themselves. Given the state of the economy, maybe the realities of tough times formed a natural barrier to engaging someone to keep things up.
The second window was a lesson and more. With a Madonna flanked by two adoring angels, there was so much it could be saying. Yet, my reading was dominated by two highlights. First, the residue and marks left by time, hide the details of the three figures except for the Madonna’s face. Second, perhaps more importantly, the solid concrete blocks any sight of the three figures from within. This window was for others. The dressers had turned their eyes blind.
I wonder how often my life reflects these windows. Do I care enough to take care of my heart and mind? Am I investing in myself, using what life’s window shares? Everything starts when I open myself up to the possibilities.
Even more bluntly, am I telling others of things I no longer believe in? Am I willing to twist things so externally that I think the story is good, even though I know otherwise? Old reminders echo off the walls; “It’s simply perverse to say, “If my lies serve to show off God’s truth all the more gloriously, why blame me? I’m doing God a favour.”” (Romans 3.7)Life is full of questions. My first step is being open and attentive as I look through my soul’s windows.
