In every mind’s eye, we look through the windows of our souls dimly. It isn’t because our vision is weak, though we only see what we choose to see. It isn’t because our intent is flawed, even as we refuse to see what is in our path. It isn’t even because others are trying to deceive us, even though this is true much of the time. We see dimly because of the graffiti covering our eyes, ears, and other senses.
I come back to New York and find myself immersed in graffiti when I least expect it. I find it on shop doors, fence, house sidings, and on every free space not yet claimed by one group or another. Occasionally you can see outcomes of battle for domination, but for the most part everyone appears to be content in letting the first squatter claim territorial rights. While graffiti is an art form in itself, I find it often hiding, masking, and camouflaging objects of beauty, awe, and reflection. The original stories are hidden beneath a mass of confusion and exploitation.
It is easy to imagine the same thing happening to my soul and the view without. My fears assume the graffiti is part of the real story. Enemies emerge, obstacles grow, and darkness prevails because of someone else’s work. The fact that others are conspiring against you or me isn’t new. For generations the metaphoric story is the same. “Aram, along with Ephraim's son of Remaliah, have plotted to do you [Judah] harm. They've conspired against you, saying, ‘Let's go to war against Judah, dismember it, take it for ourselves, and set the son of Tabeel up as a puppet king over it.’” (Isaiah 7.5, 6)
Yet the graffiti in your life and mine doesn’t need to be our story! I recently watch as someone confronted their fears. The outcome demonstrated the strength and skill within. It is just the beginning of their story, but do they know it?
The Spirit sees and loves the real you. God willing, you will see and love as well.
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