Oct
21

What I Saw

sarajenggrewar1

 

I guess you’d call it a vision.

 

What I saw took place beyond the dimension of physical eyes. Amidst the clouds of heaven, One “like a Son of Man” riveted my attention. I could not see Him in His entirety, only His Head, which peered out from the heavenlies with a perspective cutting across time and space.

 

This One Who had been in the beginning with God, stood with Eyes wide-open, seeing all and knowing all, scanning heaven and earth with just a glance (John 1:2; 2 Chronicles 16:9; Psalm 139:4). All things were open and laid bare to His eyes — eyes which flamed with the brilliance of fire, in purity and light (Hebrews 4:13; Revelation 1:14).

 

Mesmerized with the radiance of His glory, I realized that He was the exact representation of His Father (Hebrews 1:3). Together, their Light penetrated the expanse, extending like a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day (Ezekiel 1:27-28). United as One, He spoke and it was accomplished (Psalm 33:9). His Word, like an arrow which is always aimed precisely and accurately on its target, never failed, regardless the purpose (Isaiah 55:11).

 

Despite my awe-inspired fear, it was His lovingkindness that extended throughout the heavenlies, not His terror. His faithfulness reached into infinity with color and brilliance (Psalm 36:5). The mountains I saw in the distance had been created through His righteousness and the clear waters of bottomless lakes swirled with His limitless plans (Psalm 36:6). His every character trait exploded into reality in this place where His perfection reigned supreme.

 

Then slowly, as if an unseen camera lens adjusted, my viewpoint panned out to expand my perspective. Breathless, I saw that this Head, Who saw all and knew all, had a body as well (Ephesians 1:22-23). Comprised of ligaments and joints, muscles and sinew, His expansive body filled not only the spiritual dimension, but spanned into my time and space. My eyes scanned His form and I realized He Himself was like Jacob’s ladder, with His feet resting on earth yet His Head reaching into the heavenlies (Genesis 28:12).

 

My gaze rested upon His feet and shocked into realization that they resembled a mere human’s. Like mine. And like yours. Yes, like those of the whole church, standing in the midst of the earthly while His Head kept His viewpoint of the heavenly.

 

There the vision ended, but how greatly it continues to influence my prayer.

 

We, who are many, are one body in Christ (Romans 12:5). He, as our Head, has positioned each of us in His body to stand as watchmen wherever He has placed us (1 Corinthians 12:18). I in my place, and you in yours, our feet know well the trials and temptations of those around us.

 

But from our stance, we send petitions for resources upward to “Christ, Who is the head…” (Ephesians 4:15 NET). “Truly, truly, I say to you, you shall see the heavens opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man,” “sent out to render service for the sake of those who will inherit salvation” (John 1:51; Hebrews 1:14). “Devote yourselves (then) to prayer” “for everyone who asks receives and he who seeks finds and to him who knocks it shall be opened” (Colossians 4:2; Matthew 7:7).

 

(Photo courtesy of Sara Jeng Grewar. Follow her on Instagram @sarajenggrewar)

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Heath was five when he came to live with us that autumn. 

 

His 20-year-old mom, her boyfriend and another male relative had been evicted from their apartment next door. 

 

Denice asked if we would keep Heath while they lived in their car awhile. Initially, I said “no.” I was afraid of legal ramifications and didn’t want something to happen for which I would be held liable. Yet, as Denice walked out my door, I knew that I had made the wrong decision. 

 

The next six weeks were memorable to say the least. Mark and I added a kindergartener to our family of three. 

 

Nine-month-old Hannah enjoyed Heath’s company and we could tell the feeling was mutual. They crawled after one another and he taught her how to play hide-and-seek. 

 

Things rocked along amazingly smooth until Heath came home from school with a fever. His pale skin seemed more sallow and the circles under his eyes grew deeper. Our own baby had not yet been sick and I wasn’t really sure what to do.

 

Money was especially tight in those days and I knew that Heath wouldn’t be covered under our meager insurance. I wasn’t even sure that I could take him to the doctor since I wasn’t his legal guardian or anything. Desperately, I turned to James 5:14.

 

We were attending a very conservative church at the time and I decided against calling in our deacons for a healing service. The only oil I had in the house was 100% vegetable, but I decided I’d get started as Heath seemed to be getting worse. It was going to be quite some time before Mark got home from work. 

 

My faith in the whole process was pretty shaky – yet, I did believe that God was my only Hope. Desperately, I carried the oil-soaked cloth to Heath’s bedside. 

 

I told Heath that I was concerned about him and was going to be praying for him to get better. He’d been praying with us at meals and bedtime, so he nodded his head weakly as I began to stroke his forehead with the cloth. 

 

The prayer itself was nothing special. I rambled about Heath’s need and claimed some simple verses about God’s power. I stumbled with my words and went they fell flat altogether, I finally opened my eyes. 

 

Heath was looking up at me, waiting as it were for his turn to speak. 

 

I’m gonna be well now, huh?…. I like it when God talks.”

 

 I stared dumbfounded at his simple trust. Then Heath added,

 

You did hear Him, didn’t you? I know I did.

 

As Heath began to get better, I realized that it wasn’t my faith that restored him, but that of a five-year-old. 

 

It was the first of many lessons that I would learn about power being perfected in weakness

 

When have you seen faith blossom in prayer?

 

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