Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.
~ I Corinthians 13:12
I stood in front of this vine draped window of beauty at Muncaster Castle in Ravenglass, England, envisioned women in crinolines and lace staring out of it in centuries past. How their choices of fierce determination tell part of my story too.
It’s a curious thing how a girl fostered in reckless childhood could stand in the dim reflection of miraculous destiny and suddenly see that her Saviour was standing behind her all along.
May we hold on to the promise of clarity in the murky reflections of life’s circumstances, knowing He stands waiting with a mirror, when it is time to see.
Happy Sunday Friends!
Really loved reading your post =)
So glad you came by to read, thanks for being here.
Beautiful photos, Shelly – perfect illustrations for that scripture. Have a wonderful Sunday!
Wow. Beautiful photos to illustrate the scripture, and moving words to bring its light down to the earthly (amazing) possibilities. Thank you for this blessed moment.
Yes, may we trust in His continual presence, knowing we will soon see everything clearly. Beautiful post as always!
Oh dear Shelly, these photos are breathtaking….and what’s more breathtaking, still, is that you saw Jesus’ reflection, not just mirrored there in Ravenglass, but shining back through the windows of your life, even the windows marred by a difficult childhood. I don’t know a lot of your story, but I’m gathering from bits and pieces on your blog that your childhood was at times agonizing. When we look back through times of darkness, or even bleakness that exists now, and can but see a glimmer of Jesus shining through, it gives us such hope and turns the dismal dimness to luminous light–*His* light, which brings both clarity and warmth. There was purpose in your suffering, and now He uses it as you give hope to others through your exquisite words and images. Journaling, for me, has been one unique way of seeing the light of Christ. My journals are dark glass, but the more I commune with Him there, the more I am changed–the more I can see His image faintly shining in the pages….because as He guides me in praying on paper or writing about my life experiences, He’s shown me, just as He has you, that He has always been there–and perhaps, in retrospect, most of all during the most desperate times. It’s then that His reflection shines brightest and when He is most conforming me to His image. Oh that my own reflection would simply disappear. Oh that I would only see Jesus.
It’s why I call my blog redemptions beauty. I have a few circumstances of late that reveal this truth you speak of even more. It’s something I have known all along, that He has been with me, but lately it seems He is revealing even more about the miraculous in my life. For that I am grateful and that we never stop growing up in Him.
Oh I am looking forward to reading about your discoveries in future posts–about His miraculous presence in your life. I hope you are writing this all down!
I probably need to be writing more than I am. Just hard to find the time. Thanks for the encouragement Lynn.
Gorgeous as usual. I love seeing the various flowers and the windows “growing” together. So enjoy … ALWAYS … seeing how you tie the Word and our world together beautifully.
You’re so kind Joanne, it is always lovely to connect with you on the weekends.
wonderful…. words and picture.
I, too, pray for all those who have yet to see “Redemption” face to face, in the right time and place. So that all may come to know of Jesus’ saving grace. How He purchased us at such a cost. And in so doing they may experience also….. this grace shining in all those who are saved. Even if we are yet to be perfected.
Happy Sunday too, Shelly.
Amen and I ditto our sentiments. You have such a lovely heart you know?
He is there in the desert and the rain forest…whether things seem lonely and dry or full of life and living…He is there.
Yes, and admittedly sometimes I have to be reminded of that in the times of parched earth. Thank you Kim.