I bought my house for this view.
Back in 1978, the house didn’t look like much—a square little cottage set in the middle of a field–but what I saw when I walked in took my breath away. To the east and the south were windows which swept my eye over the expanse of the valley to the rugged mountains beyond. It was the view I’d dreamed of during six years of exile in the east. I fell in love immediately and have loved it ever since.
When we moved in, I set up my favorite rocking chair before this southeast window with its picture of the Hyalites. There, coffee, Bible and journal at hand, I start my day. Something about morning light, mountains and that view makes prayer come so much easier.
As the fall moved in this year and the miserable smoke of the summer finally began to clear, I realized something. The windows I loved had become downright ugly. The big ones bore the dust and stains; the screens on the small ones were covered with cottonwood fuzz. As I began to schedule the task in my head I realized something else: my creaky old body was not up for it. With my shaky balance and wobbly knee, I shouldn’t even try to climb ladders and reach out with a squeegee in my hand. Sigh…
But there was this person who had washed the windows at church…
A few phone calls later, I had a window washing crew at my house, scrubbing out the screens, washing those windows inside and out.
When I walked in to look at the job, my jaw fell open. The windows were so clean they looked transparent. No steaks, no spots, no hard water residue in the corners. They shined; they gleamed, even. Never, in all the years I’ve lived here, had they ever been so clean! It’s amazing what a professional can do.
I’ve been babbling on about my windows ever since. I felt like the man Jesus healed in John 9, who could not stop crying, “I was blind, but now I see!” (vs. 25)
And that made me think about our spiritual blindness.
We’re spending our days lately as if we’re trying to walk through a fog, groping our way along while our minds are assaulted by angry, conflicting voices, each claiming to know the way, each shouting for our attention and seeking to silence the others. The noise is so loud, so unrelenting that we no longer know what to believe, how to proceed, who to trust. We’re tempted to run and hide, to dissolve into a ball of helpless, quivering fear.
Which is exactly where our Enemy wants us.
We need a good window washing.
I am praying with Paul that the eyes of our hearts may be enlightened, (Ephesians 1:18) that God will come in and scrape off the grime of our indifference, fear, pride and unbelief. I am asking Him to show us the Truth so clearly that we can’t deny it or pretend it doesn’t exist. No matter how painful or embarrassing that may be.
It’s a big job but He is a Big God. He is, after all, the ultimate Professional…and He’s not afraid of the Truth. For He knows:
in the Truth and only in the Truth will we be set free. (John 8:32)