The View From Up There

We have a bridge that connects one side of our upstairs with the other.
The bridge looks down over the family room on one side.
The bridge looks down over the foyer on the other.
There was one rule when we moved into our house twenty years ago.

Nothing could be thrown off the bridge.
I could imagine toys flying over the railing.
I could imagine things being dropped down to the floor below.
So that the temptation would be resisted, I put furniture on the bridge.

I have a wicker love seat, two chairs, and a small wicker table on the bridge.
I also have three large bookcases filled with books.
There is a large clock on the wall.
There is also an antique table that belonged to my aunt with a small lamp on top.

It is a cozy space.
It is where my son always played guitar because the acoustics were so good.
His music wafted through the house.
His music seemed to fill every crevice.

The no-throwing-anything-over-the-bridge rule was firmly in place.
There were ways they tried to get around it.
There were science experiments that needed to test the velocity of various falling objects.
There was the toy parachute that just had to be launched from a high place.

I remember lingering at the dinner table after the younger ones finished their meal.
I would be sitting there talking to my husband or an older child and I would see it.
An object would swing back and forth on a rope that was held by someone on the bridge.
That someone would often be my younger son who loved to swing Woody from that high place.

Buzz Lightyear was not far behind since a swinging cowboy needed some assistance.
If asked, the offender would remind me that he were not throwing anything off the bridge.
He was technically correct.
I was not going to amend the rules to be a case by case scenario.

The view is quite lovely on the bridge.
If the moon is just right you can see it through the large window over the front door.
The bridge was the large space that my children had to cross to reach our bedroom.
That space seemed cavernous if they were having a bad dream or if they felt sick.

I actually like the view from up there.

I was always partial to Ferris wheels.
As my children got older, they wanted to go on more adventurous rides.
I stayed behind with the younger ones.
The Ferris wheel was always something we could do together.

The operator had his own set of rules.
Keep you hands inside at all times.
Keep the bar firmly down on your lap.
No swinging the seat back and forth.

I was happy to oblige.
We would go around and around a few times; there would always be intermittent stops.
People were getting off so other people could get on.
Anywhere along the way, the Ferris wheel could stop.

It was always so much fun to get stopped on the top of the Ferris wheel.
I could see the apprehension in the little ones’ faces.
I would distract them with the possibility of finding their dad and other siblings down below.
After a while, they began to enjoy getting stuck at the top.

The view was so much better from up there.

I visited Paris after my mother died; I was enthralled with the Eiffel Tower.
To see that beautiful city from up there was a sight to see.
I remember someone pointing out the Champs Elysees down below.
I remember them calling it the street of rubies and diamonds.

I did not understand and asked about that name.
From the top of the Eiffel Tower you could see all the traffic on the street below.
The cars coming towards me had white headlights: Diamonds.
The cars going away from me had red taillights: Rubies.

The view was so lovely from up there.

I remember the order from the top of the Eiffel Tower.
The traffic moved smoothly.
There was a constant flow.
From that vantage point, everything looked so peaceful.

When we came down the steps to the level of the street, horns were blaring.
People got annoyed as they waited in traffic.
All the peace and order I saw from the top of the Eiffel Tower was gone now.
Or was it?

I realized that what I saw on top of the Eiffel Tower was exactly what I was seeing on the street.
My vantage point had changed.
I had a view of the whole scene from above.
Down on the level of the street, I saw only disorder and chaos.

For the word of the Lord is right and true; he is faithful in all he does. The Lord loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of his unfailing love. By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth. He gathers the waters of the sea into jars; he puts the deep into storehouses. Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the people of the world revere him. For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm. The Lord foils the plans of the nations; he thwarts the purposes of the peoples. But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations. Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people he chose for his inheritance.  From heaven the Lord looks down and sees all mankind; from his dwelling place he watches all who live on earth— he who forms the hearts of all, who considers everything they do. (Psalm 33:4-15)

While we are here at street level, we see disorder and chaos.
If we could only have God’s perspective.
If we could only see the whole picture from above like He does.
God can bring beauty out of ashes and order out of chaos.

The view is so much better from up there.
The view is so much better when seen it through God’s eyes.
Oh, to have just a glimpse of that view.
Until then, we trust that God sees perfectly from up there.

From heaven the Lord looks down and sees all mankind.
From his dwelling place he watches all who live on earth.

Amen.