A Clear View

Growing up in the Los Angeles basin, on clear days, I had an amazing view of the San Gabriel Mountains… Mt. Baldy, Lake Arrowhead and Big Bear.  They would truly take my breath away on crisp February mornings dusted with snow.  Those mountains rooted me and made me feel secure.

Snowy-San-Gabriel-Mountains

I could orient myself by the mountains.  Heading south on the 57 freeway to Orange County, they graced my rearview mirror.  Heading east on the 10 toward Ontario, they stood to my left. Heading north on the 605 to Pasadena, they stretched out in front of me.  The mountains gave me something to measure against, unmoving and true.

I missed them when I moved to the midwest.  I miss them still in Orlando.  I need to look to other landmarks to get my bearings.

“… in view of God’s mercy…”  Romans 12:1

Is viewing God’s mercy a centering, grounding reality in my life like my view of the San Gabriel’s? God’s mercy tells me a lot about my relationship to him.  It shows me where I stand with him: not deserving, but receiving forgiveness.  It reveals the true character of my heart: bent toward sin, but set free in the Spirit.  It broadcasts the greatness of my salvation: nothing I did, but everything God did for me.

Fog

So do I have a clear view?

In LA sometimes the haze would settle in and obscure my view.  The mountains would look fuzzy or disappear altogether.  Well, they didn’t disappear.  They remained in their fixed position — unchanging.  I just couldn’t see them as clearly.

So what clouds my view of God’s mercy — fear of what others think of me, feeling like I don’t fit in, not taking time to rest and meditate on God’s goodness.    His mercy remains solid and true, but I fumble around unable to get my bearings.

Oh God, clear out the haze.  Let my view be crystal clear of all that your mercy means… today.  Thank you for holding true and never changing, no matter how thick the fog. 

What clouds your view of God’s mercy?