It’s a good habit to develop.
As usually happens in the start of January, I’m in a reflective mood. Looking back over the last year or so, I sometimes find surprising themes, particularly in the photos I’ve taken. One such theme is my tendency to gaze upward when in new places.
This most often happens while I wait in hotels and airports. And instead of shrinking my world down into the tiny microcosm of my phone, I try to stay aware of the space around me. (I’m only partially successful in this, to be honest.)
When I do, I find that there are treasures hidden in plain sight – delights of design placed as a reward for the observant. Very often, dangling above me.
We excel at looking down. I think of how much of my day is spent focused downward: on my phone, on the computer, reading, cooking, eating – most tasks orient me earthward. Should I be surprised that pessimism and discouragement are so easy to fall into? We say a sorrowful person is downcast. Why isn’t upcast a word?
The Sons of Korah gave the Israelites a song to help them be “upcast”:
Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God…” Ps. 42:5
Whether we are physically or spiritually downcast, the advice is the same: look up! Paul puts his own spin on this when he writes, “Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.” (Col. 3:2). We are creatures with our feet on the ground, but our hearts in the skies.
That’s why I love these overhead wonders so much. I can’t tell you how often I am sitting, say, in a hotel lobby, distracted, worried, focused on the puzzling details of the day ahead. Then I glance up.
There above me is one of these constructions: unexpected, intriguing, dynamic, even fantastical or futuristic. And the sight of it breaks into my earthbound reverie, reminding me that my day was meant to have more than problem-solving. God – glorious, beautiful, intent, the Creator of all design – wants to define and inhabit my day.
This experience is not new. There’s a long history of Christian architects who encouraged people to lift their eyes. Sadly, much of what is build today for worship puts little thought into what’s overhead. But in ages past, the experience of walking into a sanctuary started with the uplift of eyes – and heart.
So, let me encourage you to do the same. Look up. When you’re outside. When you’re in a building. When you consider your current situation or the year ahead.
At least once a day.
Look up.
There just might be something wonderful waiting.
Lord, lift our eyes. Cause us to break out of our earth-bound focus and see what is above. Make us an upcast people.
Reader: Tell me about a time when you looked up and were delighted by what was above.
Email me at: bvanpatter@ailbe.org. Is there someone you think would like this post? Please use the buttons above to share it. And if you haven’t subscribed and would like to, here’s the link.
