Perspective

I was 13 years old and in 8^th grade the year I had Mr. Wiesling as my teacher in art class.  A single, flamboyant man in his 30’s, he was often taunted by other students who called him The Weasel behind his back.  But I liked him.

Mr. Wiesling taught us about perspective - how to draw with what he called perspective points.  He showed us how to start with a vertical line depicting a particular corner of a building in the center of a two-dimensional sheet of paper (which would also theoretically be the closest corner of the building, if three-dimensional). Then we drew slanting horizontal roof and ground lines toward perspective points on either edge of the sheet.  Thus the created building was viewed from a specific angle - a particular point of view - such that we could envision the height, width, and depth of the entire structure from that particular vantage point.

That year, 1962, was rough at home.  My mother repeatedly visited the hospital to receive electric shock treatments for depression.  Each treatment stunned her brain – a short-term fix at best.  I feared for her and for my helpless, angry father.  My own adolescent uncertainties raged until fear dominated my world. 

Perhaps this is one reason why I liked Mr. Wiesling’s class, where I experienced a measure of creative release from these tensions.  In the midst of teaching the rules of artistic perspective, he also planted seeds in my impressionable mind that suggested there was a way to interpret life – a way to view the world honestly, and yet from a particular frame of reference.   As if looking through a chosen lens, I could select what would dominate: what would be more, and less, prominent.  I could choose a perspective.

* * *

Today we visited with friends whose adult son is battling brain cancer.  He is currently awaiting a second extremely risky surgery.

Aside from dealing with the actual facts, perspective is critical to our friends right now.  They recognize the Lord Jesus as their front-and-center, closest reality.  While their son’s very life is threatened, they choose to focus on the Giver of it.*  Fear and worry may tempt them to despair, and yet they recognize a vast canvas stretching far beyond the current painful situation, one with perspective points fading into eternity. 

I watch in awe as these loving parents, in their heartbrokenness, cultivate perspective.  While realistic and thoroughly present in the midst of their son’s suffering, and their own pangs of adjustment and loss, they choose to live one moment at a time with eyes fixed on The Redeemer.  In other words, hope is predominant.  This is not just optimism for the sake of warm fuzzies, but rather it is the perspective of faith in a compassionate, merciful God who is in the process of redeeming human hearts - even (or maybe especially) in the midst of grief.  May He be glorified in their journey, and may they be upheld by His love.

*“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
 and naked I will depart. 
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
 may the name of the Lord be praised.”  Job 1:21