Monday, July 16, 2012

A Bent Perspective

It was a bent rainbow. 
Correction:  a bent half
of a rainbow—the right half. 

Hmm.  A defective rainbow.  Does that mean the ozone police are right and the ‘no more floods’ promise is defective, too?  Can God be God if even one of His promises is flawed? I know the answer, but still—what do you do with a bent rainbow?
I pondered the crooked, partial arc.  For a long time—with my legs dangling over the concrete wall on which I was perched, watching the birds eat fast food on Sarasota Bay.  They didn’t seem concerned about the off kilter rainbow.  They just kept on believing God would supply all their nutritional needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus, diving into the buffet at their feet to prove it. Now and then they glanced my way and criticized my inferior faith.  I would have been offended, but I don’t speak bird.
Besides.  They were right.  I wasn’t worried too much about sunlight through raindrops. Mostly what I’ve been pondering lately is my faith.
How do you “just deal with it” when the “it” involves life and death?  It’s a pretty universal question I’ve been posing to the Craftsman of the universe.  But I’m having a little trouble speaking His language, too.
So there I sat on a concrete wall.  Kicking my legs in time to my iPod so the biting gnats would leave me alone.  Distracted, I stared out across the wet expanse, past sailboats and mangroves and pelicans and flying fish, and watched the skyscape change its fickle mind, reshaping its panorama at the whim of the leftover clouds from yesterday’s storms. And wondering what would cause a rainbow to bend.
Before long, the clouds grew weary of my questions and moved away. And in the void, perspective cleared, revealing the fully intact rainbow they’d playfully distorted.  Like a successful magician, the colorful paintstrokes stood center stage and took a bow. The waters of the bay rose up in welcome, and together—the half arc above, with its reflection below—they formed a flawless rainbow, presented at long last for my approval. 
Sort of. 

It wasn’t exactly upright.  Instead, it was a full rainbow on its side, shaped like a right parenthesis in the blue sky, ninety degrees off kilter, grinning coquettishly like a multi-striped Cheshire Cat.  I think it was making fun of my worries, just like the overfed birds who now rested atop the mangroves.
Just because a rainbow looks bent, doesn’t mean it is bent.  The only thing bent this morning was my perspective.
Well, okay.  

What a relief to know that the One with the Answer to all of my worries values the questions. And rewards the asking with Cheshire Cat rainbows.


  1. <3 The right perspective can be so hard to come by. I love you and your family and you are often in my thoughts and prayers. If I could hug you through the internet I would.

    1. I guess we're in the middle of Perspective 101. At least the Teacher is also the Lover of our souls. Hugs and kisses to you all!

  2. Sending you hugs and love, sweetie. This is beautiful. I'm so glad he showed you the whole rainbow.

    1. Me, too. :) Hugs right back at you, my friend!