Ripples

Yesterday, I brought a binder to my Intro to Geology class. No big deal. In fact, that's normal. The funny thing is that the binder has calendar nature pictures from who knows how long ago. One of the pictures has mountains with a lake below, reflecting the peaks. Those types of pictures have always been my favorite because you have to strain to see where the real mountain ends and the reflection begins.
As I was sitting this morning in the student union, sipping on some coffee, I had a revelation; something struck me so I had to write about it, not only in my journal but someplace where I could share it with others.
Imagine you're standing in front of a mountain lake, with all the wonderful pine trees and wildflowers around you and the snow-capped peaks in the background. It's a wonderful place where you feel safe and full of joy. Looking at the peaks causes your neck to cramp so you look at the reflection. You forget that you're looking at a lake and you think that you're actually looking at the mountains. Gazing at the reflection, you immerse yourself in the details and the beauty of the nature around you. Suddenly, a breeze pushes across the lake and the mountain is lost. It's a myriad of colors. In your little world, your mountain has disappeared. You panic because you think that something horrible is happening because mountains don't just disappear. You don't know what to do and you despair. You've forgotten that the real mountains are waiting to be seen; they've never left.
I don't know if you can see through this analogy and you became annoyed with it, but let me flesh it out. So many times, in a young woman's life, she becomes enamored with the reflection of love. As Christians, we have an idea of what God's love is and our desire to receive that love from a young man. We become so infatuated with what we think is the real deal that we forget what God's love is truly like. Maybe your reflection is something other than a significant other, but bear with me.
When something happens and the person (or thing) into whom we've been pouring all our attention shows that he/it isn't as trustworthy or God-like as we thought, everything falls apart. Our hearts are broken and we think that everything that looks good and whole is just a figment of our imaginations. We lose faith. We've forgotten that there is a perfect and whole being (God)who can never be a myriad of blurring colors because he is steadfast and is with us always and everywhere. We look at the world and we say that all we want is to be whole and safe and protected when all we feel is hurt, alone, and betrayed. Finding our desires seems impossible because we've negated the best option, due to our forgetfulness: God.
I have to be thankful for the ripples. I would much rather be learning how to gaze upon the true mountain rather than investing time in a reflection that disappears as soon as a slight breeze hits it. I'm not saying this as an "I'm dating Jesus" cop-out. That's not what this is at all. In my limited experience, I have discovered that I have claimed true what is false, what is flawed as perfect, and what is human as infallible. As I pursue healing, I discover facets and perspectives of God I had never realized before the hurt. I suppose that makes the hurt worthwhile. At least for all immediate purposes and coping mechanisms.