My brain is fuzzy. I've been studying for the daily requirement of 3 hours in the afternoon.
Dantes and Shakespeare is getting all mixed up with Mona Lisa and A Clockwork Orange. So I stared out the round window beside me at the library.
Outside it is blazing hot. I think somewhere in the neighborhood of 103 F. Grass is getting crispy, and the sky is a faint blue that looks like it's pale from the heat. The leaves of the trees are droopy, and it's shimmering with the sun beating down.
And just outside my window there's a fountain. Sparkling with water that is flung high and spraying cool, fresh water, glistening in the otherwise relentless sun.
But what caught my attention was three little children, playing in the water with abandon. Their heads are thrown back, laughing as the water hits them. And then, their mom stepped in, too. A happy little family, enjoying the cool water.
I don't know why, but I enjoyed seeing them play together.
In my quiet little corner I look down on the world through the porthole of my round window. I'd be tempted to say that's how God looks down on us, but no. He is not so limited. He sees everything, not just what is bound by the window.
He knows everything, not just what is observed through the glass.
And I am glad.
God gets the big picture, but He knows the details, too.
Reminds me of this verse:
"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." 1 Cor. 13:12
Good to remember on these days when things seem to be standing still or only dimly seen and understood.
Cool, fresh water, glistening in the Sun.