Perspiration, Perspective, Perception—and Alliteration!

Allow me to share some meditations on an August day.

Now that August has arrived, end-of-season swimwear sales are popping up in newspaper and online ads. Only one thing prevents me from pursuing one of these sale items: the thought of actually stuffing myself into one!

Perspiration

It wasn’t always that way, though. As a child, I spent summers in a swimsuit riding my bicycle, just waiting for Mom’s approving nod that would grant me permission to jump into the cool, clear, refreshing waters of our community swimming pool.

Granted, the lake just beyond our backyard was so much more accessible, but my mother (being a nonswimmer) always wanted to be able to see her children in—and under—the water. Besides, the lake held its share of hazards, such as snapping turtles, wriggling water snakes and bullfrogs the size of Rhode Island, all of which trumped the temptation to cool off, no matter how hot I’d gotten during playtime.

That was years ago. Today we’re well into a record-breaking sustained summer heat wave along with the rest of the nation. And so, after bicycling for exercise in this morning’s somewhat cooler temps and already “glowing” from the heat, I turned my attention to mowing the grass. A thunderstorm loomed.

As an adult, I once again live with a lake beyond my backyard. Just as in my childhood, it, too, is home to mammoth snappers, wriggly water snakes, corpulent bullfrogs and a proverbially busy beaver—not exactly inviting company for a revitalizing dip! So, after an hour’s worth of mowing in the 90-degree temps and a tall and refreshing glass of cold water, I lay down on the deck hoping to catch my breath … only to have it taken away again by a striking new perspective.

Perspective

How different everything looked from here! How quickly the clouds roiled up into huge peaks while others rolled overhead like ocean waves (Job 26:7-8). Though still puffy and white, they were rimmed in charcoal, as though an artist’s hand had outlined them to further distinguish them from the sky (Psalm 19:1).

If that wasn’t amazing enough, a turkey vulture (admittedly not a pretty sight up close) gloriously rode the thermals hundreds of feet above, floating in silhouette against the thunderhead. I wondered—from this prone position—what the bird saw as he looked down upon the neighborhood, then asked God what it is that He sees when He looks down from that lofty perspective. What am I in comparison to His greatness (Psalm 8:3-4)? I’m humbled by the obvious answer.

Perception

Thoughts tumbled like the clouds as I meditated on an earlier morning read from a parenting book. The concept of “perception versus reality” was well-explained by the author. “Perception” is your worldview, he said, based upon “the collection of ideas, axioms, principles, and beliefs that daily guide your thoughts, decisions, and actions” (Paul Lewis, The Five Key Habits of Smart Dads, 1994, ISBN 0-310-58580-5).

Again, looking up into the clouds as they changed their shapes, I pondered perspective—appearance, illusion—the vantage point from which I snap my mental photographs. Perspective is the angle from which I begin the perception process of shaping my thoughts, words and actions. My perspective, though, is self-focused and self-willed—capable of skewing my perception.

Clouds and thoughts reshaped. The same author had gone on to say that a biblical worldview “offers the wisdom of the Bible as a prime sourcebook for living—a proven, full, and integrated set of life principles, with hundreds of stories that illustrate and exemplify those skills and principles.”

A professing Christian’s reality, I concluded, must be devoid of self-focus—whether my perspective is vertical or horizontal—it must, instead, be God’s worldview. “For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world” (1 John 2:16, emphasis added).

Reality

Earlier while mowing, perspiration had stung my eyes, blurring my vision of the cutting path. Looking askance at the hazard-laden lake, I’d yearned for an invigorating plunge. Deceptively, it looked inviting and refreshing.

Now lying on the deck, still gazing at the lake, I pulled my meditative thoughts together to understand how easily my Christian perspective and perception can get blurred by a murky worldview—valueless mores stinging my eyes along the path to God’s righteousness. They might have great, inviting surface appeal, but hazards lie beneath. Seeking His perspective and perception is like swimming in pure, clear, clean water.

The thunderstorm wasn’t as imminent as I’d thought, but when the rains came, they slaked the thirsty lawn and plants. With perspiration washed away by soap and water, I, too, was refreshed from exercise, accomplishment and meditation on the pure perception of perfect reality.

Janel Johnson lives next to a four-acre lake in northeastern Ohio with her husband, Church of God, a Worldwide Association, pastor Doug Johnson. She loves God's creation (and alliteration) and accepts the reality that she won’t pursue potential post-season swimsuit sales.

See some of Janel Johnson's previous posts: "Reflections on 'Gramma Camp' 2011," "The Rain, the Wind and the Floods" and "The Look."