My living room boasts two large windows, one about ten feet wide and the other about eight. Heavy floor-to-ceiling decorator drapes hang from each. I don’t know how much they weigh. Heavy. Took forever to find traverse rods long enough and substantial enough to support them.
A few gentle tugs on a cord in the morning part the veil. Darkness flees, and a light flood washes over the room. I stand face to face with the sun. Momentarily blinded, I shade my eyes.
I need more time in the light.
Dust particles dance while smears and smudges clap in time.
Exposed.
The animals saunter in to spy out the land and bask in the warmth.
I think about Moses and how his face glowed after an encounter with the Almighty and how the people could not look at him unless he veiled his face.
My family does not shrink back from me. I don’t need a veil.
Pity.
I need more time in the Light.
My mind wanders to another veil. Purple and blue and scarlet. Thirty feet wide. Sixty feet long. The thickness of a man’s palm–about four inches. (Some sources say three.) Tradition says it took 300 priests to hang it, and Josephus says horses hooked to each side could not tear it.
The veil separated the Holy from the Most Holy. Only the high priest could enter once a year on the Day of Atonement. It symbolized sinful man’s separation from a holy God.
A division.
A barrier.
Christ’s body.
And when Jesus died, the veil split from top to bottom.
A Light flood.
Exposed.
A way.
Directly into His presence.
Face to face.
I need more time in the Light.
“And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.” Matthew 27:50-51 (NIV)
“Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.” Hebrews 10:19-22 (NIV)
Copyright © 2010 by Sandra Heska King
Very good. I wish people could see my face glow, too… When I "glow" visibly it's connected to the times I purposely or accidentally sprayed a little make-up glittery stuff on my hair and if drifted down to my face. Oh, well. Eventually, heaven's glow will be my mainstay. [I think we think — process — similarly … which can be good and can be a little on the "hmmm!" side of life.]
Oh, yes … more Son shine … I really enjoy your writing!
@caryjo: We should all live more on the "hmmm" and amazing side of life. Thanks so much for dropping by.
@Susan: Thank you. I love yours!