Angi Aymond

I sat in the chair. Listening. Nodding. But inwardly, disagreeing.

My husband and I were having another conversation about our next house. Specifically, the size of our next house. And let me be honest right out of the gate:  that’s never a topic on which we agree.

For the holidays, I had rearranged our living room furniture. While the new grouping was more practical, in my opinion, it was less aesthetically pleasing. But it had been my idea, so…it stayed. And it was from this newly created position that I was listening to my husband’s case.

“This living room is really big. It’s huge in comparison to a lot of new houses I’ve seen.”

Nod.

“We won’t need a living space any larger than these dimensions. I’m telling you.”

Nod.

I nodded. But I did not agree.

From where I sat, looking at him, our living space was small. Cozy and inviting. But a bit cramped. Too cramped for a forever house.

How could he not see that? How could we be sitting in the same room? Seeing the same walls?

But that night was not the night for pleading my case for a larger living space in a nonexistent house. (A bit of wisdom sneaks in during fifty-five plus years.)

A few days later…I don’t really know when or how much time had passed. It’s just a convenient segue. But later. I was sitting on our sofa. The spot my dear husband had been sitting whilst he was pleading his case. And I saw it. I saw what he had seen.

From that position — from that perspective — our living room did look spacious enough. Even for a forever home.

But I was still skeptical. So, I sat in every possible spot in the living room. (I know. My crazy is showing.) That chair over there. That spot on the sofa. And that spot. On that poorly placed piece of furniture that hadn’t found its way to the dumpster. And from every single spot in the living room, the room appeared more than spacious enough.

The only position in the room that gave the illusion of the living space being too small was the one chair I had been sitting in during the ‘I’m not liking this’ conversation.

This past weekend, I decided to share my newly found insight with my hubby. So, I had him sit in every available position in the living room, saving the ‘gotcha chair’ for last. (Yep. Still showing.) He was just as amazed as I was.

Yes. The gotcha’ chair. Because from that chair, that perspective, things looked small. And cramped. Things looked like everything that wasn’t good.

Oh, how many times have I sat in a gotcha chair?!

Not actual chairs, of course. But places of comfort where what I saw seemed right. What I wanted seemed best. Places where my perspective was narrow. Self-focused.

Our perspective is the way we see things. Our viewpoint. Not necessarily the way things are in reality. And it’s our perspective that influences every part of us. Our thoughts. Our beliefs. Our feelings. And our actions.

For those of us who follow Jesus, it’s imperative that our perspectives are aligned with God and His point of view. Yea. I know. From eternity past to eternity future is quite a perspective. And here on this earth, we’ll never get it. Not competely.

⁸ “For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord.
⁹ “For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways
And My thoughts than your thoughts.

ISAIAH 55

But we can choose to get out of the chairs that we know give us a distorted view of reality. We can study God’s word. Spend time with Him in prayer. Love others through action. And let the mysterious work of the Holy Spirit give us God’s point of view.

If you want to see things like God sees them, don’t sit in the gotcha chair!