The Poem in Reflected Light

This week, I’ve noticed something magical that happens in my living room between 8:30 and about 9:15am.

We live in a little townhome-style apartment, and the buildings in our complex are arranged so that they face each other in pairs. The building across from us is so close (about 15 feet) and we’re facing such a way that most of the time the sun doesn’t quite make it through our windows except for a glowy pocket in the afternoon between about 3:30 and 5pm. But a few days ago I happened come downstairs at 8:30am (I’m usually at school) and the living room was all aglow with light. I looked out and realized that the sun was reflecting off the upstairs window of the apartment across the way, and the effect was of real sunlight, all yellow and glorious lighting up our wall and armchair.

I was awed by how convincing the light was, how the echo of the sun was so like the real thing. Immediately, I saw a poem in this, and the allegory began to write itself in my mind.

Are we not as glass, reflecting the Light?

“But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

2 Corinthians 3:18.

The veil between us and the Lord has been removed. Our holy and perfect and good God is now with us through the death and resurrection of Christ. And through us who carry this redemption story, Christ is seen. To me, all the created world is a mirror or a window to God — but in many ways, the most powerful reflection of Him is seen in us. We are a terribly marred image — all cracked and foggy and patina-ed — but we are being transformed into His likeness everyday. I think it speaks to Who God is, that His most erring creation is also who He chooses to carry Himself into the world. We are but clay jars carrying treasure (2 For 4:7), we are but glinting windows to His grace.

This blog post is taken from my April 14, 2024 newsletter — sign up here to be the first to read.