
Read Time: 4 minutes
by AJ Canterbury
Perspective. If I summed up the last decade of my life, the word perspective would be the most appropriate. It was a change in perspective that carried me from despair to hope, from anxiety to rest, from defeat to purpose.
At the dawn of every new year, it has become popular to choose a word for the year, a word that embodies where you want your year to go, what you want to chase after, and how you want the year to be remembered. My aim is not to recommend the practice to you for the word was not claimed in the same way. Two important distinctions mark how I arrived at my word of the decade.
First, I didn’t choose the word.
Life had reached a crisis point. After nearly ten years post-diagnosis with Friedreich’s Ataxia, the progression of the disability exhausted me. Awakening each morning to greet the disease that had not packed up and moved on but intended to continue to challenge my day took its toll on me physically and emotionally, but most critically spiritually.
Unlike how words of the year are usually selected, I wasn’t seeking a change of perspective. It implied an internal change of focus, and that hardly seemed to fit the problem I faced. An optimistic, silver-lining point of view, where I viewed the wilting garden around me as the potential of good fertilizer instead of dead flowers, couldn’t enliven my countenance. That was all I figured a new perspective offered.
I suppose if I had been looking for a word, I would have chosen something like healing. Or restored. Or victory.
What I believed blocked my path was my circumstances. I didn’t need to change my focus, I just needed God to remove them.
He chose the word for me. Perspective was the work he set out to produce in me, not what I set to grow into.
Secondly, my heart didn’t want it.
Healing was all I could think about in those days, and as the disease progressed the feeling only intensified. Initially after the diagnosis, I committed to engage life in all the ways that I could and willed to not let the disease stop me. Over time, it became clear that the disease’s assault showed no sign of surrender and I was kept from being a part of certain things against my will.
The disease intended to keep moving forward. I couldn’t fight it off, so I needed delivered from it.
But I couldn’t get God to say yes to my healing. All I noticed was the disappointments piling up in the corner of my mind, and as it grew it crept further into view. Soon it was all I could see.
My myopic vision fixated on self and saw no resolution apart from absolute deliverance from the problem. In fact, my heart refused to be comforted by anything other than physical healing. I did not want to consider anything else. I was tired and distraught.
I wasn’t seeking a perspective change. I didn’t know it was what I needed. But God graciously led me to it.
God’s Word is what exposed me to the perspective change that would be my comfort.
The Spirit primarily used the verses from Colossians to begin my perspective shift. “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” (Colossians 3:1-4, ESV)
Here, the Apostle Paul exhorts the church at Colossae to keep in mind who they are now in Jesus. After he rose from the dead, Jesus took his seat beside God, having completed the mission to defeat sin and death. Since the Colossians have believed in Christ, Paul tells them they have been raised with him and are united with him.
Their hope sits victoriously and eternally on the throne in heaven. They need to set (keep) their eyes on that reality. Not focusing on things of this world, which Paul refers to as light (small) and momentary elsewhere. (2 Cor. 4:17)
The hope of these Christians rests in their life being “hidden in Christ.” Their hidden life does not mean they need to go on a hunt to find it. The idea is that life is kept and protected by Christ so it cannot be taken from them.
Whatever their earthly circumstances, and no matter how aggressive realities demanded their attention or tore into their hearts, their focus was to remain on the victorious one who reigns in heaven and guards their eternal life. That heavenly reality is so much greater than the twists and hurts of this world. It deserves their undivided attention, and it is life-giving.
When I read the scripture, I found it both a command to not allow my situation to break my sight from the triumph of Christ, but I also found it to be an invitation. An invitation to discard my worries of the future progression of my disease and enter the rest of the Reigning One.
God called me to exchange my perspective. I discovered that both my fear and hope remained in earthly things. I feared the progression of my disability would prohibit from pursuing the happiness and success the world could offer and it would confiscate my abilities (like my speech and independence) where I found my identity. My hope was my suffering being dispelled from this life.
I needed to take my eyes off of my present circumstances, and to look up to him who rescued me through his death and is using every aspect of my life to conform me to the image of his son (Rom. 8:29) and glorify his name (1 Pet. 2:9). No matter what the disability took from me, my life was kept in Jesus who earned the final victory.
As I fought to do that I found the perspective change to be comforting. Comforting because the influence of heaven was greater than that of the world. Comforting because it centered my eyes on the works of God and it took them off of self and my despair. Comforting because I was part of something of more value than the vapor of this earthly existence.
God used more than just a verse from Colossians to shift my perspective from my hurts and disappointments to him and his purposes. His Word is full of them, and he keeps teaching me from them. But he used Colossians 3:1-4 to begin opening my eyes to the greater works he was accomplishing.
My hope for this blog is that I can share the ways God has changed my perspective and the benefits that has done to my soul. My prayer is that from my journey you may discover that this God can do the same transformation in you.
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