Since earliest memory, I have been looking out windows. The landscape has always been a visual calling card, inviting me out beyond where I felt stuck. From the cornrows that converged on the furthest field line, to the valleys suggested just before the horizon, vistas can carry vision beyond where our feet are presently grounded.
But glimpses are not enough to sustain a heavy heart. Gravity or inertia seem to hold us in the same old place. The glimpses are a tease, a taste only. When I was in college, shattered after the death of a close friend, I started paying attention to the life-giving words of Jesus. I then heard a lecture on the visions of Isaiah, the ancient Hebrew prophet. He was a landscaper with words. And what he sketched out is the overall grand plan as God weaves through the valleys of history. Isaiah saw Jesus clearly on the horizon, hundreds of years before He arrived. I was hooked, and that was only the beginning. The entire collection we call the Bible is a visual journey in time. And that journey is continuing. Everything I make has been saturated by how my life has been changed by God’s good hope and His faithful promise that more is coming. I sensed it out the window early on. Now I know His name.