12 Days of Thanksgiving: V

Vision.

I’ve been listening to the wheels of imagination turning recently with Little Drummer Boy and Bug. As they play together in those sometimes rare moments of being best friends, I’m always amazed by the random adventures of Thomas the Tank Engine or Lightning McQueen or whatever toy has the fortune of being involved. At our house, it’s a common occurrence for dinosaurs, asteroids, firemen and race cars to occupy the same world view. As I listen to them drawing pictures and the running commentary that accompanies the marks on the page, the same wonder ensues. Railway tunnels, fire-breathing dragons and rainbows peacefully co-exist in that world, and any alarm sounded is quickly squelched by simply turning the page. What a blessing an imagination is! What a gift to be able to envision something that can’t be seen!

The most concise definition of faith can be found in the book of Hebrews… “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” The ability to “see” what isn’t there is faith at its core, to take our vision as evidence of what is possible. To embrace it as reality. That truth becomes no more apparent than in times of difficulty, times when the circumstances we CAN see are perhaps what we don’t want to see. Times when the reality is less than what we want for ourselves. In those times, we are tempted to give up, to let our courage give way to acceptance or fear. In those times, we are tempted to despair. It’s part of the human condition. The proverb rings true; “where there is no vision, the people perish.”

My children have become such a vibrant example of the concept of possibility. In their minds, anything is possible. They have no preconceptions about what can happen, and what can happen simultaneously. More and more, I’m realizing that it is this vision that fuels hope. And faith. It allows us to see byond where we are. It enables us to imagine a different place or time or circumstance, to see ourselves differently. It makes the impossible possible. It makes us willing to lay aside assumptions. It encourages us to see our best selves, our best lives. And to reach for it.

I started this year on a quest for courage, adopting it as my “theme word.” I don’t know how much courage I’ve actually attained, but I can see evidence of courageous acts. Small inclinations toward the possible I can see. Tiny tangible steps toward becoming more of what I want to be. This year, I’m so thankful for the vision that fuels that courage, for the ability to see beyond the evident and take that vision as evidence of what might be. Of what can be.