There were lights in the mist. I glanced at the sun overhead as if to reassure myself that it was in fact daylight, that the glare that squinted my eyelids reflected from the snow. Surely that’s all it was, my eyes playing tricks. It was just bright spots under the trees where the light made it through the canopy.
There was no canopy. The branches were bare except for the straight evergreens, but they stretched over summer shadows. And there were lights, dancing now in a fog that drifted like smoke. I shivered, shuddered really, but my feet wouldn’t obey my will to run. Run as fast as you can. Run away!
There were footprints on the bridge. Someone had scraped the path, and the handrails might have never seen snow, but the boards underfoot were invisible through a layer of scuffled snow and ice. Flakes puffed up and fell again as I watched, leaving new marks. My teeth chattered, and I shook my head frantically.
Gran had told me of the frost brownies. Tales for children. No serious adult would believe such fairy stories, but then again Gran had always been a bit strange. A puff of snow fell across my shoe and I stared at it without comprehension. Ice crawled up my leg, tickled my spine like sweat in the summer except in reverse. My hair crackled slightly and a loose lock fell into my face, swinging oddly. Then it giggled.
When Indiana Jones went to find the Grail, he had to cross a wide, deep chasm with no bridge in sight. His father told him the only way to cross was to take a step out over the chasm, a “leap of faith.” As soon as Indy stepped out as instructed, believing that somehow he would be able to cross, a bridge appeared beneath his feet. It had always been there, he just couldn’t see it until he used it.
The above story is obviously fictional, but it reflects a Biblical truth. The author of the letter to the Hebrew Christians wrote that faith is the reality of hope and the evidence of the unseen. In other words, in order to see what God has in store we have to step out like Indy, knowing that something is there. After we are willing to do that, after we can allow ourselves to know that truth transcends our limited sight, He allows us to see Him.
Enoch lived in the millennia before the flood reset the earth, in a time when men lived for hundreds of years and had opportunity to explore every possible imagination, good or evil. When most others pursued their own ends and lost favor with their Creator, Enoch lived his life in harmony with the God he could not see. As a reward, he was given a gift of eternal life without death, his body changed to walk in the physical presence of God. He saw God more completely than any other before or since.
Moses, though raised with every opportunity to pursue physical wealth and power, chose the life of a nomad chieftain in order to be close to God. He sought to know God, and submitted his will to loneliness, struggle, and abuse from the people he was tasked to lead. His anger was never roused so greatly as when he saw God disrespected, and when given the opportunity asked to see his protector. He didn’t want proof, only deeper connection, just as you or I would seek to look at and touch someone we love. Because Moses knew God so intimately as to crave such a thing, God allowed the privilege to the point that Moses himself carried so much of God’s glory that other humans could not physically look at him without pain.
Elijah stood almost alone in a nation that hated God. Without divine help his life would have been forfeit many times for his persistence in declaring God’s warnings to people who wanted nothing to do with God. As a reward for a lifetime of faithful service, God gave him Enoch’s gift, and carried him to eternity without death in a fiery chariot of honor.
When Elijah’s protégé, Elisha, was called to God’s service from his life as a wealthy farmer in that same rebellious nation, he not only obeyed, but quite literally burned the trappings of his old life as a sacrifice. He removed his own incentive to ever turn back. He knew God without seeing any evidence of His existence in the land. As a result he was allowed to see Elijah’s divine chariot, and it seems that he was given an even greater gift. Many years later when enemies surrounded his home, death seemed certain, and a fearful servant cried to him, Elisha asked God to show the servant what Elisha himself could apparently already see: an angel host greater than any human army standing ready to defend them. Because Elisha believed in what was invisible, God made it visible to Him.
Daniel and his friends faced immersion in an alien, pagan culture as boys. Despite what seemed to the rest of the Jewish people as visible signs of God’s desertion, the boys trusted that He was still there protecting them and held firmly to a life that honored Him. As a result, God Himself walked with three of them in human form in fires that should have vaporized them and brought them through alive. Daniel’s faith was so strong that in spite of all odds against him that faith gained respect from one godless king after another. Because he knew without seeing that God was with him, God walked with him in human form and told him the history of the next millennium in detail before any of it happened.
When Stephen was arrested for persisting in teaching and working when opposed by the Jewish counsel, his faith shone so brightly in him that even his accusers compared him to an angel of God. He faced what he knew would be at least great pain, if not death, and told a roomful of men who hated him about the power of God. When they predictably sentenced him to a brutal death, God allowed his physical eyes to see the spiritual world he entered by the blows of his enemies’ stones. Stephen saw the glory of God and Christ ruling over all because he had believed it without sight.
I can’t say that I have heard of anyone in our own age experiencing such a gift. Even in ages past it was a rare thing, but in two thousand years not a reference has been recorded. It’s a sobering thought to consider our own faith in light of that which resulted in such intimacy. Perhaps God doesn’t give such obvious boons anymore since He lived and died and rose as a human, but what if He would and our faith isn’t strong enough? Do we have the surety of God to do right while surrounded by doubt and evil? Do we have the surety of God to actively look for glimpses of His glory, to beg for a glance at even the smallest part of Him? Do we have the surety of God to walk away from everything we are and become something else when service to Him requires it? Do we have the surety of God to continue a godly life in the face of abuse and death? Do we have the surety of God to step out over the abyss and find the bridge under our feet, or will we huddle forever whimpering on the ledge while the bridge remains forever invisible?
She touched the red leaves, just a brush as light as breath that left them trembling in the reflection from the crystal. They were the only color in the pitch black tent, tiny sparks accentuating the crystal’s glow.
It was all an illusion, of course. The light absorbent black drapes lining the inside of the tent led to an all but invisible gap at the pinnacle, allowing a single shift of light that produced a seemingly innate glow in the crystal directly below it while leaving the rest of the tent in impenetrable darkness.
Including Jet. How long had it been since she had been seen by another human? How long since the shadow ring had claimed her for eternal darkness? The illusion that awed carnival patrons hid her secret that held her forever aloof from the world.
Already knowing what she would see, she cupped her hands around the crystal. The leaves vanished, but no hands were visible. Only empty darkness that threatened to overwhelm the solitary gleam of light. This tent, this single crystal with its trappings, remained her last link with humanity, the last reason for human speech to ever address her.
The flap lifted and an unidentifiable figure slipped inside, their rapid breathing loud in the black hole that was her existence. “You wish to speak to the Shadow?” she whispered from the shelter of the crystal. “What is your deepest desire?”
The Word Worker 