Since Blue Circle in Kindergarten.
He's a brainiac at math.
Me - not so much.
He read a book about mathematical fiction called "Flatland".
He was fascinated by the thought that a two-dimensional guy, a guy who only believed in HEIGHT and WIDTH, could be imprisoned in a square drawn around him.
The lines would be as effective as walls since it was all on the same level as he was - he didn't believe in "depth".
Something above the page.
Above his plane of existence.
Maybe this guy has heard of "depth".
Maybe read books on it.
Gone to meetings about it.
He might even agree with the concept and is in mental agreement with it.
And yet . . .
There he lays, trapped in a square drawn on a piece of paper.
What a moron, eh?
All the idiot has to do is sit up, stand up, and step over the line.
And yet, he doesn't.
And yet, I don't either.
Don't call me "Ishmael".
"Moron" will do nicely.
I can think of numerous reasons not to stand up.
Logical reasons.
Prudent, level-headed reasons.
But I know I want more than this flat life.
And I know depth only comes from following Him.
Wherever He leads.
All these thoughts are running through my mind, even as He's holding out His hand, telling me to grab it.
To trust Him.
"Just grab ahold and hang on."
And I want to.
I do.
But what of the world I know?
All that is flat.
Comfortably flat.
I know flat. But depth?
This whole "depth" thing is scary.
But He's holding out His hand.
"Trust Me."
I grab His hand.
He begins pulling me up.
And a whole new world of depth perception greets me.
Whooooooooa.
Talk about a life with a view, eh?