Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Letter to the fly on the wall

A letter to the fly on the wall,

I read the gospels with longing. The retellings stir things to life deep in the core of all that makes me a woman, and of all that was broken as a girl. I follow Jesus’ steps with every word. I find myself dancing around him at times, as if he’s still-framed and I examine his hands, his knees, his eyes. I wonder and ponder; What was it like to be loved by him?

If only I could have been you. A simple fly on the wall of the temple. What would you have seen on that day the ruckus started? Did it seem as suspicious to you as it does to me every time I read the account. If only I could have been there.

Dust would cover my knees as I dropped to her side. I would look up and try to see what she saw in the teacher's eyes when he uttered the words, “Where are your accusers. Go and sin no more.” I would watch her face slowly rise. I’d be riveted by his eyes fixed fast on her heart. I could imagine that recognition of grace spreading across her features, a softening coming to his gaze.

There’s that longing again.

There is another wall that you may have perched upon. Perhaps the air was a bit stuffy in that room as the afternoon gave way to evening. Perhaps refreshing desert breezes began to drift among the eager disciples as they listened intently to the Master.

Often I try to insert myself into that scene. Mary at the knee of her Lord with agitated banging and exaggerated exclamations coming from the kitchen. I would allow my knees to bend and settle, not too close. Perhaps beyond the intimate circle but not too far. I want to see his face. I want to experience the animation and fervor that might have filled the conversation. And to drink in the laughter, and thrill at the testimonies of all they had seen. The moments may have seemed ordinary until Martha entered and with all that energy pressed the point to the Lord. And then I would have leaned forward. I would have wanted to hear him affirm Mary, to hear him place a priority on her relationship with him, her seeking him, her intentional pursuit of him… I wish I had been there to soak in the meaning of it all. At that phrase, “But Mary,” the air must have thickened. Did his focus slide to Mary’s face in that slip of time? What expression passed from one heart to the next? And what did Martha see on his face through this whole exchange. There are those Martha moments when I could use a firm but beckoning exchange with the Lord to help me remember to whom I belong.

In reality, I want to be more than the fly on the wall. I know I’m to live by faith and I’m willing to do that. Many times the Lord speaks sweetly to my heart in much the same way that he most likely did while wandering this earth. But, I believe there is so much more that will not be satisfied this side of heaven, and the intense longing remains for that affirmation that can pass through the eyes, through the tender look, through the innocence of an intimate gesture. It’s the expression of a love that is already guaranteed, a love that is already sealed by a covenant that’s as solid as the vast heart of my King. It's a love I know in part. I await to know it in it's fullness.

Until that day. Until that unveiling of the eyes, I am content to wonder and ponder what it was like for you as a fly on the wall.

Today I'm linking up with Ruth Povey and Sabrina Fowles at their Letter To series. Come on over and join the fun!

Letters To
I'm also linking up at Titus Tuesday!


  1. Oh wow, I would have loved to be there too. I love your take on this prompt! We can only imagine how it was in those moments, so many unanswered questions, and you've captured that beautifully x

  2. I love these stories in the Bible and have also wondered what it would have been like to actually be there. A lovely letter.