The Applause of Heaven - Max Lucado [30]
But an encounter was inevitable. Both knew they would eventually run into each other. And neither knew what would happen then.
The encounter occurred one day on a busy avenue. Let Daniel tell you in his own words what happened:
I saw him, but he didn't see me. I felt my fists clench and my face get hot. My initial impulse was to grab him around the throat and choke the life out of him.
But as I looked into his face, my anger began to melt. For as I saw him, I saw the image of my father. I saw my father's eyes. I saw my father's look. I saw my father's expression. And as I saw my father in his face, my enemy once again became my brother.
Daniel walked toward him. The brother stopped, turned, and started to run, but he was too slow. Daniel reached out and grabbed his shoulder. The brother winced, expecting the worst. But rather than have his throat squeezed by Daniel's hands, he found himself hugged by Daniel's big arms. And the two brothers stood in the middle of the river of people and wept.
Daniel's words are worth repeating: "When I saw the image of my father in his face, my enemy became my brother."
Seeing the father's image in the face of the enemy. Try that. The next time you see or think of the one who broke your heart, look twice. As you look at his face, look also for his face-the face of the One who forgave you. Look into the eyes of the King who wept when you pleaded for mercy. Look into the face of the Father who gave you grace when no one else gave you a chance. Find the face of the God who forgives in the face of your enemy. And then, because God has forgiven you more than you'll ever be called on to forgive in another, set your enemy-and yourself-free.
And allow the hole in your heart to heal.
Blessed are the pure in heart .. .
CHAPTER 12
THE STATE
OF THE HEART
I can still remember the first time I saw one. I had gone to work with my dad-a big thrill for a ten-year-old whose father worked in the oil fields. I sat in the cab of the pickup as tall as I could, stretching to see the endless West Texas plain. The countryside was flat and predictable, boasting nothing taller than pumpjacks and windmills. Maybe that is why the thing seemed so colossal. It stood out on the horizon like a science-fiction city.
"What's that?"
"It's a refinery," Dad answered.
A jungle of pipes and tanks and tubes and generatorsheaters, pumps, pipes, filters, valves, hoses, conduits, switches, circuits. It looked like a giant Tinker-Toy set.
The function of that maze of machinery is defined by its name: It refines. Gasoline, oil, chemicals-the refinery takes whatever comes in and purifies it so that it's ready to go out.
The refinery does for petroleum and other products what your "heart" should do for you. It takes out the bad and utilizes the good.
We tend to think of the heart as the seat of emotion. We eartt ro s, "heartaches," arta es, and "broken hearts." speak of "heartthrobs,"
But when Jesus said, "Blessed are the pure in heart," he was speaking in a different context. To Jesus' listeners, the heart was the totality of the inner person-the control tower, the cockpit. The heart was thought of as the seat of the character-the origin of desires, affections, perceptions, thoughts, reasoning, imagination, conscience, intentions, purpose, will, and faith.
Thus a proverb admonished, "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."
To the Hebrew mind, the heart is a freeway cloverleaf where all emotions and prejudices and wisdom converge. It is a switch house that receives freight cars loaded with moods, ideas, emotions, and convictions and puts them on the right track.
And just as a low-grade oil or alloyed gasoline would cause you to question the performance of a refinery, evil acts and impure thoughts cause us to question the condition of our hearts.
But the things