We rented a DVD not too long ago, a rare occurrence, I know, given the dearth of suitable entertainment available. This particular movie, Deja Vu, featured imaginary technology in which events from four days previous could be replayed, revealing the sequence of events that, in this case, led up to the explosion of a ferry, claiming hundreds of innocent lives.

In one particularly gruesome scene, a murder, committed with no witnesses save the victim and the murderer, is seen up close and personal. Those watching know what is going to happen, but are, of course, helpless to do anything to stop it, as it had happened four days earlier and the outcome was, as are all of our yesterdays, unchangeable. (Of course, since this was Hollywood's work, the hero was able to travel back in time to thwart the attack as well as the tragedy on the ferry. In Hollywood, as we all know, man and his ingenuity never fail.)

As that scene unfolded, I realized a truth I hadn't considered before. Whatever our eyes can see, the Lord also sees. And he also sees what we cannot see. Every motive of every man's heart is known to him. Every blow struck behind closed doors with no one to witness it except the one striking the blow and the one receiving it, is known to him. Every act of deception, of theft, of infidelity, is known to him.

Thankfully, he also sees the good in us, the almsgiver who gives without letting his left hand know what his right hand is doing, who thereby prospers to give again. The prayer lifted in a secluded closet, answered in full view. Our contrite hearts are open before him, our repentance known to him before it is known to us. Nothing is hidden from him. Our good moments, our bad moments, he sees them all. Even as we sleep, he stands watch, knowing what the new day will bring, preparing us for it even as we sleep.

I flew over the High Plains Thursday morning and evening for a day trip to Omaha dictated by the requirements of my job. According to the pilot, we cruised at an altitude of 12,000 feet. It was pitch dark, both for the flight to Omaha and the return flight home and I was intrigued by all of the sparkling lights, dancing below me. I don't fly often and this was my first time in a small aircraft. Everything about the flight intrigued me, though nothing more than my lack of apprehension about soaring high above the solid ground of the earth.

In times past, I would spend days anxiously thinking about the upcoming flight and as the time for departure drew near, my apprehension would increase, becoming full-blown anxiety (at the very least) before take-off. I had no such qualms this time. Perhaps the Lord has healed my fear of flying.

As we made our way over the sleeping land, I realized just how limited our vision really is. Each set of lights represented a small community. Families, seniors and singles all situated side by each, four walls shielding them from the elements while they slept, unaware -- unaware of the plane directly overhead, unaware of the family next door, unaware even of those in the same house, but in different rooms. In each of these communities, there are people who are mostly good, some who are not quite as good and some who are out-and-out scoundrels who shock us when their wicked deeds come to light.

And all of us, every single one of us, are known to the One who created us. Whether we have just drawn our first breath or have just drawn our last -- waiting only to exhale -- he knows us. And it is his desire that we know him, too, and the Son he sent to save us.

The promise is that one day, every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. (Philippians 2:10, 11) Fulfill that promise in your life today, lest you name him Lord too late. The technology used to create a different ending in the movie is imaginary after all and we cannot undo the least little sin from yesterday, no matter how much we would like to.

"I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation." 2 Corinthians 6:2 (NIV)

Things you won't see in heaven:

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