My dog does not understand how I can sit for hours flipping pages in a book. I hold it out to her, but she sniffs it disdainfully and walks away. Where I see another whole world, she sees only ink and paper. My book is utter foolishness to her who cannot read.
As I’m thinking about this, I am reminded of a similar sentiment Paul wrote to the Corinthians. For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God (1 Corinthians 1:18). Indeed, where some see only wood, others see so much more.
I am reminded of this again, when the tables are turned, and I am dragging my dog away from some ordinary clump of grass that she is sniffing intently. It is only blades of grass to me, but it is clearly something more to her. There is another whole world I cannot see, except to watch her enter into it.
I think of the book, and the grass, and the cross. It is hard to imagine, but it is not impossible to believe: beyond what I know here, there could be something more.
For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God (1 Corinthians 1:18).