Take this, for instance.
My grandchildren call this The Cloud Machine.
Sounds magical and great fun. Sounds like I wish I had one.
Who would not want to be able to pump out great, poofy, white clouds? Wonderful.
It's all a matter of perspective.
In fact, this is steam rising from the cooling tower of the nuclear plant about eleven miles through the woods.
My grandchildren don't know about the evacuation plan that comes out in the plant's annual calendar. They don't think about the iodine pills that were passed out in a drive through line at the local high school to protect the livers of those near the plant in case of a melt down. They don't care about the tall siren poles located in front of their home to sound the alarm in the event of a declared emergency at the plant. They don't know that their granny kept a large suitcase filled with old clothes and supplies packed for years "just in case" evacuation was necessary.
To these babies, this is simply The Cloud Machine.
So many of our perspectives, as participants of this world, are from a "Cloud Machine" point of view. We see only a part of the truth or miss something because the truth is hidden from us.
This can be naively good, in a sense, if we can find beauty and fun in something that is potentially dangerous, like the nuclear plant "Cloud Machine." On the other hand, this cloudy perspective, or inability to see things clearly, can hinder us from having an eternal outlook if we are not careful.
Take Scripture, for instance; without the Holy Spirit to teach us, there is no way that we can understand the full truth of the Word.
Take Heaven, for instance; without going there, no way can we grasp its wonder from our earthly perspective.
Open my eyes, [Father] that I may behold wondrous things out of your law.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. (I Corinthians 13:12)