The Holiness of Imagination
and 4 Ways to Use It With God, plus a poem
I have this theory that God gave us imaginations so that we could do the impossible magic trick of being in this world while simultaneously existing somewhere in the fourth dimension, with him.
Deidre Braley
When I was an elementary school teacher, a large part of my job was teaching kids how to read and write.
There are certain indicators that suggest whether children will be successful at reading and writing, and perhaps the most important is their ability to visualize.
We used to do all sorts of activities to help them sharpen this skill. We’d teach them to create ‘a movie in their mind’ while they read, and talk about the pictures they saw there. We’d hold up sight words and allow them to study them for a moment before taking them away, asking them to picture the word in the air in front of them. We’d have them pretend they were writing in fancy colors with their fingers, imagining that neon green or blushing lilac ink was pouring from their fingernails and forming their spelling words on the blank spaces on their desks.
I am utterly convinced that our ability to visualize is also directly related to our ability to pray and, in turn, enjoy God’s presence.
Because, as you might have noticed, we can’t see God. And if our brains are stuck only on the tangible, physical world around us, it makes it hard to commune with the Almighty. We will be thinking of him but seeing the weird stain on the carpet and wondering where it came from. We’ll be wanting to “enter his courts” and “worship [him] in the splendor of his holiness” (Psalm 96: 8-9), but we’ll find ourselves stuck in the not-so-splendrous surroundings of our messy cars, our disordered offices, our busy lives.
I have this theory that God gave us imaginations so that we could do the impossible magic trick of being in this world while simultaneously existing somewhere in the fourth dimension1, with him. I also have this theory that people are a bit scared of their imaginations. They don’t quite trust them, I think. They’re afraid they’ll manifest something that is untrue, untrustworthy, ungodlike. Or maybe they just don’t think their imaginator really, well…imagines.
Here’s the good news. I think that just as children can be taught how to use their imaginations to bring literature to life, adults can be taught to use theirs to bring God to life. [Of course, he already is alive—but to many of us, he doesn’t yet exist beyond the black letters that spell G O D on the pages of our Bibles.]
And listen. We don’t have to be all weird about it. This isn’t about making stuff up and pretending to be holier than we are. It’s about allowing our physical eyes to go blind for a while so that the Holy Spirit can illuminate a different picture in a different dimension. And by golly—he will! It takes a bit of brain power to practice this shutting-down of our flesh-and-blood senses, but I have found that—on occasions where I’ve let him cover my outside eyes so I can really see—God will use imagery and pictures to teach and encourage me in ways that no words could ever communicate.
The poem I shared at the start of this post is an example of this. Here, I try to use words to describe what he showed me in my imagination: a sliver of sun, making a brief and sparkling appearance before the dark side of the earth dipped and rotated on its axis, covering the light once again.
What that communicated to me: even though I was in a season of unsettledness, and that sometimes it was hard to see light and dazzling hope, it was there. Just like that sliver of sun. Though I was sitting on the dark side of the earth, where the sun was hidden, it didn’t change the fact of the sun’s existence. And when I saw that image—that hint of light—I felt assured that in time, the earth would rotate again, and I would see the full radiance of the sun once more.
God didn’t use words to tell me that. But I knew, sure as could be, that when this picture came into my mind, he was giving me a very personal bit of encouragement. And I think this is what he wants to do with all of us: use our implanted imaginations to help us see that which cannot be iterated.
I am utterly convinced that our ability to visualize is also directly related to our ability to pray and, in turn, enjoy God’s presence.
If this feels foreign & crazy & impossible to you, here are some steps you might take to get started. I stole most of them from my years of teaching. Like I said: learning how to tap into our imaginations is something that can be taught—whether it’s literature we’re talking about…or our souls.
4 Ways to Use Your Imagination With God
When you’re reading your Bible, look at one single line. Ask, If this was a movie in my head rather than words on paper, what would I be seeing right now? Do not move on until you can see the picture, in full color.
When you’re praying, visualize what/who you’re talking to God about. One example: Do you want your father to heal from cancer? What does cancer look like to you? Imagine God coming around your father, gathering him up into his arms, his holy wholeness soaking over him and into his body and evaporating the cancer. Please note: I’m not suggesting this as a practice in manifesting our own wills or pretending we are God. I am suggesting this because it helps us to pray more thoroughly and passionately, and to stay focused amidst the distractions that ping against our brains all day long.
When you want to just be with God and experience him and listen to him, picture him in the room with you. Or picture yourself walking into his house. I find it’s easier to picture Jesus, because Jesus had a human body. And I like thinking about what his house would be like. I always imagine it to be a modest, cheery place. He’s usually cooking eggs in the kitchen.
Close your eyes and be quiet. And by quiet, I mean silent with your lips, but also silent with your brain. Ask the Holy Spirit to show you what he wants you to see. Truly—just say, “Holy Spirit, can you show me what you want me to see?” And then don’t try to squint your eyes and think smart thoughts and make it come into existence. Just rest and wait. You might be surprised what comes into your imagination. You’ll know it’s not from you if it seems like something you wouldn’t have thought of on your own.
Give it a try! Let me know how it goes.
And…bonus points if you put that picture into poetry [wink]!
Honestly, guys, I don’t know that the fourth dimension is the right way to talk about where God is. I did a quick Google search on the fourth dimension, and my mind promptly pickled. Mathematicians and scientists are a rare breed; how on EARTH do they even figure this stuff out? Regardless. I love talking about God as existing in the fourth dimension—it sounds kind of dreamy, doesn’t it? What can I say—I’m a poet, not a physicist.
That's a great essay and I especially love the last paragraph about the 4th dimension :) Who doesn't struggle with our mind pinging around in every direction when we 're talking to God. I like the illustration of Jesus cooking eggs. Maybe I'll think of God sitting on the porch outside with me on the porch and looking at the chipmunks.
This was so eye opening Deidre. I have never thought of imagination and God in the same breath and I love the idea of sort of being in two places at once. Beautiful.