It’s early. The daily list made…
It’s time to move off my quiet corner of the couch.
On my way, I lean in to where sleepy heads rest on sleepy pillows, eyes closed shut. I linger, here, several minutes…because I can.
In the back room, my hands start to move. I pack for a trip even as my heart trips all over this—all over the news. And there’s the familiar weight and ache that bows me over and bends me down till all I see is dirt, suffering, and Glory lost.
You don’t look for it; it looks for you.
And there’s this bowing and bending that happens and like those sleepy heads, I want to close my eyes and close myself off. Like a clam shell.
I move down the hall, past my curl up corner and the book I’m reading. Here are honest looks and helping hands.
Real people living life ordinary, eyes wide open.
And I’ve lingered long over a simple salutation. An everyday greeting in a small corner of the world—and Zulu phrase, “I see you.”
Because closing my eyes closes out more than I realize.
Like the kind of Glory that takes your breath away…
Peter, with John at his side, looked him straight in the eye… He grabbed him by the right hand and pulled him up (Act 3: 4,7 MSG).
In the small it’s no small thing to live with eyes wide open. Mixing my small part with God’s big part, eyes peeled for the miracle—a little piece of Glory found.
Eyes wide open in play-groups…in the middle of shameful whispers and eyes all haunted, or in fatherless rooms full of blindness, deformity, and disease, or, in the middle of the bathroom mirror…looking back at you. What if allowing ourselves to be overwhelmed by suffering…opens us up to be overwhelmed by God?
Peter, with John at his side, looked him straight in the eye (Acts 3:4, MSG).
Change begins with an honest look. -Max Lucado
This prose over praise mix by All Sons and Daughters is a particular favorite of mine. Here suffering… meets the God Who Sees! There’s Glory, here. Promise. Enjoy.