Every moment, of every day, is a fight for seeing. It’s a fight for living whole and full and alive.
For days, I’ve been thinking on how I live.
One word breathes down my neck and I rub my eyes, trying to rub it all away, the distraction, the do more better that drives me, the stuff that creeps in to steal my life.
I say I want to see the Lord, but do I really?
How does one see the Lord and kick up enough dust to cause a small storm at the same time?
It’s my own eyes that are clouded by the dust I kick up and all the rubbing in the world can’t wipe these eyes clear.
I sit across the table from my little people and I rub my eyes. They count numbers and trace letters and I just watch them.
I notice the sounds of pencils being sharpened. I notice Isaac’s freckles, a little brighter than usual and I love the way he counts silently as his lips make the shapes of the sounds in his head. Josiah tilts his head and bites his eraser.
I reach for the camera and it’s through the lens, that life slows and I really see these gifts.
And it’s in the slowing down that I see God, the One who gives them.
I snap photos and capture moments in time.
And I chase the One who longs for me to really see…