Eyes To See Like He Sees

{Today I am linking up over at Lisa Jo’s for some fun on Friday. Today we are writing for five minutes on the word prompt see. No editing, no over thinking, just writing for five minutes. Come see what the fun is all about at The Gypsy Mama’s blog. Ready, go, write}

I see him there.  Yes right there working through this preparation to go off to camp, no its not off to war.  We had dinner with a friend this week, he’d just gotten that call.  You know the dreaded one, his nephew had just been shot in Afghanistan.  No its not that.

The eyes of my head see the mess, the struggle, the confusion, the ADHD still there tangling up the processes of life.

Messy messes and turmoil.  No organization.  Upheaval.  The eyes of my heart know that it is this.

I have seen this for years now, how it challenges and entangles and strangles.

Today he leaves for camp and I will see through blurry eyes a child soon to be a man, in months now, walking out the door to be a counselor, to help others.

And I know that when he walks back in the door I will see transformation and change. I will see maturity and new talents and experiences that have jumped on his back for the trip back home.

But more than anything while he is gone, I want to learn to see him through the eyes of God.  To see past and through and deeply down into his inner places of hurt and pain, the way God sees.

Kingdom eyes please give me the eyes to see like You.

STOP

Small Things Take Up A Lot Of Space

“Sometimes”, said Pooh,” the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” —A.A. Milne

There is amazing power in the one small thing.  One small thing can create a big impact on a body, a soul, a mind, a heart, a moment, a day.

Like the last drop of rain on a leaf is enough to break the bough, tipping the scale, tipping it over.

Rippling through for better or worse, making its mark, this one small thing can impact with force.

One small fleck of dust in the eye distracts and blurs vision.

One small splinter in the finger causes pain and attention directed to the throbbing digit.

 And as a crack in the hull can sink the Titantic,  one word can start a war, one gesture can mend a wounded spirit, so one small action can really  shake things up.

I woke early, very early, restless.

What a slow learner I am.  How slowly I let lessons creep in, settle in and then stay.

I had stumbled, tripped up, been tripped up. And wanting a do-over, yearning for new-found patience, hungry for a re-written script of my narrative was surely at the root of my sleeplessness.

And a message pops up in the pre-dawn hours which changes me.  It softens and it loves through a back-lit screen.  It tenderizes the tough spots. And salves the tender ones.

A note so simple saying she just didn’t know why but she was praying for me.

A small few black words on a white background delivering hope and ecouragement.  The floodgates open and my insides want to erupt with the ripeness of the moment, hitting the bullseye of my heart with perfection.  Love crawling across a screen to meet my insomnia and my woundedness.

I receive so much from a young mother who is up nursing her baby.  She also nurses my soul.

She says that she just doesn’t know why but she can’t stop thinking of me, I am stuck in her head and when that happens she just prays.  So, she continues, “you are getting a lot of prayers.” And she says she just wanted to check in with me.

I will get to thank her today and to wrap my arms around her sweet spirit. And I will smell and touch and hug her first-born son, who is weeks old.

Because her one sweet small note to me opened up communication, I am now privileged to spend time over lunch and a new born with this precious young woman. Amazing grace. And if a note on a screen can deliver such joy and hope, I cannot imagine what time in the flesh will present to this soul.

And oh, how I want to stretch this forward to another. To go be small to someone today. To show-up in a life, to a heart, to a friend, to a stranger in all my smallness.

Don’t we long for these encounters with others.  How many have I missed.

Small opportunity.

Small invitation.

Small calls to be obedient in love, in encouragement, in offering a lifeline.

This blog is a baby.  It is a new-born by the world’s standards, months old.

As it grows up a little, I pray that God will use these pages in a small way.

But more importantly, that I will have ears to hear, and a heart to listen.

As I write, and I blog, and I listen, and respond, and dig in, and wrestle with, and process, and  tackle, and ponder and question, my hope and prayer is that it is pleasing to Him.

My sweet friend has taken up a lot of space in my heart today. Her gesture just sits there being all big and beautiful.

May we all go seek out and be one small thing in someone’s life today, delivering Joy, Hope, and Grace by the boatload.

I started my day praying for forgiveness and I will probably end it the same way.  But maybe  in the in-between times God can use this broken soul to be a blessing to another, to serve as I have been served in love and in obedience.

Picking and Choosing Good Fruit

But the fuit of the spirit is love, joy, forebearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Galatians 5:22

Dear Mother of Mine,

thank you. for loving.

for raising, for sacrificing, for taking a fork in the road, teaching three and more, exhausting yourself for others, showing us such good things, pointing us to Him, loving our Father for decades, teaching us the beautiful, loving our children, and the more of the story which is told and untold of love in family, behind the walls, inside the home.

thank you.

we bless you and honor you.

we love you.

I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day from deep down places in my heart to yours.

I am blessed because of you.

wishing Grace…….