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softly

Yesterday, on my drive home from work, I called to check in with one of my students. I had created a resume for him; and he had recently graduated from the program with a mandate to find employment within three weeks.

He had good news to share in that he had found a job. He was excited as it was the first in a long time (as he put it, ‘this side of clean). I commented that I knew he would make it past the fear of each day. He then said something that I pondered most of the night. He said that most had stopped believing him. At a loss for what to say (imagine that), I replied ‘maybe they just need some time to adjust to the new you’. He laughed, and said, “I think it’s because you see with God’s eyes.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with such a compliment except be grateful (and blush, tho he couldn’t see it). As I sometimes do when at a loss, I laughed, “I think His eyes are grey”.

It was a good talk, but it left me thinking long past my drive home.

While I’d love to think that I always see with God’s eyes, the reality is I don’t. But it’s something I aspire to. Surely we should all aspire to see beyond our own insecurities, failures, and fears; beyond our own ego into the worth of everything. Beneath every tear, every scar, there is a story. There is value.

I pray that I find myself more and more seeing with God’s eyes. And when the story comes (and it will), I pray that I will listen with His ears and remember with His heart.

before the day
another night –
is passed to consequence
stars are led
in silence round
the sun

leaves are turned
as blossoms fair
look beyond the path
to search the sky
for angels
come undone

. . .