Unseeing

Going all the way back as far as memory will take me, looking for answers to the suffering in my own life and that of those I hold most dear, to this one thing I’m led. Having eyes but not seeing. Of this we are all sometimes guilty. The distractions in our own minds blind us to what is right in front of us. Tricky are our thoughts, too, as when we sometimes actually glimpse what is there, the old self protection overrides our sight and tells us we aren’t seeing well and gives us another narrative to believe. It is often this that guides our behaviors, dictates our reactions, and leaves those hurting out. Out of our immediate care and we push them, then, out of our reach. None of this happens on purpose in many cases, but it happens all the time…

Desperation. Do you know it? That feeling? A need you can’t even name that rises up and consumes, pulling you, your thoughts, feelings, begging for acceptance. It’s real. For those who haven’t experienced, you can’t know. But for most of us, we do. It’s not something we are comfortable admitting, makes us feel small and weak, but it’s really just being human, and somewhere along the way, we’ve lost a sense of our worth and are desperate for someone to convince us that we do matter. We all do, you know, the same. All lives, all lives matter. Do you see?

How do we become so misguided? I’ve asked that question since my early 20’s when I embarked on a journey into the books, all of them most recommended the world over that claims to have the answers to human error and suffering. I ended up coming right back to the one I had begun with as it holds true for all people, in all places at all times. Sin is the problem, mine and yours. Jesus is the answer, to know Him, to find acceptance in Him, to find comfort, strength, and His consuming love, and then heaven with Him. Only there, only then will it be finished for us.

As a mom and teacher, I fail. I fail when I’m tired and worn out, when my own old left-over feelings of desperation from wrongs of long ago come flooding back, I get lost a little, have to swim through that old dark, murky pond of memory again. I go running. Back to His Word, to His love. Unfailing. Unending. He never leaves me unseen. He is The God Who Sees. El Roi.

He brings me back. He opens my eyes to see again those who He has given to me. He stirs that great love and uses those same old hurtful memories to open my eyes to see. He says, “love. Love them.” He shows me my children so that I can see. “I see you,” I can say. I see your worth. And I do…

Most of my life has been like sorting through mountains of things having to lay aside almost every item I pick up saying, “not that.” Though so incredibly complex this world, most everything can be traced to the same foundational elements. There are big failures and little failures, but most unravel to the same exact place. When we fail to see and know, the result is always hurt.

Words matter. Thoughts matter. Feelings matter. Every person matters. Both near and far, all the hurt, I see.

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