To See Like He Does
I want to see like Jesus. Not through categories and filters of learned prejudices and systems of valuing. I wish I looked at all of creation through eyes of grace, compassion, and true justice. Seeing beauty and value, rather than the flawed and imperfect.
I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to see colorful skin as beautiful, instead of something that segregates and values.
And If only I looked at the sin of others as something that separates them from God, rather than me, I might actually take it more seriously instead of judging it or avoiding it.
I wish I looked at the earth and saw its value as formed by the same Creator that breathed life into me. I might walk and live different on it. Appreciate it more. Serve it better.
I wish I looked at my children and didn’t see dirt and mess, but life and creativity.
I wish I could see my own sin – really see it, rather than dismiss it or justify it.
I wish I saw injustice and got angry at it. The kind of anger that empowers, rather than mimics the oppression.
I wish I didn’t avert my eyes to the things of the world. I wish I could see all its brokenness and desire to enter into it with a merciful heart like Jesus, who did, who does, who will.
I wish my eyes were like Emerson’s, whose six year old blues look at my brown children and think it’s possible they were knit inside of me. Who never questions why our family looks the way we do. I want to see like she does.
And I wish my eyes were like Drew’s, who saw Rogers sitting next to Bert and Ann Bryan in church one day and asked his mom if those were his parents. Because in this four year old’s world, a white mom and dad for a black son is not just a possibility, it’s a reality. It’s what he sees as normal, natural. No matter how unnatural this different way of living really is. I want to see like he does.
Children see. They don’t see crumbs on the table. They don’t see the laundry suddenly go from dirty to clean. They don’t see the unflushed toilet or the chip they just stepped on. But they see. Better than me sometimes.
To see like Jesus, is a choice we have to make. It won’t happen by accident. It doesn’t occur naturally. We choose the lens from which we see. May God continually place people and circumstances on our journey of faith that initiate change. That help us see differently. That give us a vision for how God sees his world and everything in it.
For in order to love like God, we must first see like him.
#251 Tom sleeping in a bed upstairs
#252 A list that challenges, stretches, and keeps us praying
#253 The hard working hands of a husband
#254 Children who work together, play together
#255 Five on a couch
#256 Words of affirmation
#257 A mother who goes
#258 Berries, oh the berries!
#259 The clearing of the mind so I can pray
#260 The unfolding story…
