What do you see?
As a kid, did you ever play the game “Guess the object”? The game where you look at magnified pictures of everyday things and identify what it is. Let’s play right now! Can you guess what this is?
Courtesy of Daily Mail | Photo by Scientist Gary Greenberg
Drumroll please…
It’s a basil leaf! This picture was taken by Scientist Gary Greenberg after he magnified the leaf 125 times!
When something is this close, it’s hard to recognize its wholeness. If you magnify an object large enough, you can easily lose sight of its purpose and call it something different. Have you ever felt that way toward your circumstances?
When heavy trials or emotions sit too close, I often lose sight of my identity. I second-guess myself when I focus on rejection. I’ve said mean things when my assumptions feel more real than grace.
Things can also sit too far. The idea of well-adjusted children seems impossible when you’re in the thick of potty-training. The end of this COVID pandemic feels insurmountable when you see cases rise or small businesses suffer.
Fortunately, God has something to say about this. When troubles feel too close or goals feel too far, our Heavenly Father reminds us to fix our gaze on something beyond logic or reason — Eternity with Him.
“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
2 Corinthians 4:18.
It makes me think about the stars in the sky. On any given day, stars just look like tiny, sparkly dots. One day you stop to gaze at their magnificence; maybe you even pull out the telescope. Suddenly, in view of the whole universe, you feel peace. You remember that things will work out for God’s glory.
Pause to reflect: When you think about your current trials, what do you see or feel?
While I’d love to focus on the stars each day, I struggle like the rest of us. I’m weak at setting proper boundaries with big emotions or worrisome situations. Fear sits too close when I can’t shake my mistakes. Joy looks like a dot in the sky when negative words steer my thinking.
I’m still trying to figure it out, but I think it takes surrender and trust. It takes staying close to the right thing, no…the right person. When we feel like wholeness is unattainable or we’re burnt out by never-ending routines, we can close our eyes and ask Jesus to come close.
This kind of thing doesn’t happen overnight, but it’s a lifelong process of intention and prayer. I recently prayed, “Lord, shift my gaze. Direct my sight. Turn my eyes from darkness to light." I trust that He is answering this for you and for me. He’s turning our eyes as we speak.
“Lord, shift my gaze. Direct my sight. Turn my eyes from darkness to light.”
I imagine it’s like a father showing his son the ocean. He asks his son what he sees. With child-like wonder the son is wowed by how big the waters are and asks where the waves begin and end. He compares his small frame to the boundless sea and smiles feeling free. They both stand in silence as they forget all that’s happening around them.
Maybe, that’s what it looks like to fix our gaze on holiness.
What I See
How remarkable is the ocean tide.
The rise and fall of seawater before a child’s eyes.
Coastal ecosystems depend on tides to survive.
But through the sun and moon’s eyes —
it’s never-ending play.
Tug-of-war and
Earth sets the time.
Animals thrive because of tides,
because the sun and moon stay.
The endurance and the will.
The “it’s-not-about-winning” game.
Wide-eyed thanks for such
timeless competition,
And to
the Universe
who sets the stage.
Wide-eyed thanks for the
sun and moon’s nature
to dance.
And to a Father
who brought me to the shore.
Reflect
What emotions feel too close?
What things feel too far away? Is it hope or truth? Forgiveness and love?
Read 2 Corinthians 4:18 and reflect on the words.