What My Eyes Have Seen

When I first read Ann Voskamp’s post about naming the year I thought, “Huh.  That’s kind of interesting.  A little weird.  Not something I’d ever heard anyone talking about in any of the churches I’ve attended.  Ever.  But interesting.”

Then I thought, “I wonder how one even goes about naming a year?”

The idea of naming a year seemed strange until I kept bumping into the same single word:  See.  In my reading, in sermons, in hymns, in scripture, I kept coming across calls to lift up my eyes, to look, to be watchful, to behold, to turn my eyes upon Jesus.

To see.

For much of this past year, I have felt as though my family was stuck in a holding pattern.  My son’s plans for the future seem stalled; we’re not sure how or when certain details will be worked out.  He is frustrated.  I am impatient.  We’ve been called to walk by faith, not by sight.

…we do not know what to do but our eyes are on you… 2 Chronicles 20:12

Until this year, I routinely prayed for God’s presence with me and with those I love during periods of uncertainty, of hardship, of testing, of fear.  Somewhere along the way, I was reminded of these words, spoken by Jesus just before He returned to His Father:

…And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.  Matthew 28:20

Jesus is always with me.  Always.  I just need to ask for eyes to see how and when.

As I’ve begun praying specifically for eyes to glimpse Christ’s presence with me, these are some of the things I’ve seen:

• Prior to dropping my son off for his military entrance exam, I stopped by a local nursery.  For a split second, a hummingbird hovered inside one of the greenhouses.  I’ve long considered hummingbirds as love notes from the hand of my Father, sent to bring me joy and remind me how much He loves me

• While at the recruiting station, I noticed another young man wearing a huge gold cross around his neck.  A friend wondered aloud whether or not the young man truly belonged to Jesus, whether or not the cross had meaning to him.  While I hope that he has faith, I’m confident that the cross around that young man’s neck was not there by accident.  My Father intended me to see it.

•  An expensive piece of cherry furniture in my home was damaged when dish washing detergent somehow got dripped across it.  It was an accident, of course.  It was also an opportunity for accusations of carelessness to be made, for anger and defensiveness to arise.  Fortunately, my husband was able to buff out the markings that had bleached the wood--the markings that formed the shape of a cross.

•  Twice, during two separate appointments in two different settings, when my anxiety level was sky-high, people with whom I was meeting revealed themselves as Christ-followers, people who belong to Jesus.

These are but a few examples of the things I’ve noticed once I began praying for God to open my eyes to His presence.  Now, maybe I’m reading too much into these circumstances, seeing what I want to see and interpreting events the way I want to interpret them.

Or maybe, just maybe, God really does answer prayer.  And maybe, just maybe, scripture speaks truth and Jesus is always, always with me.

Maybe finding a name for a year isn't so strange after all.

Linking with Ann, considering the spiritual practice of seeing: