God's Eye

 

 

On a recent school day I pulled a beautiful piece of Gods-Eye artwork 
out of my son's backpack.
Instantly recoiling, he begged me to put it back. 

 

Surprised, I asked "Why?", he was so upset. 
To me, it was the most perfect thing I'd laid eyes on...
simply because his own sweet hands had created it.
This was his reply.   

"Mom, it is all wrong.  I tried. 
But I just couldn't get it right. 
It is junk!
  Throw it away.

 Even though the teacher kept showing me over and over,
I couldn't do it, so she finally just said,
 
'oh well'  

"It doesn't look like the other kid's, he exclaimed .
It is supposed to look like an eye...not that!" 

 

...and although he couldn't quite articulate it,
"shame" dulled his innocent eyes. 

My heart broke...right along side his. 

 

Holding back tears, I took Andrew into my arms.

 

"Honey, I think it is perfect". 

The way you made it is exactly the way it is supposed to be. 

God didn't want yours to look like everyone else's
because He wanted your art to reflect your story...
and how He took care of you.

 

What did He do for you when you were a tiny baby in the hospital? 
"He healed me". 

 

And what else? 
"He held me" 
Exactly. 

 

My husband and I prayed that God Himself would hold our son close
those long months in the NICU, when we couldn't physically hold him. 
And I believe He did.

"I will offer you peace like a river,
and as a mother comforts her child,
so I will comfort you".   

My son may have felt abandoned in that dark incubator.
 But he was never alone.  

I was always near, experiencing every painful aspect
of his journey right along with him,
 yet he may not have felt my presence as I longed for him to.     
The tubes I was afraid might strangle my son, became instruments of life for him. 
The needles that scarred his wafer-thin skin, brought healing.
That very dark place is where God saved his life.  

 

When we finally came home, after four long months,
all I could do was hold my beautiful child for hours on end. 
And cry. 
I prayed that God would turn it for good. 
That Andrew would somehow feel God's love
so deeply that his heart could heal.    

 

"That is what your art is", I continued..
"It's a picture of Jesus' promises that wrap around our hearts and hold us". 

 

To me, who could see my son's journey in big picture format...it was clear. 
But to him, his art looked like a tangled mess.          

 

Then it hit me...

 

Maybe God wants to reassure me when I feel discouraged, or misunderstood.      

 

"Your story reflects my faithfulness too. 

I've been with you your entire life and have full understanding.
You will someday too...I promise. 
Oh, how I've longed to hold you, my child. 
I am on my feet, hands clapping, 
with overwhelming love and excitement over you...
just like you are your son. 
My heart breaks when I see you hurting. 
Please let me love you. 
I will never, ever stop."

 

The circumstances used by the enemy of our souls
 to frustrate and strangle the life out of us,
can be the very instruments 
God uses to weave our lives into galleries of hope.            

 

All too often we feel like God is far away,
 watching only from a distance.
Life experiences scream at us, making us feel that God has abandoned us,
or is only there to punish us when we don't measure up. 
And we never can. 
Yet He says, 

 

"Peace, Peace to those near and far...
and I will heal them."

 

His eye is on us - yes. 
But as a loving Savior
who longs to draw us into His arms of mercy. 
He will take the tangled threads of our lives
and transform them into a masterpiece; 
if we allow Him to carefully stitch our broken hearts
back together,
piece by piece.    

We can breathe a sign of relief and feel our hearts
 come alive again,
embraced by His promises. 
~ Envelope us with Your Love, Father ~

 

He is closer than a brother.