God's eyes

It used to be very hard to come back to New York after traveling to see family. I was homesick, to be sure; but flying into JFK or LaGuardia, I smelled New York. And I didn't like it. I was grumpy, foggy-headed. No one seemed helpful, no one was friendly. Looking at the dirty streets, graffiti walls, and trash filled alleys on our way out of the Bronx depressed me. I was never really happy to be home.

I complained frequently to the Lord: "Why do I have to live here? Why do I have to raise my family here? Why. can't. it. be. perfect." In my eyes, New York was devoid of family, faith, comfort and connection. It was dirty and smelly, a wasteland to grow in.

But it wasn't until I began to really trust the Lord, to really say to Him, "Lord, I hate living here. I hate the cost of living, hate that everyone is in a rush, hate the pace of life, hate, hate hate.... but nevertheless...Your Will..." that I began to see things in His eyes.

Seeing things through God's eyes can come about in a myriad of ways. It comes through being honest with Him, through sharing our hearts and laments with Him, by having that intimate relationship with Him. It comes through practicing eucharisteo, the "life-filling gratitude", that makes what we have... into enough.

Driving home the other night from the airport towards our home, I chose to embrace the seemingly "imperfect" parts of New York. I chose to find beauty and comfort in the cement wastelands, the dirty canals of the sound that line the freeway. I am home, I thought.

There was a beautiful sunset outside our window. A cemetery is across the street from our house. I took a walk, right outside my door, and I saw; as Ann says: that wild grace. Beauty across the street from me, in the cemetery. Because I chose to see with God's eyes.

“God's viewpoint is sometimes different from ours - so different that we could not even guess at it unless He had given us a Book which tells us such things...."

― Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place