Eyes have not seen

As I awoke this morning I dragged my tired body to the refreshing atmosphere of the bathroom. It certainly was refreshing as the brisk breeze flirted gently with the blinds on the bathroom window whispered a good morning to me as I stood in front of the mirror. I looked at my own reflection in the mirror and suddenly my eyes met the puffiness under the eyes of the man in the mirror. I was not in the mood to laugh, but it was if my brain tried to humor me by suggesting that I needed some Nivea DNAge Q10. I tried to stretch the unwilling muscles in my face to form a fake smile, but they clearly seemed to have gotten up on the wrong side of bed this morning.

My eyes met the eyes staring back at me from the mirror. They were red and sore, puffy bags lie just beneath them. As I stood looking at myself and tried to force myself to wake up so I could get ready to drop my daughter at school, I realized something. I realized that yesterday my eyes had witnessed the good and also the inevitable bad, splashed on the canvas of life. I not only saw the lives of others acted out on the multiple tier stage of life, but I saw my own responses to it and ultimately my own life, flash before me. Yet, just after midnight I drifted off into what is known as sleep and I said good bye to the reality of my yesterday. Today, my eyes have not yet seen the moments of internal and external change that God has prepared for me. I have not yet seen the smile of my son, as his face lights up when he sees the man that in his six month old brain he calls Dad. I haven’t seen the face of my daughter looking back at me from the breakfast table. What I have not seen is the one I call “My heart” looking back at me in a quiet gaze as she gives me our three-part kiss which translates into “I love you.” When I opened my eyes this morning they were prophets of an awesome God, proclaiming “His mercies are new every morning. Great is Thy faithfulness.”

What I realized this morning in front of the mirror was that while physically I was experiencing the remains of the day gone by, I was yet to “Taste and see that God is good.” That while I was sleeping God was orchestrating a display of His splendor for what mine eyes have not yet seen. As I turned away from the mirror I looked into the smiling face of my daughter. It dawned on me how I have not only changed my position from where I stood in front of the mirror, but I had also changed my focus. That which I now saw through the lens of my eyes brought a willing smile to my face. I walked past my nine-year old daughter and my eyes said to me, “let’s go and see what else He has in store for you today…”