God has seen everything about us, in our past and our present and our future.
And He still loves us so much that He is willing and desiring to draw us close and protect us.
At the end of this Psalm, the Psalmist invites God to see him again and know him deeper still.
The choice to invite Him in, to remain and to want Him to see us, in every aspect from our joys to our terrors, for an entire life’s journey: I know of no greater sign of trust and dependence.
I love my Composition 101 students. But my class session with them this past week was a tough one. That’s because I was trying to help them discover how to write an argument paper in a counterintuitive way.
Not as a soapbox to shout from or boxing match to win in one round, but as a chance to see both/all sides of an issue and learn about the roots beneath all the different thinkers holding their thoughts.
This is what a colleague recently labeled as using “dignified dialogue” — bringing more beneficial results without so much emotionally-fueled fire to burn down relationships, communities, and nations.
But this challenges my students for several reasons. For one thing, it goes against the way many of them were taught to think and write in high school. For another, it’s hard to see different and more varied gradations in the “same old” sides we have so often heard to various hot button arguments. Additionally, and perhaps most crucially in my mind, many people never learn how to consider the root issues behind different types of arguments, the source of what drives people to say what they say or feel as passionately as they feel, especially when we meet someone from an “enemy” camp.
Ironic: how right around the time of that lesson, a certain ban was passed by Alabama’s state government. (I am glad I left my phone in my office while teaching that evening because my text inbox and social media account were exploding in connection.)
I don’t usually use this space to discuss politics, and I will not go on a rant now. I do have my own strongly held beliefs on the subjects of life, choice, mothers, and babies. These have changed slightly over the course of my life, given much thought, observation, and experience, but I still hold them near and dear, without apology.
Yet, to stick to my point, as I read countless responses from friends and friends’ friends on all sides of the ban and the greater issue, all I can see are the tops of the roots: fear, anger, defensiveness, bitterness, accusations, pain. I say these are the tops of the roots, because I know these things stem from something even deeper in the hearts of the writers and the ranters.
All I can think is: what brought this person or that person to this point? Why is he so angry? Why is she so afraid? Why can’t they (on any “side”) see the fear, anger, pride, or pain of someone from another side and have enough compassion to handle their roots with care?
This is, in part, what I am helping my comp students learn how to do. I am not yet a master at it, and sometimes the arguements I meet in daily life are so volatile, I must walk away from them in silence for the sake of my own wellbeing.
But remember that experience I mentioned a moment ago? I know what is to have my own pain, anger, hatred, confusion, bitterness, and fear plainly seen by the Master Teacher-Gardener (One who was also a Master of dignified dialogue). And I know what it is to have Him uncover, clean, and prune my roots with great tenderness.
When I have been seen thusly and come out the better for it, I find I must, for my part, follow His example to approach those around me and seek to be both dignified and compassionate in all my communication with them.
Who is it hardest to truly be seen by? God? Other people? Or our own heart, when reality is faced?
Perhaps all of the above, each in its own way. These were the thoughts that moved me to create this artistic piece and to write a poem afterward. The poem below, entitled Ashes Sprout Beauty, is a collection of eight stanzas, each written as a haiku.
I will leave you to ponder it, dear reader. Be seen, and embrace the beauty that can spring forth.
Shadows hide poorly
Because eyes adjust to find
What’s been all along.
Yet I grasp shadows:
Imaginary blankets
Of security,
Until my fingers
Find they are grasping only
Dense smoke and mirrors.
So, now, you ask me
“Whose eyes were opened to see:
Yours, mine, or the Lord’s?”
Not the Lord’s, for He
Has always shone, bright and clear,
Seeing…and loving still.
Perhaps yours now glimpse
The fragile outlines beneath
Gray veils too long worn.
But it is I who
Must, truly and fully, name
That seen by my heart:
Light shines through fractures
To nourish petals—hidden
Treasure of beauty.
Language changes with time. Sometimes the language itself…and sometimes our usage or cultural understanding of it.
Take the ways in which Americans have spoken of those who are not average or normal in a mental, physical, or developmental sense. Generations ago, such people might have been labeled as simple, infirm, mad, or pitiful. When I was young, the term retarded was used interchangeably as a psychological label for certain children and adults and also informally to describe something that was foolish or dumb. Shortly after this, I often heard the word handicapped used to describe people who had a wide variety of conditions; we just stuck another adjective in front (such as physically or mentally) to specify which category of abnormality we were describing.
And now, the term I heard thrown around in every direction, especially for children and young adults is special needs. We don’t want to speak of people with limitations and possibly problematic conditions in a way that sounds remotely demeaning or negative. So we label them as special.
I am not poking fun at anyone; I write this in all seriousness. And I am not trying to say people with certain limitations should be denied needed assistance; yes, let we who are on the more average and normal end of the spectrum have understanding and compassion for them (and their caregivers).
What I am saying is: I find it ironic that we would now use the term special needs to refer to such individuals when we are all special in God’s sight and we all have needs in God’s sight. Only God sees each one of us with so much individual love and intimate understanding. And only God sees the needs we have that no one else knows about — or knows the depths of. (Arguably, even those people who are extremely dramatic and open about their needs often have even deeper needs that only God really understands and can fill.)
But being seen can be scary. Especially for those of us who are labeled as normal or average in our society, who are not listed as special needs individuals, and who try to hold it together for the sake of sticking out as admirable instead of sticking out as special.
And yet, for whatever cosmetics we may put on, fences we may put up, and virtual posts we may put out, we are still special, needy, frail, and limited.
Sometimes we need the reminder to stop running, hiding, purchasing, glossing, binging, or denying…and to stand still and openly before the One from whom we cannot hide.
And know that when we are seen by Him, we are truly and rightly seen.