In Focus: Lord, Give Me Your Eyes!
Day 1: Lord, give me Your eyes!
“Le pou est arrive!” The words written on the message board in the teachers’ lounge triggered a buzz of discussion and general amusement.
I couldn’t figure out what had arrived—I puzzled over “le pou.” It was not a familiar word. My French was obviously not ready for the practical realities of the rural farming community where I had a temporary assignment.
But I quickly learned the meaning of “le pou” and I smiled wryly as I thought back to another time when “le pou” had arrived. Chez moi. (At my own house).
It was the weekend that Derek* came to visit. Derek lived in a neighboring community, but he and my brother had become firm friends when a series of school activities brought them together. Since Derek did not live in our neighborhood, he and my brother were never satisfied with the amount of time they got to spend together, so after much petitioning and bargaining, Derek came to stay for the weekend.
We did not often have friends who came for sleepovers, so Derek’s visit would have been memorable anyway, but the unfortunate discovery that lice, (le pou) had arrived with Derek, took the visit to an altogether different category of “Remember when.”
My very practical mother took it all in stride—she was used to encountering just about anything in her position as a schoolteacher in a remote village. Fortunately, the lice were never able to launch an offensive, but I’ll never forget the sight of my mother blocking their progress with a rag and a can of kerosene!
Time passed, and as with many childhood relationships, connection with Derek was eventually lost. And by the time years later, and miles away, when a message board warned me that lice had arrived, Derek's visit had been tucked away in the dusty scrapbook of collective family memory. Until it surfaced again in a most unexpected way.
In the quest to enroll an elderly relative in a much-needed service program, one of my family members had been encountering significant obstacles. Deciding to make a physical visit to the office, my frustrated family member asked for the program manager. Full recognition set in as he approached. It was Derek!
After a warm greeting, Derek spoke at length about his weekend visit all those years ago. He talked about his excitement at coming to our home, and the esteem in which he held my parents. He talked about the thrill of being the only one in his group invited for a sleepover weekend. No mention was made of lice.
Hearing the story from Derek’s perspective was an eye opener, and an important life-lesson for me. For years, the story in my memory bank had been primarily about the lice. But for Derek, it was a cherished memory of friendship, and of value, and of belonging.
My radically revised understanding of Derek’s visit through his eyes and my more mature adult frame caused me to think about typical human perspectives on people, events, and circumstances. Often, our vantage point is limited, and the full picture is not in focus.
It is clear from Scripture that our perspective, our understanding, and our definitions are not the same as God’s. Concepts such as good and bad, weakness and strength, wisdom and foolishness are blurred by our human filters:
“My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8-9).
This becomes clear as we compare Jesus’ outlook with those in His circle—those such as His disciples, for instance. Where the disciples saw obstacles and limitations, Jesus saw opening and opportunity (Mark 6:36-42); where they saw threats and impossibilities, He saw the sovereignty of God (Mark 4:35-41; Mark 10:27; Matthew 28:17).
We also see the difference between Jesus and earthly religious authorities. Where religious leaders saw tax collectors and sinners (Luke 15:1-2), Jesus saw invitees into the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 21:31). Where prosecutors clamored for condemnation, Jesus offered forgiveness (John 8:3-11).
I desire to follow the Lord's example. And as I continue to grow and mature, I am learning more to consider other perspectives. But I still struggle with my human limitations. So I continue to pray, “Lord, give me Your eyes!” So that I would be more and more like Jesus. And focus on faith instead of fear. Possibilities instead of parameters. And friends instead of lice.
*The name and a few details have been changed to safeguard privacy.
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