RE: The God Who Sees Me

I have had this story in my head and half written for a few months now. The phrase, "The God Who Sees Me" has been echoing over and over again in my spirit. When I write these stories, it is a fictional representation based on historical reference but also includes some of my own feelings and struggles. I never get tired of reading the timeless stories found in the Bible. His Word is truly living and so very relevant. When I read the story of Hagar back in March, I couldn't help but feel the emotion behind the story in Genesis 16. I began wondering where Hagar came from, what she had dreamed of when she was a young girl and how her current situation probably looked nothing like her dream. Sound familiar? It sure does to me. I ran into a friend the other day at a shop. We had not seen each other for some time and I joked that I was currently working on Plan F. I do that. I cover what I am really feeling with humour. My doctor called me on it a couple of weeks ago when she reminded me of my age and the ever-decreasing chances of having children, but that's a whole other story...

So many of us formulate the perfect plan, the amazing dream for our lives, only to grow up to be an adult and realize that the dream seems impossible and that the reality of life in this fallen world crushes and steals so many of our dreams. I am currently walking through such a desert place where it appears useless to hold onto those things I dreamed of. I find myself thinking negatively about the future and have allowed some of those thoughts to surface in spoken form, for it seems I could not be living further from what I always dreamed of.

In the middle of all of this, God keeps whispering, "I am the God who sees you." Right now, all I can do is hold on to those words. I am not forgotten.

The God Who Sees Me

As she sat in the unrelenting heat of the desert sun, the ubiquitous dust mixed with salty tears that dared to spill, forming muddy tracks down her sunburned cheeks. "What is this place?", she wondered. She had not passed this way before. A stranger. Just like her name. Hagar. As much as she felt she was not born for this place, this wilderness, she was just as much an unwelcome stranger in the place from which she now fled. Abused. Unloved. Unwanted. She laughed in contempt at the very spot she now found herself. At a spring in the desert. Her thirst was unbearable, yet the one thing that would bring relief was also the one thing that would keep her alive - except to be alive was a curse. As she sat there, her thoughts travelled back to a much earlier time. So long ago that its memory seemed only a dream that faded with the dawn of the morning. Was that life real? Did I belong somewhere? Was there a time when I was called by a different name? Sometimes she thought she could smell the spices of Egypt or hear the laughter of her brothers and sisters. She imagined that her daddy was tall and handsome and her mother the most beautiful woman this side of the Nile. She looked into the pool of water and studied her face, the shape of her mouth, the colour of her eyes. Did she look like them? A stubborn teardrop fell, shattering the image in the pool. Hagar. Stranger. The only name she remembered. That, she knew, was very real.

Eventually, she found herself in the tents of Abram and Sarai. A servant. Servant sounded so much better than slave. She took some comfort in the fact that her masters feared God. Surely no harm would come to her. Then one day the unthinkable happened. She was given to her master to bear a child to carry on his name. And to think it was Sarai's idea. What was she thinking! Nothing good could come of this. Of that she was certain.

It did not take long to realize there was life growing inside of her. She had dreamed of this day since she was a young girl. As she lay in her tent a sarcastic laugh escaped her lips, for this was nothing like the dream. Wedding garments, a loving husband, happiness and a place to call home. All this replaced with rags, loneliness and shame. Alone. Would the ache in her heart ever go away? Was there hope enough for her? No. Hope taunted. Hope laughed at her pain. Hope disappointed. To have no hope was far more tolerable. You cannot be disappointed by that which you have not hoped for. Yes, hope was her enemy. And so bitterness took its root within her heart. Bitterness set her on the journey to this desert place. Bitterness kept her heart from aching. She would never feel again. No more tears. No more emotions. It was easier this way. This was survival. Which brought her back to the pool before her. To drink or not to drink. To choose life or death? She lay down beside the spring, too tired from the journey to make a decision just yet. Her heart was just too weary, too broken.

She must have fallen asleep, for the sun, now low in the sky, was not so fierce. All of a sudden her senses were sharpened. A very slight, cool breeze passed by her face, carrying with it a beautiful fragrance. She looked around for the source. Surely nothing could grow in this place. There it was again. Maybe the sun had just been too much for her that day. But no, for a third time she sensed it. She sat up and turned her face toward the sound of a gentle whisper. She found herself in the presence of the Almighty One. How is it that Yahweh would visit her, would take notice of her, the forgotten one? She proceeded to kneel, face down in the dust, for who could stand and look into His face and live? But no, He lifted her face toward Himself and spoke these words, "I AM the lifter of your head. Your face will no longer be bowed low. No more shame for I will tell you who you are meant to be. I have seen you in this desert place and I have caught each one of your tears. I have felt the hunger and aching in your heart. I have understood the longing for the dreams that you once dared to dream but have now been long forgotten. I have heard your crying when you thought no one was listening. You are not forgotten. You are most precious to Me. I will strengthen you for this journey. It is too much for you but it is not too much for Me. I will carry you the rest of the way through this desert and you will live again."

Hagar arose from the dust, took a long drink from the most refreshing spring and started on the path that would take her out of the desert place. "I will continue this journey for the sake of the God who sees me."

Healing

The phrase Mourning into Dancing came to me more than ten years ago at what must have been the lowest point in my life. I was completely broken, my whole world had just blown apart. It has been the phrase that signifies God's promise to me: I will heal. I will restore. I will bring joy. I will replace those tears with laughter once again. Through this healing process, I have had the opportunity to learn more of who God is and also more about who I am.

So many times I have been tempted to place all of my focus on 'me'. My pain. My struggle. My healing. While I believe there is a time for focusing inward and working on the issues, I am convinced that healing comes in greater measure when we look beyond ourselves.

Listen to the words of Isaiah 58:
6 Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?7 Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter - when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not turn away from your own flesh and blood?8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.9 Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and He will say: Here am I. "If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk,10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.11 The LORD will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.

YOUR HEALING WILL QUICKLY APPEAR.

This is why on this blog you sometimes find stories that go beyond myself. Stories of the poor, the widow and the orphan - places I've found myself over the years, looking past my own brokenness and standing in the middle of someone else's pain. This is where my heart is. Positioned in the midst of broken humanity - whether it is in a developing country or downtown. My prayer is that in the middle of life's busy-ness, God will arrest my attention to see the world around me through His eyes.

My 40 Widows

My beautiful grandma now dancing with Jesus

At the end of 2007 I found myself in a place I never wanted to return to: working in a personal care home. I went from working with high school students in developing countries to working with a unit full of seniors. Really old ones! I was feeling quite sorry for myself. (I still have a few of those moments!) One day as I found myself lamenting, yes even complaining, to God over this 'horrible situation' I now found myself in, I reminded Him of James 1:27 - Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

I was all for looking after orphans and widows in the normal places where you would find orphans and widows. I know that one day I will find myself rescuing orphans. However, I failed to see the truth of the matter. In this season, God has entrusted me with forty of His precious widows right here in Canada. These are truly forgotten ones. Many of them have no family and are completely alone in the world. Many more have family who for one reason or another choose not to visit them. They cry out for the son or daughter who never comes.

What is my assignment? To place respect, honour and dignity upon each and every one them. To advocate on their behalf when they have no voice. To protect them from harm. To hold their hands when they are afraid or lonely. To laugh with them. To cry with them. To make sure they are not alone when life on earth comes to an end. To give them what may be their one last chance to know Jesus. In the everyday reality of it all, it's often frustrating and seemingly thankless. Dementia steals their personality and sometimes you have to look really hard to see the person that used to be. Pain - physical or emotional - can make them lash out and all of a sudden they are labelled as 'difficult'. Some days I feel like nothing more than a medicine dispenser. Most of my day is filled with the mundane - pills, pills and more pills, pureed food, spills on the floor, the same questions over and over again and the never-ending pile of paperwork.

In this season may I never take my God-assignment lightly. May I bestow dignity and honour on those society has hidden away and forgotten about. May I look beyond the mundane to see that which is sacred.

Blobs of Colour & Fuzzy Lines

I am standing before what seems to be a large painting. It is still sitting on the easel. My nose is almost touching the center of the canvas. Oops! Got some orange paint on my nose! From this perspective, you know what? It ain't makin' much sense! The colours are all a blur, the images skewed, it makes my head spin. I've heard of the author. He's the best, actually. I can't imagine he would make something that wasn't absolutely beautiful. It just doesn't sound like anything I've heard about this artist. But for some reason my feet are stuck to the floor and I am having a hard time changing my vantage point. It's frustrating because I am experiencing a bit of difficulty appreciating the beauty of the masterpiece before me.

Ah, who is this standing behind me? None other than the artist himself. I thought He would look different. I don't know, it just seems that He doesn't fit the box I put Him in. He is still holding a wet paintbrush and a pallet with many colours. Now He has the perfect view. He can see the picture for what it really looks like, for what it is meant to be and the story it is intended to tell. He has a much better viewpoint, a different perspective. Yet He is still close enough to fix any flaws and make any necessary changes.

Sometimes I think we are too close to the details of our lives simply because we walk in the middle of our lives. To us it might look like a mess, a disaster, even. Creator God is standing behind us with the brush. And this Artist loves to talk about His masterpiece and explain its intricate , purposeful design to the one who is standing close enough to listen.

Of Flies & Bearded Ladies

I recently finished a microbiology course. In one of the lectures, we were learning about diseases caused by Protozoans. The professor made a passing statement that may have seemed altogether trivial and insignificant to the other 120 students trying to stay awake at 8:30 on a Thursday morning. The tsetse fly causes a very serious disease called African trypanosomiasis, aka "sleeping sickness". Ever had it? I doubt it, unless you grew up in Africa. It is estimated that up to 500 million people are affected by this disease. Their prognosis? Poor. But there is good news! There is a drug nicknamed the "resurrection drug". It is extremely effective. Then the professor's passing comment burst my happy bubble. "The drug companies don't make this drug anymore because the people who need it can't afford to buy it." I don't remember anything else from that lecture. I have been angry ever since.

I took some time to research this, hoping he was wrong. Aventa is the drug company responsible for this drug. They discontinued it in 1995 because "it was not profitable". Apparently, the 500 million people with the disease is irrelevant. Oh yeah, it's Africa. They don't count. In this moment I am ashamed to call myself a member of the human race. I am incensed. I am angry. And I feel helpless.

But the story becomes even more ridiculous. In recent times, the drug has made it back into production. Apparently the drug lords discovered a profit. This same drug inhibits growth of facial hair in women. You can purchase it in a topical cream. Warning: The contents of this tube will not help you if you have sleeping sickness.

Perspective

A few years ago I was living in Southern Ontario. One Sunday after church, on a whim I decided to drive an hour away to visit my parents. (Mum always had chocolate:) On my way back home, I got stuck in one of the renowned Highway 401 traffic jams. It got me thinking about perspective as I watched the firemen put out a truck fire. I took the opportunity to do some people-watching, which happens to be one of my favourite things to do. Everyone in the car in front of me immediately pulled out their cell phones. All five of them. To my right, which happened to be the shoulder, cars started whizzing by, driven by impatient people who were desperately trying to escape the inevitable. Up a little to the left, a man was standing in the middle of the traffic with a pair of binoculars. Who carries binoculars in their car?! Dog owners with dogs in tow came out of multiple cars. They walked their dogs and talked to other dog owners. Funny I didn't see any cats. MacDonalds was about 50 meters away, so those who like to put scary things into their bodies headed for the golden arches. Behind me on the right, two girls started a full-on gymnastic session complete with a long succession of back flips. Very impressive. Any my favourite, a dad playing catch with his little boy. Half an hour later, the traffic started moving and everyone got back into their cars and drove away.

I started thinking about how all of these people were presented with the exact same scenario: stuck on the 401 on a beautiful summer Sunday afternoon. However, each perspective was a bit different. Some fought it and became agitated while others made the most of the situation and turned it into an opportunity.

That's how life happens. We get thrown a bunch of curve balls and how we deal with it depends on our perspective. Is it a problem or a challenge? Is it a difficult situation or a solution waiting to happen? Some people are naturally bent towards negative thinking. I used to be one of them so I know that people can learn to change their perspective. One of my favourite Bible verses is Psalm 84:6 - As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. [NIV] The Valley of Baca is also called the Valley of Weeping. Been there. Perspective. Gather up the tears and turn them into a spring. Refreshing. Giving life to others. It doesn't just happen. You gotta make it happen. Sing until you've got a pool of living water.