Just the other day a friend and I were talking about what a gift it was to truly be seen. To spend time with someone who could see another’s grief or pain, trials or hardships. Someone who could “see” us.
That’s all anybody wants, really, isn’t it? For someone else to see us as we truly are and still love us. For someone else to understand without our having to explain ourselves endlessly, exhaustedly, fruitlessly. For someone to see, at least in part, our true inner selves.
Of course, we have the gift of not just knowing someone like that but of being in His presence, not only sometimes but anytime, day or night.
O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
~ Psalm 139:1-3, 15-16
I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.
~ John 10:14-15
But God’s firm foundation stands, bearing this seal: “The Lord knows those who are his,” and, “Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity.”
~ 2 Timothy 2:19
The Lord knows us, every facet, every detail, even better than we know ourselves. He knows us, he loves us, and, if we come to him and submit, he forgives us, even knowing every thought in our hearts.
And yet, then, what responsibility do we bear?
We must reflect the nature of God so that others can come to know Him and be known by Him, too.
I think, perhaps, St. Francis of Assissi said it better than I: