By faith he left Egypt, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible. ~ Hebrews 11:27
How does one see the invisible?
It is my human eyes that see the massive meltdown, an explosion of tears, cheerios and strong will.
It is my human eyes that long for uninterrupted sleep, quiet, or peace.
It is my human eyes that find the walk of discipline down the aisle of a church auditorium interminably long.
It is my human eyes that can see only the exhaustion and grit and work in training, spattered in spit up, accompanied by wails and defiance.
It is my human eyes that expect my own perfection – and often struggle to see past my own burdens and problems.
My human eyes cannot see the glimpses of eternity.
It is the eyes of faith that see the Father who opens wide His arms and heart – just as much to my own sinful brokenness as he does to the child I bring with her broken crayons.
It is the eyes of faith that see beyond the edge of this pew, this sleepless night, this trial into the misty horizon, hoping to instill not a training of a child to be silent but a heart that can be still and know God.
It is the eyes of faith that see each moment as teachable, an imparting of the love of a God whose hands hold my own even as I hold my small babe.
It is the eyes of faith that see beyond the physical and emotional exertion to the Jesus who called little children, just like mine, to him.
And it is the eyes of faith that let me see I am not, nor have I ever been, alone.
The one who holds my hand is the same one who watches over my little children. And he loves them even more fiercely, even more tenderly, than I do.
He will tend his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms;
he will carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead those that are with young. ~ Isaiah 40:11