a new birth, a new sight.

Into the world she comes, rudely awakened to the light. She cries out to all who will listen; no doubt asking “What is going on?” No more are nearby sounds filtered through her warm fluid home. Clinks and clanks and echoes shoot at her eardrums as does her own piercing voice. “You are not alone little one.” I assure her. My words do nothing but add to the confused orchestra of sound. Her closed eyelids become a sensory safety-net in this new loud bright world.A week later, her ears have adjusted but her eyes are just beginning to work. She and I spend several minutes each day inspecting each other’s face. I can see her questions: “What’s on his face? Does he always have to wear those? Is his hair always that… tall? He seems nice enough, but why can’t he make me stop being hungry like the other one -the pretty one- can? SHE’S great!”I’ve put quite a bit of thought into what Briar can see with her little shiny blue eyes. I imagine that as her vision becomes more and more clear that it has to be a constant flow of incredible scenery. It’s no wonder babies don’t say anything for a while, they’re too busy being amazed at all the sights. What must it be like to see the ground exploding up toward the sky in a random outpouring of green and brown? I just see a tree. She sees River flying, or sliding, or falling, or something and he’s all stretched out and… loud. I just see River running. Or later this year when she’s outside and mommy’s hair keeps trying to fly away. I’ll close my jacket as I smile into the cold wind.

Where does the magic lie here? Is it within the gaze of an infant? Or is it in the wind, and the running, and the tree? Our story started when the Creator said “It is good.” And apparently is it “good” enough for the God of the universe to continue breathing life and love and tragedy and comedy into our spinning home. So then who, exactly, are we to be completely bored and underwhelmed as we give fading footprints to this swirling ball of sand and rock?

We have been invited to be reborn. Does this mean signing a membership form so that when we leave this place we can go somewhere happy? That mindset could not be more of a prideful spit of disapproval from creation toward Creator.  I believe this rebirth is a continuous awakening to the connecting beauty between all that is seen and unseen, earthly and heavenly.

To put it another way: As our vision becomes more clear, the lines that we’ve drawn, begin to fade. As we come to see each other more clearly, our differences quiet themselves and our common strengths and weaknesses advocate for one another. We may even begin to see our life’s tragedies blend slowly and softly into our blessings.

Are you willing to open your eyes? To leave your sensory safety-net and face the good and the bad that follows each blink of your sleepy eyelids? All of us are little ones. And none of us are alone.