There is a mask or even a mist that we can see something quite wondrous when we see behind or through, but it takes awareness to see the vision of what they are becoming.

There is a drive I take every week to a farm and garden out in the countryside. I leave home early in the morning when it is dark and often arrive at daybreak.

It’s a beautiful drive going over hills, through valleys, and besides a stream with sailboats nestled into wooded banks. But it’s particularly beautiful on those mornings when there is a little bit of mist just sitting above the paddocks and on the river. I have to stop and quietly soak in the beauty.

As the sun begins to light up the sky, the darkness starts to retreat.

It’s light, its movement, it’s a time of transition from night into day. The fog sits and clings to the trees, and I know that within a few minutes, it will be gone.

It’s a special time of day, and so many people miss it. They are asleep to the glory and beauty around them. Or perhaps they are busy with getting ready for the day.

By the time they on the same road that I have traveled, the beauty has moved on, never to be seen quite like that again.

We hurry by, don’t we? It takes a conscious decision to slow down, stop, and take it in.

Many people need to be seen behind the dark or even the daylight of their presentation.

Looking a little beyond to the becoming

I like to look a little beyond.

It’s a simple prayer and goes something like this.

‘Help me to see them as you (Jesus) see them.’

What would it be like to have the eyes of Christ?

The eyes of Christ that can look right through all the parades, charades, and games that we all play. To see under the mask of makeup and self-protection.

These wouldn’t be condemning eyes. Instead, these are eyes that dance with delight and joy. These are eyes that affirm you with loving acceptance.

They see the tears, they may even shed a few with you, but they don’t reject or abandon.

These are the eyes that have traversed the dark with you and know that a new day is coming. They see something different from the experience that you have of yourself.

The tender moment

It was a moment in the conversation that I wasn’t quite expecting. Good things often happen unexpectedly.

We had been talking for a few minutes about a painful moment in their lives, and then I saw tears start to trickle down the face. They were hurting, and I felt inadequate. I was meant to.

I prayed, ‘Help me to see them as you see them.’

It was that moment of time between the darkness of the night and the dawning of a new day. The new day would be them shifting out of a deep conversation and into the business and activity of the day.

There was a moment, and I wanted to see the beauty and purpose of it.

Who were they becoming? What was this moment of misty dawning awareness bringing forth for us to explore? I was both excited and still.

I knew that Aslan was on the move. It wasn’t safe, but it was good.

Sure enough, ten minutes later and it was back into functional day-to-day business. Let’s keep busy to keep us one step ahead of the pain of the night and the unknown.

A new business card

I recently saw quite a funny cartoon.

The first image shows Simon, the fisherman picking up a pack of business cards from a printer.

The printer says

‘Here’s your order, sir. A thousand business cards saying ‘Simon, the fisherman.’

The next image starts with a little caption

‘Later that day …’.

In the image, it has Jesus saying to Simon.

‘Simon! from now on, you shall be known as Peter!

Peter looks a little annoyed that he had just got all these business cards, and now he has a name and identity.

This story refers to the encounter between Peter and Jesus that we find in John’s telling of Jesus’story.

Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, was one of the two who heard John’s witness and followed Jesus.

The first thing he did after finding where Jesus lived was find his own brother, Simon, telling him, “We’ve found the Messiah” (that is, “Christ”).