10 October 2013
That Which is Not Seen
My mind is drifting along the music I have playing in my kitchen as the sun sets outside, bringing a golden glow into my living room. I sit on the sofa with feet propped up on the ottoman with a mixture of feelings twisting and stretching. My thoughts are encased in questions and contemplation. I hardly know what to think about some things that are at work in my life (and others close to me).
Matters unresolved translate to these musings and I wish I could be of more encouragement and help solve them. But they are mostly out of my hands, and my hands would not be nearly as healing as God's. But I don't like the feeling of helplessness. It makes me feel restless.
Perhaps my doubts are incorrect. Maybe my gentleness and subtle thoughtfulness is impactful. Maybe certain efforts that come completely natural to me are just not quite understood yet. I was not made to be exactly like anyone else, anyway, for a reason. My own methods are not aligned with the world. Many things the world cares about, I do not care about. Solutions are not always a direct result of an action, but that action could be a catalyst for something good that is to come.
Trying to keep my mind affixed on that which is not seen, rather than what is seen. Looking deeply and seeing so much more than what is being shown on the surface.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.