Sunday, November 30, 2014

Not Through My Eyes

This afternoon I was driving through town and caught a glimpse of the sun in the sky. It's cold here in Wisconsin. Snow has fallen, but the sun came out, temperatures warmed and snow turned to water. The sky had been hazy. Foggy, almost. But there, in the middle of the sky, was the most perfect circle of light.

The sphere was so bright. The edges clean and crisp. Like someone had literally drawn a perfect circle and shaded it bright.

I pulled off to the side of the road to take a photo of it. I grabbed my phone, took off my sunglasses, and exited the car to find the perfect shot.

Except the sun circle was gone. Vanished.

In it's place was a bright haze of light among the fog and clouds but nothing like the amazing, perfectly shaped sphere in the sky.

Disappointed, I hopped back in my car. Pulled on my sunglasses and took one last glance out my window before putting the car in drive.

And there it was again!

It was my sunglasses that allowed me to see (forgive me, but this is the only way I can describe it) through the clouds and to the glorious sun that was hidden behind the fog and haze. With my own eyes it just looked like any old sun shining behind clouds. But with a little help, I was able to catch a glimpse of something spectacular. Something I would normally miss.

When I look at Avery's death with my own eyes all I see is grey fog and haze. Through my own eyes, the haze convinces me that losing my daughter is awful and horrible and tragic.

Yet, when God slips his Heavenly Sunglasses over my eyes, I can see past that grief to something so perfect. So beautiful. So bright. When I look at Avery's death through the lens of Christ I can see things I wouldn't normally be able to see.

I can see how Avery is doing exactly what she wanted to do: tell people about Jesus, lead people to Christ. And she is doing this in such amazingly huge ways that I never could have imagined. But God did.

I will not be able to see completely; my earthly eyes are not made for such things. But I trust my God. I know that His way is good and right and just. So, until I am reunited with my sweet daughter in heaven, I will continue to trust and be thankful for the glimpses I get.