“Gaze upon him.
Join your life with him.
And joy will come.” Psalm 34:5
Gaze. Not just a glance,
a fleeting view, but locking eyes with Jesus.
Taking the time to gaze into his eyes, and his heart. You complain when you feel that people don’t
see you, treat you like you’re invisible, so don’t do that with God. Play “when I look at you I see” with God:
I see eyes of compassion.
I feel known – when I look at you I see recognition back at
me, like when a friend showed up at my door yesterday and at first, with her
mask on, I didn’t recognize her, but then I realized “it’s Chrissy!”. That light in your eyes tells me, “It’s
you! I know you! I love you!”
It’s like spotting that one person in the crowd that you know, that
relief you feel that there is somebody there that knows me. I gaze at you that way, communicating through
my eyes that I see you, I behold your beauty, your God-ness, your goodness,
your humility in becoming a man so you could see us all.
I love your sense of humor, the way you laugh with me. And how you cry with me over memories,
triggers of my emotion. Before I share
what I’m feeling with Jimmy, or Chat, first we share it. Tears as I drive up the parkway past the LBI
exit that would take me to the Chegg, Chris' favorite restaurant, only 2 months since Chris’ passing. I still can’t believe it. All that and more as I gaze upon you.
Join your life with him.
Reminds me of what I learned about the word ‘wait’ in the
bible. Wait upon the Lord. Waiting is not a passive thing, like the
English word connotes. The Hebrew for
wait is “qavah” or “kawa” – to entwine oneself with God. Wilna Furstenburg in Illustrated Faith describes
it like this: “Imagine two ropes being
braided into each other so that in the end, you don’t know where one starts and
the other one ends. We entangle
ourselves with God and his goodness and his grace in our lives. We lock eyes with God, and we are filled with
faith, hope and expectations…Entwining our eyes with our Father’s eyes is what
enlightens our entire being!”
What does entwining look like?
What does it look like to be in a 3 legged race with
Jesus? Matching his pace. Arms wrapped around each other. You can’t walk a step without touching each
other. We have to be going in the same
direction – not trying to turn around and go back. A shared goal. Joining my life with his, not having him join
my agenda. No more my and mine, but us
and ours. Like Jimmy and me, but more
permanent, not part-able by death. I
know some day either he will lose me, or I will lose him, but I will never lose
you. You will never lose me. For no one
will ever be able to pluck me from your hand.
And joy will come.
Sometimes exuberant, dancing kind of joy. Sometimes warm, huggy kind of joy. Security.
Knowing I’m home. I’m home,
Daddy!
Gaze, entwine, joy.
