Tip of My Iceberg

We’d had a team meeting on my back porch. With everyone’s concerns for safety and not wanting to chance exposure to anything viral, it was a safe, sunny, and sweet space to talk about the specifics of our jobs.

The meeting lasted several hours, and lunch was a welcome break. We got our meals and then proceeded to do a very middle school kind of thing.

The guys separated from the gals, hauling chairs out by the pond, and the girls remained around the picnic table, talking together on topics that varied between serious and sweetly satisfying.

Because of the vast array of wildlife in our yard and the pond behind our home, birds and animals gather in that space. We have two otters out there now who swim around with careless ease, unhurried, not bothered. Ducks of many varieties settle on the water.

The guys got out binoculars–we have serious birders in our group–and watched the otters and identified the birds on and around the pond. The women all paused in our conversation, witnessing this camaraderie among the men. That they enjoyed each other’s company over a common experience was a great respite from the intensity of the day.

Having the ability to see what is around us is one of our greatest gifts; it is also one we often take for granted. We often look but don’t see, notice but don’t appreciate. Experiencing a wonderful view with people we care for can draw us closer in the shared opportunity.

Seeing is also colored by our stories and experiences. When my youngest saw snow for the first time, she was filled with awe and wonder, having been born and raised in Florida. My relatives up north wouldn’t see snow quite the same way–it’s cold, inconvenient, and makes driving difficult.

Two very different perspectives.

Seeing becomes more valuable when we can’t do it; when we lose our sight or never had the chance to distinguish colors, view a mountain, or gaze upon the ocean.

Jesus and His men were leaving Jericho when a blind man, Bartimaeus, begging by the roadside, heard Jesus was near and began calling for Him. People tried to keep him from calling out, but he kept shouting, “Have mercy on me!”

Jesus called him over, aware of his blindness.

“‘What do you want Me to do for you?’ Jesus asked him. The blind man said, ‘Rabbi, I want to see.’” Mark 10:51

Jesus gave the man sight, telling him his faith had made him whole because he believed in Jesus’ ability to heal.

We miss a lot because we choose not to see what can be. We view the world through the lens of fear and anger, allowing divisiveness to color who we see and how we see them. Too often we don’t know what we want.

God offers us the chance to see life through His eyes–His binoculars.

We need to ask.

“That is what the Scriptures mean when they say, ‘No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him.’” 1 Corinthians 2:9

God desires a deep sense of camaraderie with us so we may taste and see life with Him. Fresh and full of hope.

It’s the best buddy experience we could ask for.