Seeing with My Heart

I've often thought how sad it would be to be born blind, to never know what the sun looked like, or the moon, or snow, or the ocean...a flower...a puppy's face...a rollling pasture...or a mountain range.  When I marvel at these things, my heart fills up with such joy.  It truly overflows.  Maybe that's how blind people see -- through their hearts!  Maybe what's important here is the effect on our hearts of what we see with our eyes.  Maybe God allows blind people to see with a far deeper clarity, a much more vivid and broader appreciation of things when seen with the heart.

That is how I felt this morning.  I was reminded of God's miraculous creation all around me this morning, an arresting sense of beauty.  So unsettling that it stopped me in my tracks, not once, but many times throughout my morning. 



It was dark out as I turned the door knob and headed out my back door to the driveway.  As I made my way to the driver's side of my car, I casually glanced upward -- I'm certain it was instinctive, the light drawing me to pay attention, to come closer -- and I saw it.  The moon was full and bright and so very lovely, a slow-moving strip of clouds passing in front of it, casting the most beautiful shadows.  I uttered something, I don't even remember, because at that instant I forgot everything...who I was, what I had been thinking, where I was going.  I was instantly paralyzed with this simple yet alarming beauty. 

And then I remembered...oh, yeah, the gym, I'm running late, I need to hurry or I won't get in a full workout.  But I simply could not take another step without first grabbing my camera on my cell phone and snapping a few shots. 

(Unfortunately, my cell phone cam didn't deliver; but my mind remembers!)

As I headed toward the gym, driving down the highway my view of the moon was even more rewarding.  It seemed even bigger and brighter and more lovely than minutes ago from my driveway.  As if on cue, a yummy guitar instrumental was playing on a Blank & Jones CD, Face a la Mer -- what perfect background music for this morning -- and I was overcome with a sense of euphoria.  Lifesize euphoria.

When I returned home, the sun having long since made its debut, I took notice of how the morning had begun to unfold.  And I didn't want to miss a thing...

 

 

 

 

 For it to be an ordinary, uneventful Wednesday,

I was blessed with a sense of joy all about me,

having witnessed the beauty of simple pleasures

not just with my eyes,

but with my heart.

 

And my soul cried out with praise.