On growing, trusting, and the small world we mistake for everything.
Ever since my children began recognizing their mother and father, I have noticed something. Whenever they need something, if they cannot see us, they cry and look for us. Sometimes all they have to do is turn their heads a little.
We are right there.
But their field of vision is still small and narrow, so whatever they can see feels like the whole world. If Mom and Dad are not inside that little frame, then for a moment, it is as though we are not there at all. Watching them, I find myself thinking that perhaps growing up is simply the widening of our sight. And learning to trust what is there even when we cannot see it.
Then I wonder:
Have I grown spiritually?
When God is nowhere within my own short and narrow field of vision, do I still cry out, God, are You there?
Or have I learned to trust the gaze of the One who has never left— the One who is still looking at me, even when I cannot see Him?
