Seeing Through God's Eyes

As the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts (declares the Lord) (Is. 55:8).

Every now and then, the curtains of this visible world draw back to allow a glimpse of the invisible world -- and it takes my breath away.  Today was such a day.

Yesterday, we traveled with 15 high-school juniors to the Abbey Youth Fest, an annual gathering of 5000 young adults who come together to celebrate their Catholic Faith and to be encouraged by their mutual energy and strength.  We had heard from others how great the festival was, and we all looked forward to a day of spectacular music, inspirational talks, and fun. 

Despite predictions all week of rain, the weather turned out perfectly--cool, sunny, a small breeze.  The 5000 kids and adults gathered in a huge field around 10:00 a.m., as the first of several bands during the day began playing -- sort of a Christian jazz-fest.  There were groups from about seven states: Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Louisiana, Texas, and other areas.  Some of the groups were highly energized and excited by the music, jumping up and down and waving their arms in the air.  Our kids were not "into" that kind of excitement.  They sat patiently waiting for the first talk.  That, too, seemed to fall flat. 

By 11:00, the sun was high in the heavens; there was no available shade, and our group was wilting.  They were hungry (we had left the parking lot at 7:30); they were not "inspired" by what was happening around them, and I was beginning to wonder why we had all come on this journey.  I had been pretty sure all week that God was leading us to do this, but now I began to doubt.

By 1:00 in the afternoon, the kids were all sunburned and napping on the tarps.  None of them were wearing hats; most of them were amusing themselves by giggling or texting.  Fortunately, around 1:30, a cloud-cover began to move over the entire field, growing deeper and more welcome with each passing hour.  It was not a dark rain-cloud, but more like an umbrella, allowing a cool breeze to refresh us.  For the first time in my life, I began to really understand the Exodus passage that describes the Israelite journey through the desert, accompanied by a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  (Without the cloud by day, they would have fainted from the heat; without the fire by night, they would have frozen after sunset. )  

Mass began at 3:30, and it was beautiful to see 5000 teens worship quietly, without cell phones, chatter, and distraction.  That was the best part of the day, and I continued to glance at the clouds over us with a thankful heart.  After Mass, we decided to gather up the ice-chests and tarps and head back to the bus, even though the bus driver was not supposed to arrive until 7:00 pm.  We thought we'd just sit on the bus for an hour and wait -- but another miracle happened (the first was the cloud-cover).  The bus driver arrived at 6:00 instead of 7:00!

I was so grateful that God was taking care of this small bedraggled group that we had dragged to a long, hot, and in their eyes, boring, day.  It was supposed to be their Confirmation retreat, and it had turned out to be something to endure rather than an inspiration.  I felt that I had let them down somehow.   I kept thinking about Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt into the wilderness, where they experienced hunger and thirst and heat and exhaustion -- and they said to Moses:  Were there no graves in Egypt that you had to bring us out into the desert to die?  In the Exodus story, the people murmured against Moses and even rebelled against him.  As we all got onto the bus for the trip home, I wondered whether the kids would do the same against me, and I wondered what this trip had been all about.  I told  them that despite the heat, boredom, hunger, and exhaustion of the day, I had not heard a lot of whining and complaining, and I was grateful to them for their patience.  But I did wish the day had been more fun and inspiring for them.

In the middle of the night, I got up because I couldn't sleep, and as I sat with God for awhile, I slowly began to see something that I could not see before.  With my physical and mental "eyes," I had been seeing an experience that failed all of my expectations.  Now, seeing the experience through the eyes of God, I saw something else:  all year, in preparing for Confirmation, I have been talking about the fruits of the Holy Spirit --- those qualities of character in us that can arise only from the Spirit of God dwelling in us:  love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Looking back on the day, I could clearly see all of these qualities in our kids.  Though they were hot, tired, hungry, bored, and sunburned; though they desperately wanted us to call the bus-driver and have him come back (an hour and a half) to get us, they did not gripe, complain, whine, or pester me.  They carried their own suffering without inflicting it on me and everyone else around them.  They were good, and patient, and kind, and self-controlled. 

God allowed me for a moment to see through His eyes -- in the long run, a beautiful, joyful, inspirational day, while it would have fulfilled all our hopes and expectations -- was not as valuable to Him as the patience and endurance and long-suffering of these children.  I saw, too, that in most of life's endeavors (such as marriage, for example), we begin our journey full of hope for a wonderful and joyful experience.  But we soon discover that life can be tedious, wearing, boring, exhausting, hot, and hunger-producing, much as the Israelite journey through the desert.  We soon wear down and become discouraged.  In such circumstances, it is a great and immeasurable gift to be traveling with those whose souls are filled with the fruits of the Holy Spirit, rather than with the spirit of grumbling, complaining, whining, and blaming other people for their discomfort. 

Seeing what God sees in these children makes me realize that the Spirit of God does indeed dwell within them, and that it is difficulty, rather than entertainment, that draws forth their goodness.  My prayer is that they, too, will see their goodness and rejoice in it forever!