“Thanks to the processes which we set at work against them centuries ago, they find it all but impossible to believe in the unfamiliar while the familiar is before their eyes.” The Screwtape Letters, Chapter 1
I began re-reading this little chunk of C.S. Lewis loveliness earlier today, and it continually amazes me how he managed to nail our generation decades ago. I see bits of myself in it, though I’m not proud of that fact.
I find it most apparent in my dealings with people these days. Especially my students. I teach music to a challenging group of students, and I daily find myself so focused on their behaviors [the familiar] that I lose track of the child’s heart and the history behind the behaviors [the unfamiliar]. And in doing so, I forget that I’m not just a disciplinarian, meant to whip their behaviors into shape. I’m a minister, and my goal is to get to the heart of them. To show them that maybe there’s a better way. To remember that they’re fighting the same battle between reality and possibility. To acknowledge the emotional, mental, physical beatings that life has dealt them, and to realize that there’s something more, something else, something bigger and better. That they don’t have to perpetuate the cycle.
And yet…to come full circle, I find myself in the same dilemma. I have, in many instances in my life, known doubt and fear and anger and frustration and uncertainty. And in many moments, I hate to say that I’ve come to not only experience those feelings, but to truly dwell in them as though they’re my only reality.
There is more than doubt. More than fear. More than mistakes. There is more to everything than any of us see. And yet we find it so hard to trust the One who does see it all.
Ahhhh…if Your eyes were mine, what would I see? What is your reality? What is your heart? What would I see if I could stop seeing things “as they are” and start really seeing them…as they are…
Let me strive to see with Eyes bigger than mine.