What If We Could Really See?

Tiny hands stop in the sunlight, bend towards beauty, and snap purple clover from the over-grown pasture.

They see no urgency of purpose, no hate on social media, no worry from the world imploding, hindering their beauty hunt.

And I have said it before, “What if we all were hunters of beauty?”

Seeking the good in a world of bombs of opinions, wars and divisions.

We wait…

Her dad, sisters and me, as she collects purple flowers as if she’s found pure gold lying around, a treasure of wonder in a world that is hers for the taking.

Yet, somewhere we run past. Walk so fast. Miss beauty. A world fixing their eyes on horizons, losing sight of what gifts are surely sprinkled everywhere.

We hear the noise and turn our heads, finding a cause. We fix our minds to charge a goal without realizing what precious pleasures of finding beauty, we might have exchanged, in the process.

This little one, plucks a handful, and then drops one, as her tiny fingers can’t grip any more beauty.

I stop. Watch her. Really see her joy in finding small things, seeing treasures others squash or hastily miss.

She comes my way. Turns her tiny body towards me and lifts her tight fist filled with purple flowers, in front of my face.

I smile, as if given the greatest gift in the world, and my heart melts even more for this child who I willingly give my days to.

Pure love, sweet kindness, thoughtless generosity. Vulnerable hearts. Oh, where did we think growing up would be wonderous, when our lives we waisted and miss and ignore precious children around us?

They say we need to be in the know, have it all together, understand this Apocolypse of a crumbling mess, this species has made of so much beauty.

The Beauty and the Beast

The stallion, my daughter and I saw born, stands tall now. He waits for our weekly greeting, as we see fresh cut layers of grass laying just out of his reach.

His pen in bare. But here, on our side of the fence, a whole row of food, just a few poles away. And isn’t life like that? Kept back while world is starving. Wanting something, just out of reach?

Needing another to come, bend low and assist in their giving, so our insides can be full, complete?

Yet, so many pass by. Give up. Don’t care that the harvest is ripe for the picking.

Accomplishing their goals, their agendas, while missing their neighbor, standing and waiting with an open palm, accepting whatever we might have to give them.

He is a giant among horses. Tall. Elegant. Brilliant and strong. Yet, he sits in a pen alone. No companions. No friends. His mother and sister sit two fields away. He sees them, but can’t touch them.

Social distancing they say. Six feet or more.

Some gather and play. While others wait all alone, for redemption and freedom.

The sister of our toddler who picked the purple clover, looks at this giant behind the fence and hesitantly moves closer.

Because adults can be calloused, but children see a need right before them. A beast with sad eyes, looking at them from across the fence.

And children don’t “get” social distancing. They don’t care about rules or people in high power commanding or demanding systems or regulations…

They just love.

Oh, why don’t we all follow them, and just love?

She steps closer, her two-year-old shoes, tripping over the lumpy fresh cut grass, just feet away from that glorious stallion.

I see in her eyes her longing to feed him.

So, I bend low, scoop up a handful of fresh cut grass and encourage her spirit to step even closer to big things.

Because this life, it doesn’t have any respector of person. And fear will always taunt her to retreat and become complacent.

But who will teach her to fly? Teach her to rise in her faith, see a need and bravely meet it…If I, her mother, doesn’t lead the way?

I want so much for these beauties, the flower pickers, the animal feeders.

I want them to become women who lead in finding beauty, women who step forward in confidence as they follow His spirit leading them.

She already knows the way. Like a magnet, this toddler, draws closer in faith. She reaches for the pile of cut grass in my hand, as if something inside her was already made for this moment.

And then, she does what most adults keep failing, struggle at. Fear doing…

She slowly extends her hand to another.

The giant, alone in his pen, strong body and sad eyes, looks towards her in patience. And the two-year-old reaching, connects, in hopes she might help love, this giant in her path.

And who have we helps recently? Who have we seen and approached, regardless of their size or their purpose?

Who have we acknowledged? And connected with? And why do we let fences and rules, and demands of the few keep us from one another?

Weren’t we all made for connection? For giving? For living a life looking into the eyes of one another? Unmasked from our self-protections of money and prestige, power and plastic presentations?

The large leans in towards the little; not ferocious, not ripping the hay from a vulnerable hand…But gently, kindly, slowly.

Almost knowing the innocent that is coming towards him with compassion, waiting and tender, little hand wide open, reached forward in generosity.

And when it does, he leans in. That mighty stallion who we’ve seen kicking powerfully around his pen, throwing dust a story high…

Leans in, slowly and nibbles the hay from my tiny daughters hand.

It’s a powerful, magical moment. Not because it made evening headlines, but because of the beauty of compassion, of a little girl seeing a lonely stallion, and reaching for him out of faith.

Some say faith is twisting your mind to find a goal. Fixing your head on a plan and then racing like a horse, let out of a pen, until you meet some self-made agenda.

Others say faith is just dreaming and then waiting for the faith-gods to fulfill your hopes, because of your own righteousness…

But, I say faith is having open eyes, an open heart, hunting for beauty, in a field of overgrown grass. It is seeing a need before you, regardless of how massive, and then doing something to meeet it.

Knowing you are small, maybe even insignificant. Yet, your moment before a need might be the reason of your existence…

And so, just naturally you follow His spirits leading and do the next best thing…

Feeding the lonely, reaching towards the waiting, seeing the longing of those imprisoned by others…

And then doing something about it.

I want to be like a child.

Scripture tells us, “We must be like little children, if we want to enter heaven.”

Yet sadly, most of us are landownders, dictators, particpants on a brutal race….Instead of observers, fellow created, eyes unblind to the land and animals and people all around us.

We want to see. We even shake our fists at heaven and command God make us see. But I wonder if…

Maybe we must first begin to notice what is already before us….Before we can rule nations.

She strokes his mane as he chews the grass, eyes beaming in thankfulness. My palm is filled with purpose clovers and we all hold hands as we make our way home.

And I am ready, to find my way home. Keep treading, wherever we might go…

Because beauty is all around me, and I have already won this race…

Stopping, seeing, learning from the gifts he has places as frangrances of His love. The gift of children, walking in faith as they step forward, notice, and appreciate all of creation.

Giving what’s needed and beautiful away.

Oh, if we as a nation, could only do the same.