Eyes to See

It's not that some days there are no needy people in my life. It's just that some days I have eyes to see.

On Sunday I asked a girl if she would be heading back to college soon. It was classic small talk; she said, "Tuesday," and I said, "Are you looking forward to it?" and she said, "Yes," but it was just a facade, and her mom said, "It's a lot of hard work," to fill in the conversational gap and help express what her daughter wasn't saying. I asked if there were some things she was enjoying about school, and then I looked up and her beautiful brown eyes were shimmering with tears, her smile apologetic, as if to say, "I didn't mean to fall apart right here, right now." Of course she didn't; no one wants to fall apart, and she doesn't know me well, so why would she want to bare her soul to me? But we are all falling apart sometimes, and the veneer wears thin. We fight to keep it in place, but it is when the veneer is thin that relationship happens. I touched her arm, grateful for the connection, aching for her. "I will pray for you."

She's always chatty and smiling, buoyant. But when she walked up to me on Sunday and was asked how she was doing, she told of being sick in bed all week with no symptoms other than a rash and utter weariness, a complete inability to get up and care for her family. When she went to the doctor and checked out fine physically, the doctor's diagnosis was depression. "But I don't believe in depression!" she told us. "I'm not a depressed person." Yet, at the intersection of leaving her longtime home, wrenching family troubles, and the end of a sweet season of Christmas togetherness, she was left feeling rootless and lethargic. What is the point of going on, she wondered. She is battling against it, but the pain and the apathy are real and present for her in this season.

"I hope I'll be able to get a nap in," another woman confided as she discussed the Sunday afternoon schedule. Her health is fragile and her energy carefully rationed, but she was going from church to lunch at a friend's house to hosting a group in her home that evening. The day before she uncovered serious behavioral issues in her daughter, revealing serious heart issues. She shared gratefully about receiving wise counsel and encouragement from unexpected sources that morning, but still, the enormity of the task before her -- shaping this broken girl's heart -- looms larger than her strength or resources.

Each Sunday at church, each day I go to the grocery store or to a friend's house, the real, needy people are there. I am so quick to be smart and superior, to categorize and criticize and even make a joke about the shortcomings of someone else. But sometimes, God gives me eyes to see and I cannot forget the beautiful, excruciating sight of these hearts. May I live humbly that I may see more often.