I wonder if newborn kittens realize they can't see? As those tiny eyes begin to crack open, what do they think? Another mystery for the universe - I only know that as my eyes begin to crack open I am aware that I didn't know what I wasn't seeing. It was there all the time. I just didn't see it. Sometimes I would catch a glimpse and think I saw. Or a hazy image and (all unready, eyes unfocused) turn away. So much I missed that I am humbled to see now. The sorrow that is not unique to me. The grace and strength of love. The way in which we are all too often inclined to feel isolated in experience which is in reality nearly universal. That there is compensation. That God is very good and very real and very there.
Yesterday was a good day. A hard day but a very good day. Full of blessings and eyes cracking open a little more. Sometimes I shake my head at myself - always wanting to turn away from "hard things" when experience shows pretty consistently that the hard things are the best things in the end. (Kind of the reverse of the 'where much is given, much is expected' principle. Or you only get out what you put in.) If my life was as pastoral as I foolishly persist in believing I would prefer, it would be bland beyond belief and I would be as shallow as that sunny canvas in my mind. Having no desire to be shallow (and with a perverse resistance to plumbing whatever depths there may be) I am grateful for the wisdom of God. As I submit to His will, I learn a little wisdom too. And my life is, instead of bland, full of richness. Rich experience. Untold riches of family, friends, and love. Support. Goodness.
It's not that hard after all. I only have to open my eyes and see.