As I was sitting in my car, I knew that you wanted to meet with me. I knew that there was something in this moment… that if I rushed, I would miss you. I looked down at the clock, knowing that I had to complete something by 11:00. 10:29 stared at me as I knew I had to get inside to get to wifi and do what I needed to do. But in that moment, I knew that you wanted me to see something. You wanted me to chose You. You wanted me to chose to stay there even though I felt like I had to do something else.
So I stayed. I reclined my chair. I put on a worship song. And I closed my eyes. I stayed there with You. I knew that nothing was more important in that moment. Nothing was bigger. Nothing was more pressing. Nothing was more important than me staying there with You… even if it was just for a moment.
I closed my eyes and I saw myself in the last place that I loved… the backyard of my old house. It had this beautiful tree that would blossom wild white flowers in the spring. The grass was soft. The vegetation was lush and the trees were tall. There was shade throughout the day. The fences were tall there and I felt unseen. This place was my sanctuary where I could sit in the sun and rest in the shade. In this place, I let myself explore the world around me. I used my imagination to be with You.
I started simple. I was sitting in a white chair. It was plastic. I started really simple. Across from me was Jesus. He was sitting there, smiling at me. He was in a cheap plastic chair, too… I realized that was silly so then we were sitting on white wood chairs. The old antique ones that I like. You asked me to sing to You. So I started singing. I just looked at you. I looked at Your eyes and smile and just imagine what it would feel like just to be in Your presence.
As I sang to you, this song that was resounding in my car, I really started to think about what I was singing. It wasn’t just a song; it became the cry of my heart. I began to think about the words I was actually saying to you. I was thinking about how they made You feel as I was singing them. They were simple words. “I just want to see through Your eyes.” As I was singing, our chairs got closer. Soon I holding Your wrist and you were holding mine. I could feel the scars. I could feel that holding on to me. And we were just staring at each other. I was just staying there with You.
And then the chorus kicked in. And I wanted to dance. And You said, “Why can’t we do both?” So I stayed in that intimate place with You, feeling the scars of Your wounds for me under my thumbs. And I was dancing barefoot around my yard, with a light white hippie dress, with long wavy hair. You next to me, dancing with me, and we jumped around the yard like children. We slow danced when the verse came back on. And then back to jumping around as the chorus kicked back in. I remember throwing my arms in the air and You laughing and jumping with me.
As the music slowed, we were back in our chairs. We were sitting close, my hands palms up, waiting to see what was next. The words of the song led me in my stumbling words:
“Open my eyes. I want to see you. And You put Your hand over my eyes.
Open my hears. I wanna hear you speak. And You put Your hand over my eyes.
Tell me your thoughts. I love you. What’s on your mind? You are.
I’ll be your friend. I wanna see through your eyes.”
Behind me, I saw a sea of silhouettes of blue people. A triangle lined up behind me. I knew that they were there because I was here. I didn’t know what that meant. Maybe that is what my destiny looks like in people waiting for me to wait on You. All I could see was your eyes. They were clear and blue. It was like the whole world was within them.
And then my song ended.