“oh what we see when we finally stop looking.”
This week, I stopped looking. I have yet to decide whether that is actually a good thing or a bad thing, but as time goes, I think it’s good. I stopped looking for the beauty around me and I stopped noticing the messiness around me. I stopped taking note of the way the sunlight glitters and shines and I stopped remembering the heartache I’ve felt.
I think when I stopped looking, it was more like me throwing in the towel. No matter how much I looked, I was never led here. I was never led to words or images or rhyming, smiling poems or heartfelt haikus or even to stumbling sounds that try to explain what to say.
So I stopped. I packed away the words for a bit and stopped.
I’m reading a book called Biblical Femininity (highly recommend, you can borrow my copy) and it’s got me thinking about Genesis. With Adam and Eve in the garden. With Eve being created to be an ezer kenegdo, an essential counterpart, indispensable companion, or corresponding strength.
I think that’s where it begins. When we lose sight of our purpose, we lose it all. I think that we begin to look because we fail to know and rest in the truth that we are essential. At least, that’s what happens to me. I look for a purpose because I don’t feel it within myself. But when we relearn that we were designed with much purpose, we might just feel a little less lost. We might just stumble upon our role in it all.
This weekend, we went out on the boat and I was stunned by the vastness of the lake. That God would create all of this and it still was not enough to satisfy Him. That He desired for man to be here. That He gave each of us a more special role; that before our creation, more was needed.
That He would hear the crickets sing and still long for the praises of sinful man. That He would number the stars, yet still need to number the hairs on our heads. That He would gaze at the pine trees and they would still not be big enough for Him. That He would watch the waves crash and still desire to watch us dance and sing and play and figure our way through the world. That He wanted us to bear Him image.
Louis Armstrong had it right when he sang, “and I think to myself – what a wonderful world.” I could never see the majesty of the lakes and mountains and trees and doubt that I am necessary. I was created because the rest of the world was not enough for the King of Kings. How incredible.
And that’s where it begins. All our looking and searching is helpless until we see (sometimes literally) the bigger picture. How could we not know that He loves us and needs us and desires us when we gaze at all that is around us?
God, please me to know my role as ezer kenegdo. Help me to know it and believe it. Help me to know that you desire me. That I was created for a purpose, with a purpose. And open my eyes a little bit wider when I fail to see it all.