The time I saw the world through my wife’s eyes.
September 2001, just days after 9/11 Shelley and I headed out of Gates County to meet her midwife at the hospital. We were like all couples expecting their first child. Unsure. Scared. Excited.
She’s still bitter about the trip to the hospital. I made her sit on a mattress pad in case her water broke. I had a bowl and towel in case she felt nauseous. I mean, I had a brand new F150. I like to think I was making a wise financial decision by protecting its resell value.
Even though she was having contractions about every 6 minutes, I told her to look normal as we drove past the neighbors so they wouldn’t suspect where we were going just in case it wasn’t really labor. To make matters worse, we got behind a tractor and long line of cars. That new truck was quite capable of passing 8 cars and a tractor. If it can, then it should, right? After all, we weren’t on a Sunday stroll.
Fortunately we made the 45 minute drive to the hospital without having an accident, getting pulled over for speeding or having to deliver a baby en route. If only smartphones and Facebook existed then.
Ask Shelley about the hospital experience and she will tell you about the storm that rolled through the area and knocked the power out to the hospital. Thankfully, they had generators. She’d also tell you about how hungry I was and how I ate nabs while counting when she was pushing. She’d tell you about how cold I was and how the nurses spoiled me with warm blankets.
All those things are true. But I remember different things more clearly. I was amazed at Shelley’s strength and resolve. I was amazed how beautiful she was even in a rather undignified process. I was amazed at the complexity and simple genius of God’s creation.
As Ken Davis says, there were five people in the room and suddenly there were six. Even though I had a better vantage point, Shelley saw her first. I watched as the doctor pulled Kaylee out and toweled her down. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. How could someone that little demand that much attention?
They laid her on Shelley’s chest and she looked down at Kaylee. It was in the reflection of Shelley’s eyes that I truly saw Kaylee for the first time. There’s nothing quite like a momma’s love. Adoration. Commitment. Joy. Delight. Sacrifice. Love. I was excited to see and hold Kaylee but I had not carried her for nine months or suffered the pains of labor and delivery. There was an awe in her eyes as a she looked at the baby girl she had just given birth to. Because of what I saw in Shelley’s eyes, now I looked at Kaylee differently. I too held her in awe.
I think there is a powerful lesson here. As followers of Jesus, when people look into our eyes, what do they see? Do they see all the things we stand against? Do they see the things we condemn? Do they see our fascination with the things of this world? Do they see rejection and contempt? Or, do they see a wide eyed wonder at the glory and majesty of God? Do they see awe at the wonder of grace,hope, and forgiveness that Jesus brings?
I am convinced, now more than ever, the world will be changed by folks who live captivated by the love and goodness of God – people who in return love God and others with an uncommon, sacrificial love. After all, the Bible teaches that believers will be known by their love, not by their doctrinal accuracy or political correctness. Nobody wants to buy what the salesman doesn’t seem convinced of.
There is simply no substitute for uninhibited devotion to, and adoration of God. This is the greatest commandment – to love God with all your heart, mind, and soul. Heaven only knows who will see God the first time in our eyes when we live like that.
No one will get this right all the time. No one is perfect. Abandon any expectation of that. However, we can be real. We can stay in the fight. We can wrestle with our hearts to pursue love more often than we pursue other things.
Have you failed at living like this? Join the crowd. I have too. Here’s the beautiful thing: God still loves you. He can still work in your heart. You can start now.
I think I will.
Your fellow sojourner,
Carl
Snapshots For The Soul 