Wook At Me!

"Mom. Come on. Come wiff me," says my little, sturdy, earnest 2 and a half year old. "Hermie the crap is 'tuck!" (Hermie the crab is stuck.)

The last thing I wanted to do then and most of the time, is walk upstairs to stare at a shell in the corner of a plastic terrarium. Yet I did. Because he asked.

"Mom, look at me! I'm (top of the lungs voice) IRONMAN! Bleeew! Boooom!" says my six year old as he runs through the living room-wearing a slightly too small Ironman costume and neon orange swim goggles.

On my lap, "Mom. Wook. Wook at my boo boo. Ian hit you. Naughty Ian." (Translation: Mother, please examine my surface laceration. Ian injured me whilst I stood on his head with my snow boots. He is such a card and should be punished.)

My kids don't ask strangers to Wook at them. They ask me, my husband, my Dad, NaNa and Pap. They ask us to look because it matters that we see them. It matters that we are looking. In those frantic, and more often than not, inconvenient times, they need our eyes to meet theirs.

I was 'wooking' at the baby the other night and I really saw him. My baby is slowly disappearing. Angles are replacing my angel's once puffy cheeks. His eyes take in so much more than he can express. His little grin can go from calculated ("If I make her giggle, she might not notice I am slurping the last of her coke.") to sweet ("M-O-M-M-Y-'S H-O-M-E!!!!").

As I am working through a sometimes daily struggle to keep ahead of the emotional tsunami, I realize I am screaming, "Look at me!" too. I need my eyes to meet those that are important. Those that care. Those that have seen much and forgiven more.

I need to look into the eyes of God. It only makes sense that if He is our Heavenly Father that we can. The Bible says so. Religion isn't too averse to the idea. Taking it from idea to reality ain't so easy. I've had moments of excruciating intimacy where I felt enveloped in a truly supernatural love and warmth. Those incidences are rare, precious and few.

Nope, I am looking for a daily, eye to eye experience. I have come to realize that is the one thing I haven't had/tried/done. I also realize it's a key to my future. I realize the power of just one glance to radically and irrevocably change my life.

I am reminded in the giggles of my children, in the smile of my husband when I walk into a room, in the quiet, hushed moment in worship that God is looking for me too.

Today, if I was sitting across from you, I would look you in the eye and say, "You matter. You are important." I would smile, pat your arm, serve you some pie and close with this. It's not just me saying it, but Father God, "Here's looking at you kid!"



Free Counter