Don't let your eyes rest, you may miss Him.

It is always refreshing to read the words of the saints. Have you ever sat with the writings of Charles Spurgeon or contemplated the thoughts of A.W. Tozer or Francis Feneoln? They were each so bold. So focused on one thing. Inspiring, to say the least.

I have some back issues, to put it lightly. The honest description is that I feel like an 80 year old trapped in this body. Some days are worse than others, but none without pain. In the end, I would say, though at times it is hard for me to really believe it: pain is a driving force, a sharpening tool, a humbling push, a necessary thing. I say that, while at the same exact time I can tell you boldly that I hate it. My mind wanders to a saint who lived above and in spite of her wrenching pain: Amy Carmichael. Look her up. Read a few of her thoughts and you will unearth some higher perspective. I just have a few lines of something I read today from a collection of her writings named, I Come Quietly to Meet You.

In one of the apocryphal books it is written: “Go your way, and see beauty and greatness...as much as your eyes are able to see” (II Esdras 10:55)...as much as your eyes are able to see. It is only when we look and look and look that we really see. And the more we know of the object we are looking at, the more we see in it...It is the I in you and me that blinds our eyes. The loss of I--that I may know Him, see Him with new clearness in all creation...even in the souls of the unlovable and unbeautiful. I want more and more to see His is goodness and His beauty. Not vaguely, nor just from time to time. I want to see Him truly, continually, in His work, in those who love Him, in His book, in Himself...

Not just from time to time...we settle for that every single day.

Amy Carmichael sat bedridden for many years suffering with intense neurological pain from a fall. She was expected to recover and never did. These were the years, in her bed, that she wrote of the treasures of the spiritual world. She came alive when her body was quite useless. But from ashes of pain came the beauty of her pen.

So today, as I am in pain, as are many, I look to Amy as a reminder of the beauty around me, all the time. Ash Wednesday approaches and leads us into a season of Lent. Let it be that we look for as much as our eyes can see....