The morning sun flooding into my kitchen is one of my favorite things. Cleveland is known for its long gray winters, and I’m convinced that 202 cloudy days per year we experience occur consecutively between the end of October and early April.
For over the decade we homeschooled. On those rare mornings when the sun shone brightly, I eagerly open all the blinds and sat in blissful warmth. My children had no such love for the sun. Like bats, they would cower away from the light and beg me to close the blinds.
The fact that they seemed to hate the sun baffled me. I was convinced that if we left the blinds open they would learn to enjoy the squares of the sun on the carpet like the cat and I did.
October 30th last year was a sunny day. I’ll never forget returning home from my second cataract surgery. and running for the cover as the light from the family room assaulted my eyes. With the cloudy lenses gone, I could clearly see how bright the light coming through the wall of east facing windows actually was.
The humbling moment of apologizing to my teens was met with rolling-on-the-floor laughter. It’s a good moment in a teenager’s life when their mama admits just at how wrong she was. Don’t get me wrong, I still love the sunlight. But I now can see how bright it really was when they were trying to read and the sun is directly in their eyes.
My perception of reality leads me to draw inaccurate conclusions.
It makes me wonder about other areas of my life. How often are there cataracts on my heart?
- I assume I know what a friend is thinking and react accordingly
- I insist on my way, thinking it’s the only way – the right way
- I think I know all the facts, but I find out later I don’t
What if everyone around me can see clearly and I don’t even know I can’t?
Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting. Psalm 139:23-24
Thank you, God, that you know my heart. Sin can cloud my heart so I don’t see people the way you do. Search me. If there is any offensive way in me show me, so I can confess and forsake it. Thank you for the blood of the cross that washes me clean so I can see clearly again. Lead me in the right way, for on my own I am like a pig in the mud, happy in my ignorance as I make a mess all around me. Thank you, Jesus, my Savior, and my God. Amen.
Have you ever thought your way was right, only to find out later you weren’t? I’d love to hear about it – leave a comment below.