Lift My Eyes

Last night I had the rare experience of being alone for about 35 minutes. It doesn't happen much due to having either one child or both of them with me in the car, at home, or at school. During the school year, I am used to being at the front of a class room filled with students and then on the softball field with players around me, so the alone thing doesn't happen very often. When it does, I almost don't know what to do with myself. Sometimes I will pray and just strike up a conversation with God. Last night I prayed, but it was the "Oh, dear Jesus, keep me safe" kind of prayer. Here is the reason why. My almost 13 year old went home from her travel ball practice with a friend, so I had the trip home to myself. This trip involves a drive over one of our beautiful Tampa Bay bridges, the Howard Frankland, which joins Tampa with its cuter little sister, St. Petersburg. I have always enjoyed traveling over the many bridges in the Tampa Bay area, even when I was a little kid. I remember thinking that the water at night looked like a huge black hole instead of water into which one could fall and never hit the bottom. (Overactive imagination, even as a child) Last night was not one of those times. If you have ever enjoyed a late summer afternoon or evening in Florida, you know that weather which was perfectly clear all day can quickly brew up into the fiercest of lightning storms in a matter of minutes. (We aren't known as the "Lightning Capital of the US for nothing!) After a disturbingly close crack of lightning near the softball field, I decided to scoot home as quickly as my little Hyundai would carry me. Problem: crossing the bay in a lightning storm. It is not for the faint of heart. As I hit the Howard Frankland I winced as lightning branched across the sky from the east to the west booming loud cracks of thunder simultaneously. Driving a bridge over the warm waters of Tampa Bay in a lightning storm is not for the faint of heart. The rain becomes the least of your worries. This time, the storm was close, really close, but not quite upon me. What I noticed next was unexpected and poignant to say the least. On my left the sky looked angry and threatening, lightning flashed again and again with only a few seconds between strikes and black clouds had the sky completely dark, but on my right the sun was still making its slow descent on the western horizon. It was like a slow dance set to romantic music. The color was indescribable having only English words. Vibrant shades of pink and peach and fire streaked the sky, but the water! The water was the very best part. It mirrored the color of the sun's setting at the center, gradually becoming more blue and silver highlighted with brushstrokes of color. It was as if someone had forgotten to inform the west side of the bay that there was a raging storm less than a mile away. A quick glance to my left, and one might be terrified, but my gaze was trained on the breathtaking sunset. A sense of peace and calm washed over me. I didn't want to take my eyes off of the intense spectacle of what appeared to be the sun dipping into the water. Alas, I had to watch the road in front of me, bur all I really wanted to do was stop and stare. Isn't life a lot like this? My motivation to quickly get home was completely forgotten by the peace I felt as the sun made its exit from my sight. I could have kept my eyes trained on the tumult to my left, but the sunset captured my thoughts. I knew it was there, but I didn't really care anymore. There is always something to freak out about in life. Storms that could very well steal everything from us, not the least of which, our peace. The soothing vision of beauty on the western horizon reminded me that no matter how stormy the sky appears, I always have the choice to set my focus on the presence of God in my life. He holds me. Even death cannot steal from me a single promise. I can't control what storms may blindside me. However, I control my focus. Fear melts away when my eyes rest on the beauty of God's good plan for me. He is for me. He is for you. I think this is why the Word reminds us in Psalm 121 to "lift" our eyes. Psalm 121 King James Version (KJV) I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. To "lift our eyes" infers that we must actively choose to focus on that which puts the storm begging for attention into proper perspective. It is just a passing storm. It will come and go. The peaceful presence of God isn't affected by the storm. It might not be the first thing I notice. I may have to seek it out sometimes, but it's there. He won't leave me. He won't forsake me. It is truly beauty: it's the kind of beauty from which I don't want to look away. The more I look upon it, the more I want to keep my gaze upon it. The more I gaze upon the peace and beauty of God's glory and grace, the more I want to stare and worship Him unabashedly.