Can You See Me?

I woke up this morning thinking today would be no different than the day before. That I am just a poor boy that no one sees. I was wrong.
I am a small child.
But my heart is big.

Big enough to feel sad when I see my mother cry. She does not speak of it but I wonder if I am the reason for her tears. Because there isn’t much food to eat and I am always hungry. 

A small child.
With a big appetite.

My father works when he can and I try to do my share to help out but it never seems like enough. And sometimes, when I don’t know what to do, I go to this church in my village. There are people there who tell me about a God who cares and I got your letter saying you care too.

It got me thinking.

I may only be a small child.
But God is big and he can make me strong.

Maybe one day, when I grow up, I will travel beyond the grass walls and dirt floors of my home. Maybe I will be a Compassion sponsor myself. And when I come across a little boy like me, hungry for hope, I will tell him not to give up. Because he is not invisible. His life counts for something. He matters.

Until then, I will go to sleep tonight happy. Because I can close my eyes knowing that God sees me.

A small child. 
With big dreams.

What you have just read is my response to a challenge from Compassion International to write a letter from the perspective of my sponsored child. 

Please watch this inspiring video from Sara Groves and pray for the children who are waiting for someone to tell them they are seen. Sponsors are still needed. CLICK HERE if you would like to be one.

Seeing the Unseen

“I have now seen the One who sees me.” Genesis 16:13b

Ann poses a question, “How are you seeing Jesus?”, and I start thinking. Not how I have seen Him but how I am seeing Him.

In the now and everyday, living and breathing moments, where do I find the One who says, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13

As my husband and I take a sunset walk along the waters edge near our home, we pause to take a picture. How many times do we walk beneath this light-gilded gallery of sky art without taking notice?

God himself painting our days and nights with continually changing colors, drawing our eyes upward, stroking our hearts and our imaginations as He brushes His signature onto another one of His masterful designs.

Might these be the fingerprints of Almighty God? Could it be His invisible hands that led me here to this lighthouse to remind me that He is my guiding light, my safe harbor?

I take note of the brilliant light encircling the landscape. And I sense the love of the eternal One encircling me. He is here. El Roi, “the God who sees”, is watching over me.

So I ask Him.

Lord, please help me to be more perceptive to your presence, your touch. Keep my eyes wide open, ever seeking you. I am human and my limitations are obvious. But, in spite of that, help me to observe the supernatural in the natural world around me. I want always to be able to see the God who sees me.

holy experience