This window is in the beautiful little chapel of the Jesuit Retreat House in Los Altos, California. I’ve been there several times, and it was on this most recent visit that the words resonated with me. Lord, that I may see.
What in my life do I see clearly ? What in my life do I miss?
Like many of us, the sense that I rely upon the most to engage with my world is the sense of sight. It helps me do the things I classify as unexciting and mundane, like drive and cook dinner. It helps me survive.
But sight also brings joy to my life. With sight, I can fully experience things like this:
But it’s not enough just to see these things. To live richly and gratefully, I need to be conscious that I am seeing them. I need to pause in the moment, or at the end of the day — or both — and let the miracle of those flowers, that sweetly absorbed reader, those vivid red radishes, sink into my soul.
In the Gospel story referenced in the window above, the beggar wants to go from blindness to sight. My challenge is not literal blindness, but taking sight for granted. My challenge is to recognize that God’s grace drenches this world, and that my sense of vision is one of the primary ways that God chooses to share that grace with me.
Lord, that I may see … what a beautiful challenge for the week ahead.