I once had a guy at school tell me over text that he loved how beautiful and big my green eyes were.
I wanted to tell him my eyes were blue, not green. But I didn’t. My friend Rachel and I ended up laughing about it later and joking about what a dork he was, however with good intentions.
I’ve been wondering lately what we really see when we look into each others’ eyes. Do we see all the pain and mischief? The child-like wonder? Or just empty glass?
I worked yesterday morning and I was running out of my work to try to get across town for Easter brunch with my family. I sat next to my dad and my cousin Drew, across from my uncle, cousin Chris, and cousin Mikey with his fiancé. All the way across the table I met eyes with my cousin Theresa after we’d shared some private text messages moments before (yes at Easter brunch, I know) and I knew as she met my eyes she knew what I was feeling. I felt her empathy, she felt my distress. She was too far from me. I had another beer.
My make-up course starts on this upcoming Sunday. Everyone I’ve talked to thinks it’s weird because, who would really want to teach on a Sunday? Only a crazy and/or broke teacher, that’s who. I’m excited anyway. Maybe it’s just something to do, to kill time or keep myself busy. But I have found that even when we only give God an inch He will take an entire yard. In a good way, of course.
I think everyone struggles with feeling different from everyone else. I was put on this earth to love people. It doesn’t get any more or any less than that. It has no long-term or short-term.
God says to Moses through a burning bush: “I AM.”
It is not deeper than that. There is no justification for it. There’s no blog post on it. In the same way that He is, mightily, so I am just me. Just Annie.
Ready to look into your eyes.