Seeing the Way God Sees

Seeing the way God sees is very difficult for us. First of all, we are human beings. Secondly, we judge things by how they look. God told Samuel that “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Sam 16:7). The context of this was the choosing of David as the next king of Israel. What was strange about the choice was that David was only a teenager. He had none of the experience of a grown man. Samuel had immediately eyed his older brothers as suitable candidates, but God said no to them. I think the following story illustrates how we mistakenly see the value of a life from the way God sees it.

This little story called Autumn Dance, written by Robin Jones Gunn, illustrates that the quality of life is not dependent upon perfect circumstances.

 

She stood a short distance from her guardian at the park this afternoon, her distinctive features revealing that although her body blossomed into young adulthood, her mind would always remain a child’s. My children ran and jumped and sifted sand through perfect, coordinated fingers. Caught up in fighting over a shovel, they didn’t notice when the wind changed, but she did—a wild autumn wind spinning leaves into amber flurries.

 

I called to my boisterous son and jostled my daughter. “Time to go. Mom still has lots to do today.” My rosy-cheeked boy stood tall watching with wide-eyed fascination the gyrating dance of the Down syndrome girl as she scooped up leaves and showered herself with the twirling rain of autumn jubilation. With each twist and hop she sang deep, earthy grunts, a canticle of praise meant only for the One whose breath causes the leaves to tremble from the trees.

 

“Hurry up. Let’s go. Seatbelts on.” I start the car. In the rearview mirror I study her one more time through misty eyes, and then the tears come—not tears of pity for her. The tears are from me, for I am far too sophisticated to publicly shout praises to my Creator. I am whole and intelligent and normal, and so I weep because I will never know the severe mercy that frees such a child and bids her come dance in the autumn leaves.