Different Eyes

The sweetness and joy of following God is that following God is never what is to be expected... plans never match, things fail and fall apart, and somehow in God's mind, everything works out perfectly. I guess it is sweetness and joy to Him, but it looks more like shattered glass to me, falling apart piece by piece, not necessarily at a moment in time. Yes, there are times when more breaks off than expected or there are times when the fragments are so small, that I can barely see them, much less comprehend what happened.

What I saw as sweetness and joy didn't show it's face as that this week. As most of you know, I am supposed to be in India right now but I'm back in Las Vegas. I didn't get my Visa, was given wrong information about my Visa, in Johannesburg, stuck in Dubai's airport for 24 hours (half of which I spent crying and being stared at), and now back in Las Vegas until next Saturday when I go to visit my family on the other side of the U.S. My idea of His best for me was that I spent this week with my very missed roommate from college while she is on the other side of the globe. His best for me was me getting back on a plane, sitting next to someone that made me incredibly uncomfortable for 15 hours and then almost missing my plane back to Vegas because of customs and not being able to find my ticket online, as well as Atlanta throwing away my toothpaste the 2nd time I went through security. I'm worn and tired. I had prayed the entire 6 weeks of Africa that God would let me see with His eyes and that was what He had for me in Dubai. I feel that I have seen what He wants me to see over the past 6 weeks, but I was still missing something. As I sat in the Dubai airport, I realized how unfree I must be and how free I must look. Appearance is everything in the U.S., even in Christian circles. Don't be genuine, look free, don't show your true self, pretend to have it all together. I sat at a restaurant in the airport watching these women, Muslim women, some of whom I could only see their eyes and some of whom I could see their faces. They stared at me as I stared at them. There was something about them that I couldn't really put my finger on at first until I started thinking more about it. Then I realized that I must look free, with my hair fixed the way I want it, wearing a t-shirt, and exposing my entire face to the world. Do they think I'm free? I'm watching them, almost wishing that I was them, able to unexpose myself to the world, able to hide whatever I wanted so that no one could really see what I am or what I look like. That way, I could care less about what people think and I could focus more on what God wants for me because I wouldn't be so distracted. Ridiculous, right? Their eyes encouraged me that I am to be free because of whose I am. I am the Bride of Christ, the one who owns everything, the one who breathes life into me and beats my heart so that I continue living to follow Him. He is the essence and everything of what freedom is. He just IS. I must be in Him, free in Him, free to expose myself to the world so that I can be hurt at some points, so that He can have glory in them all.

If I've learned anything from the above or Africa... it's that He knows best for me. I don't. I see shattered glass as shattered glass. He sees it as a picture of His glory, what I see as bitter, He sees as sweet. If I would only look with His eyes more often, I would see the glass as a reflection of Him because it is. Everything Him, none of me.