Seeing Me

The very worst judge of ourselves… is ourself. And we’re not much better at judging others. Oh to see ourselves, not as others see us (apologies to┬áRabbie Burns), but to see ourselves as God sees us.

 

 

When You look at me O Lord,

You see me for what I am.

Naught escapes Your insight;

Deep penetrating all my sham.

 

My sin is ever a’front of You,

Yet You see a beloved child.

For the many times I deny You,

Your sanction is surpassing mild.

 

Can I look at me with Your eyes?

Can I see what’s right and wrong?

To view all in proper balance,

Where weak, where maybe strong?

 

For we can strain at gnats, yet

Completely miss the major deal.

We can nitpick at trivial things,

Blind to the ‘camel’ at our heel.

 

Can I view others with Your eyes?

Being nobody’s fool, yet gauging

Their heart, seeing motives clear,

Discerning, never disparaging?

 

No garment ever so grand, nor

Proudful deportment fools You.

Status and wealth are shallow;

All personas, mere see-through.

 

The great industrialist will wait

Behind the poor peasant woman.

The monarch will take their place

In line beside the dustbin man.

 

You are unimpressed by pomp:

We strut around a wee planet,

Using and abusing our bounty,

With hearts as hard as granite.

 

When You look at me O Lord,

You see beyond this moment,

Always holding past and future

As qualifiers of Your judgment.

 

For You note my provenance:

How it affects my present way;

You know my onward course:

How grace will own Your sway.

 

You see my pilgrim’s progress,

And You grasp my potentiality;

I am not condemned by an act,

Nor omissions annul my fealty.

 

In the morass that is my life,

You, the all powerful and eternal,

Hunker right down beside me,

Com-passion-ate in Your appraisal.

 

To look with Your eyes of love!

Blinkered to bad, for hope of good.

You, Father of new beginnings!

That we might be what we should!