Beverly and I had been married not quite a year. With little money, we lived in an ancient apartment and barely made it from month to month. But when Valentine's Day arrived, I wanted to do something special. So I gathered my meager savings and took her to a restaurant I'd heard about.

 

The place was very elegant---the kind where lights are dimmed, linens drape the tables, and forks outnumber your fingers. Very romantic. Beverly was impressed. By God's grace, I had done well.

 

After we were seated, she looked over the menu while I secretly counted my money. Then armed with the assurance, "While I might not eat tomorrow, we will eat tonight," we boldly ordered. As the server left, a gentleman with a platter strolled by. "Would you care for an appetizer." We did care.

 

I'm not sure what Beverly got. My memory's a little fuzzy there. Probably some assortment of cheese. I, on the other hand, confidently motioned toward a small bowl with thin strips of beef-looking things. The man smiled. "Excellent choice."

 

I glanced at Beverly. She had that look on her face I still mistook for, "Oh, that man of mine." It would be years later before I recognized it correctly as, "Here we go again." And there we went.

 

As Beverly ate her appetizer, I took a big bite of mine and promptly said, much too loudly for such a fine restaurant, "Oh, dear God!" I then spit out the morsel and feverishly scraped the foul taste from my tongue with my elegant linen napkin. Turned out the beef-looking things were not beef at all, but quite oily and incredibly salty anchovies.

 

It's amazing what occurs when we fail to open our eyes and see what's going on. Everything is dim to us. We assume the truth and much of the time are dangerously satisfied with that. We claim to understand, or convince ourselves that understanding isn't important. "What could possibly happen?" You could stick a smelly fish in your mouth, for one thing.

 

When we don't open our eyes and see those around us...we cannot comfort a crying child, a grieving friend, or a spouse, child or relative who has suffered a devastating blow in this life.

 

When we don't open our eyes and know what's going on, we cannot care for them, encourage them, or love them.

 

When we don't open our eyes and understand where we're headed, we cannot know the Father, find His Son, or walk in His Spirit.

 

King David had problems in life whenever he chose to live in the dim light of this world. Pride, arrogance, and unbridled power destroyed his family. He became a liar, thief, and murderer. But by returning to God, he found peace...even in the midst of his storm.

 

The commands of the Lord  are radiant, giving light to the eyes...My eyes are ever on the Lord, for only He will release my feet from the snare...Turn my eyes away from worthless things; preserve my life according to Your word...I lift up my eyes to You, to You whose throne is in heaven. (Psalms 19:8; 25:15; 119:37; 123:1)

 

Open your eyes. See what's going on. Love others. Seek God. And discover the depth of what Jesus meant when He said, Blessed are the eyes that see what you see (Luke 10:23). 

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