Lying Eyes

Richness unfolds with every day. Beauty in color and song crowd each moment, enough to make me gasp. A dove shares its tender moan, apples hang in abundant clusters like forgotten cherries, babies giggle in delighted ripples.

But I can't depend on this beauty.  My senses betray me. My eyes lie. My eyes lie and my ears steal.

 What I see and touch and hear cannot frame my life. They will disappear in an instant. When I revel in comfort or beauty, I forget they will eventually desiccate or fly away. I want to delight in their embrace so badly, but can't, at least not for long.

Only Your arms hold beauty, O God.  Only You last forever.  I reach for you, but then I remember...

You love me, I know You do, but I also know what You are--holy, perfect, terrible in power. Because You are holy and I am sinful, I cannot approach You, much less rest in Your embrace. Not on my own, at least.  But there is a way...

You show the way, the only way, to find the solace and peace I most seek:
A  broken spirit and a contrite heart.  These, O God, you will not despise.--Psalm 51:17
"Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God a a little child will by no means enter it." And He took them up in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them.--Mark 10:15-16

If I stand to face You, I will stand alone. If I approach on my knees, remembering my unworthiness, You take me in your loving arms.

The delight earthly beauty brings does not bring comfort or peace for more than the single, sweet moment for which it lasts.

Facing who I am before You, however, allows You to lay aside Your flint and to take me up in tender arms where You provide Your own harmony of color and a song that never ends.