Eyes

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

                                            Maya Angelou

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I have often wondered what it felt like

To have met this guy named Jesus

A dark haired, brown eyed

Slightly dusty dude

Who carried with him

The pain of the world

And the love of God

What did it feel like

To have looked into those eyes

Heard that voice

What would it have felt like to know he saw you

Really saw you

To have him look at you, as if there were no one else in the world?

I think the gift of Jesus was not in the words

Was not in the miracles

Was not even in bread broken

Or the feet washed

But was the way he looked at people

What was in his eyes

Love

A love that transcended the words and the actions

Even those words that challenged, and at times rebuke

Those poor Pharisees and Sadducees

What it must have felt like to be called hypocrites

But still see in those eyes

And the pain that comes with seeing that people

Are wounded and burdening, themselves

And others

Love, pain, acceptance, hope, forgiveness

It was all there

Flowing up from the heart

And out

To the space between

Ah may I have such a heart

May I have such eyes