The Tear

Early Thursday my car rolled across Walnut Avenue while my navigation system steered me away from the freeway to avoid stopped traffic. My mind wandered to a healing moment I had experienced years ago. My mom and I were at a women's event at church. It was a Saturday morning, and round tables filled the church hall. We were sitting across the room from each other, both surrounded by our own friends as we sang worship songs. We began to sing "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus." Through the crowd of standing women, my mom stooped and leaned to find a space through which she could peer at me. She waved her hands until I saw her. Our eyes met, and she smiled a smile that said, "I see you, and I love you."

This stemmed from one of my family of origin's remember-the-time stories we often told. "Remember the time eight-year-old Diane went forward in church to receive Christ and no one saw her? We were sitting in the late room behind the sanctuary listening to the sermon. She asked Mom and Dad, 'Can I go now?' and they said, 'Yes,' thinking she was running off to Sunday School early. On the ride home, she noticed no one was saying anything about her big decision. So when we got home, she sat at the piano and played 'I Have Decided to Follow Jesus' over and over and over again, hoping we would notice. Finally, Ginger telephoned and said, 'I saw Diane go forward in church today. How exciting!'"

The look from my mom brought a smile to my face, a tear to my eye, and healing to a place deep inside me I didn't even realize needed healing. I will always cherish our moment of exchanged glances.

I drove further westward on surface streets and thought about the word "compensation." There are times I notice God giving back to me and others something we previously went without. While growing up, my cousin Dave had one sister, and their parents had a fancy car. He envied our crazy family of eight, whose clunky VW van offered a bumpy and noisy ride. He now has 14 children and drives them in a mini-bus! I have a friend whose mom died when she was young, and she now has friendships with older women and herself mentors moms with young children. I notice God giving these compensatory gifts in ways I least expect. He provides, but not necessarily in the way we expect or through the people we think he would use. I grew up feeling I wasn't seen, being in the middle of a large, busy family. So the times God reminds me he sees me are extra meaningful.

I pulled up to a stop sign at Reservoir Street, where a surprise tear ran down my cheek. Thankfully no one was behind me, so I lingered there a bit, cherishing my tear and letting my heart expand with gratitude. Where the two roads intersected, a memory of my mom's intentional glance intersected with a month-old memory. 

I was in Israel touring with a group from the church my little brother pastors. We visited the Jordan River, and Rod performed baptisms there for whoever wanted to be baptized. A couple from our group had a guitar and sang some songs as we lined up and one by one were prayed over and immersed into the river then lifted up from it. Right before I stepped into the river, I asked the couple to sing "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus." 

When my turn came, Rod had one hand on my shoulder and one hand on my clasped hands while an assistant on the other side did the same thing. He asked me if Jesus was my Lord, if I had trusted him as my savior and wanted to declare my love for him. "Yes, absolutely, yes!" I beamed. Rod prayed the most beautiful prayer over me—a prayer that elicited deep sobs of gratitude as he thanked God for my children, for my healing from hepatitis C, and asked God's blessing and guidance over me as I sought to grow more in love with God and to love others with his love. It was a prayer that said "I see you. I see your heart."

As I sat at the stop sign, lingering with my rolling tear, I knew God had peered through the hazy morning, around the many cars, stooped down, leaned in, and looked at me with a smile that said, "I see you, and I love you."