Invisible Me

She knelt by the bed as if in prayer, the soles of her pajama footies upturned, her little body in plain sight. A blanket covered her head. In two-year-old logic, if she couldn’t see me, I couldn’t see her.

I called out in sing-song question, “Where is Amee?”

She quivered, excitement boiled inside her, invisible in a clever hide and seek game.

Life, with its marks of value, it’s insistent need to be known and recognized fools me at times. I fall for it. And sometimes, I feel invisible.

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.”  Luke 12:6-7 (ESV).

We had a lot of sparrows on the Kansas farm. They watched us labor below from where they perched above like ordinary drab fixtures in a line. I marveled at their audacity to sit on an electric wire and not get fried.

I often wondered why God didn’t mention a bird of more value to start with. He could have compared us to a cardinal with flaming red feathers, a pretty robin, or one of the hawks that glided through the blue above our wheat fields.

But sparrows? Those birds were a pain-in-the-shed. Literally. They made a mess. 

Many sparrows made many-much-big messes.

The point of course is our importance to God, not the insignificant brown, dull sparrow. If my desire is to reflect Christ, then my goal will be to make Him visible. Like the Apostle John said about Jesus, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Jn. 3:30; NKJV.  

Yet, how appropriate the most commonplace, invisible-ordinary is made and loved by God. Knit by His hand. Woven perfectly.

“My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.” Psalm 139:15; (ESV)

I search for the counterfeit, an elusive Facebook like, when I could revel in the heavenly like. I look for notice, an acknowledgement of me, rather than recognition of Him.

The sham is that I’m like our two-year-old with a blanket covering her head. If people don’t see me, I feel invisible. But it’s where no one sees, that lessons are learned. It’s where I discipline my image to fade and His to shine.

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” Ps. 139:16 (ESV).

Maybe you feel invisible at times too. A crucial question underlies that uncomfortable place.

Who’s eyes do I seek?

Jesus saw me from a cross, His vision pierced my mother’s womb. 

He sees me. It is enough.

Take a long look at a gloriously crafted sparrow. “And not one of them is forgotten before God.” Luke 12:7 (ESV).

©2016 Sylvia Schroeder

[mc4wp_form id=”631″]