The Gaze of the Soul

“Look into my eyes,” I say.  

She looks as though her world is about to fall apart. She can’t seem to bring herself to look up. Does she doubt my love?

Does she think she knows better than I? Does she really believe I don’t want what’s best for her? 

I crouch down and get eye level with her. “Look into my eyes,” I repeat. 

She just glances into them, but then her eyes continue to look around the room. She seems to think her life is ruined. Crocodile tears stream down her cheeks. 

I know differently. Her life is not ruined. We are heading in the right direction. She’s growing. She’s learning. I haven’t left her. I’m still right here, and I plan to stay by her side while she grows and learns. 

“No, no... Look into my eyes, and keep looking,” I say.

 

Finally, her little blue eyes meet mine. This time, she doesn’t look away. Her eyes soften. She realizes I do love her. Whatever I was saying seems to make it past that sound barrier that makes my words sound like mush and I can see she really is hearing me now.  

“I love you,” I say. I say it not only with my words, but with my eyes. And somehow, she finally gets the message. Whatever had been happening seems to be settled by the spoken and unspoken communication happening between us. Her little heart comes to rest, and a peaceful smile crosses her face, and I know she truly got it.  

It’s no longer a question in her mind.  

I love her, and her little heart is certain of it. 

… 

I don’t know about you, but self-pity has a way of creeping in whenever I am in a new season of difficulty.  

Self-pity is that voice that says.... 

         You deserve a break... 

         You deserve better... 

         Now is a good time to have a pity party... 

         No one else really cares enough to help you out... 

         You have to help yourself... 

         Poor you. You're suffering so much...  

         Everyone else has it better than you...  

(Or really, anything that pits God and others against you and makes you the victim.)  

Self-pity works hand-in-hand with doubt, fear, worry, and anything else of that nature that we open the door to.  

Self-pity... 

 Undermines my confidence in God 

Drains me of strength. 

Stops me from caring about others. 

Pulls the plug on prayer. 

Discourages me from going to God for the answers. 

Infiltrates my soul with doubts that He even loves me or cares.  

Whenever I give in to self-pity, I... 

Listen to more lies.  

Open the door to more spiritual attack. 

Get off the offensive in the spiritual battle and into the fetal position. 

Have a victim mentality.  

Have a hard time receiving the truth for what it is.  

Forget about others’ needs and expect them to meet my needs... or lament the fact that they’re not the way I want them to.  

Self-pity is so cunning, too, because most of the time that it is there, it masquerades as a good thing, making me feel as though I need it to be there, because... how else will I survive? 

But self-pity is deadly. It dries me up of all my resources, until I have nothing left to give.  

I speak as one who has much experience with it. Some of the most difficult times in my life were drenched in self-pity. This was the case during an especially challenging time this past month. 

But this time, God put His finger on it. 

I knew it had to go. It was time to stand up to this giant.  

Self-pity is something that appears to be sweet and kind until you stand up to it, and then it drags you down and makes it hard for you to step forward, until Christ Himself comes in and kicks it out. 

You see, it leaves no room for God.  

If it did, it would be exposed as a counterfeit.

A counterfeit for what, you ask?  

How about compassion? Actually, how about the God of all comfort?  

He is the One “who comforts us in all our tribulation....” (2 Corinthians 1:4) 

You see, God does care. But self-pity seeks to blind us to that reality, because if we see His compassion, self-pity loses its place of control over us.  

... 

“Surely Your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life...” (Psalm 23:6 NLT)  

I love the way this particular translation puts it.  

As a wife, being pursued by my husband is a dream come true. But as beautiful and exhilarating as it is to be pursued by the man of my dreams, he would wholeheartedly agree that he can’t do it perfectly and one hundred percent of the time.  

Why? Because he is human –limited in his capacities to do anything, just like anyone else.  

But God (the subject of the verse above) is not human. He has no limit.  

If His word says His love cannot fail, then it can’t. 

Surely, His love, which cannot fail, is pursuing me every single day of my life.

But when self-pity is given the mic and allowed to be the speaker that influences my heart, I don’t see it.  

In Jeremiah 17:6, God said that the person who puts his trust in people and relies on human strength instead of God’s “’...shall not see when good comes...’” 

He was right.

It wasn’t that good didn’t come. It came in so many different ways, just not the way I wanted –thus the self-pity.  

I see the good, but I don’t really see it with appreciation and awe. I see it with contempt. I see it as not the thing I want. (I feel like I’m sounding like a two-year-old.)  

In the verses that follow, God paints a contrasting picture of the person who puts their trust in God. This person is like a tree planted by a river of water. His roots are spread out all along the river, drinking it in. He “’...will not fear when heat comes...’”  

This could also be translated, “He will not see when heat comes.” It has the idea of seeing with fear and trepidation. I’m sure the guy feels the heat, but it doesn’t bother him, because his roots have access to a limitless supply of water.  

… 

Found in that fetal position, listening to the lies that self-pity speaks, He Himself told me to stand up and start walking. It does no good to wait such battles out. 

The truth demands action.  

He loves me, so I am called to enjoy His love, and not to entertain that which opposes it.  

Walking in the truth looks like making a choice that what God says is final, regardless of how wild and crazy my emotions have been and how persuasive self-pity, fear, anxiety, doubt, or anything of that nature may be.  

When my emotions cry, “He doesn't love me!” My choice is to answer back, “Nothing can ever separate me from His love!” (Romans 8)

When self-pity says, “He doesn’t really want what’s best for you,” my response is, “Actually, His plans are always for good and not for evil in my life.” (Jeremiah 17:9) 

This is how Jesus fought these battles. He went back to what He knew to be stable and unmoving- the Word of God. (Matthew 4) 

... 

I’ve heard it said that faith or trust is the gaze of the soul.  

Could it be that self-pity, doubt, fear, worry, anxiety or anything of that nature are mere indicators of what we are gazing long at?  

I see good gifts for what they are when I have long looked into the eyes of the God who loves me and seen He does indeed care.

I see good gifts as things I don’t want when I stare at the circumstances that aren’t going as I wish.  

I see the heat of fiery trials as a threat when I stop at the well of my emotions and drink deeply, letting them define me instead of truth.  

But what if God were getting eye level with us in those moments and saying, “Look at me, my child”? 

Is the wind howling too loudly that you can’t hear it?  

Silence your soul and listen.  

His voice is not in the winds of doubt. Nor is it in the fires of fear and anxiety. It is in the stillness of faith.

… 

“Look into my eyes,” my Heavenly Father says. 

I feel as though my world has fallen apart. I can’t seem to bring myself to look up. Do I doubt His love? Do I think I know better than He? Do I really believe He doesn’t want what’s best for me? 

He crouches down and gets eye level with me. “Look into my eyes,” He repeats. 

I merely glance into them, but then my eyes continue to look around me at all that makes me feel small. I think my life is ruined. Tears stream down my cheeks. 

But He knows differently. My life is not ruined.

We are heading in the right direction. I’m growing. I'm learning. He hasn't left me. He’s still right here, and He plans to stay by my side while I grow and learn, fully intending to finish the work He began in me long ago. 

“No, no... Look into my eyes, and keep looking,” He says.  

Finally, my eyes meet His. This time, I don’t look away. My heart softens. I realize that He does love me. Whatever He was saying seems to make it past that sound barrier that makes His words sound like mush and I really am hearing Him now.  

“I love you,” He says. “Nothing can separate you from My love.” He says it not only with words, but with His eyes.

And somehow, the message finally sinks in. Whatever chaos that had been flying around seems to be settled by the spoken and unspoken communication happening between us. My heart comes to rest, and I'm free to really smile, for I finally see it.  

It’s no longer a question in my mind.  

He loves me, and my heart is certain of it.