Journal entry by Loretta Beyer — March 14, 2021

To each of us, I feel, there is a heightened sense of awareness and sensitivity to one sense over the other, depending on how we are wired and our personality.

For instance, an artist friend of mine and I can be walking outside or viewing the same painting, and we return from our sortie with two totally different descriptions or tales of what we just encountered.

The painter sees every vibrant color and nuance, picks up on each exquisite detail, angle, light reflection, and has enough visual appreciation and background to fully appreciate exactly what is all included in the feast set before him.

I, on the other hand, admire the masterpiece in my head, but all of the extra resonates with such deeper overtones for them that they can comprehend it from their heart and possibly be inspired to imitate or pursue their own version of it. It nourishes their soul.

When we returned from said walk, they would undoubtedly wax eloquent on the vivid blue of the sky, puffy white clouds tinged with rose or rusty hues, the sparkle of shimmering diamond snowflakes, the advent of cheery yellow crocuses, the green hues of trees taking on the elegant sheen of their new green buds.

I, on the other hand, might take that artist to a concert with me, where we would both enjoy the same rousing symphony of sound, blend of harmony, flights of brilliant rhythm or soothing sounds of peace and quiet, and, again, we would end with two totally different perspectives.

As a musician, I am aurally fixated on any sound, and my brain must be actively engaged with whatever is transpiring there. That is why I always prefer instrumental music as opposed to ones with lyrics and why I cannot sleep next to a ticking alarm clock or ignore loud music or noise in the campground next door. I’ll choose a written book any day over an audio one or a blog.

We often use the expression, “Oh, I see,” when we don’t really. Does that sight refer to understanding, enlightenment, comprehension, or visual recognition? There are so many double meanings for the same word in any language.

There are many references in the Bible to sight, both physical and spiritual. Jesus healed the blind man and restored vision to his body. The line from the hymn “It Is Well With My Soul,” by Spafford, “And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,” is based on the verse taken from I Corinthians 13:12: “For now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face, for we shall see Him as He is (KJV).”

Ephesians 1:18: “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you, the riches of His glorious inheritance in His holy people.”

The song by Michael W. Smith, “Open the Eyes of My Heart Lord,” is one on which I have been meditating today, and I find my heart yearning and turning toward my new home.

Put it on sometime soon and soak in the words. What a powerful message packed with power and yearning.

Hebrews 11:1: “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (KJV).”

As my body continues to struggle more and more physically, God is beginning to teach me to look up, to rest in His promises of the day when soon I will see Him as He is, face to face.

This spring, when you see your first red robin and the grass begins to green, think about the amazing gift of sight, with its myriad prism of reflections, and appreciate what we are and have, and thank Him for promising never to leave us or forsake us, even though we “walk through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23).”

Yes, Lord, continue to “open the eyes of my heart Lord, I want to see you.”

This column is published posthumously with permission from the family. Missionary kid Loretta Beyer grew up in Zimbabwe. After graduating college in the U.S. with a degree in music and psychology, she joined her parents in Alpena, because of terrorist warfare in her African home. Over the last 40 years, she has made Alpena her place of ministry.