Eyes. The communication through them is memorizing. The lack is empty, painful, and lifeless.
Now, eyes have always been a strange phenomena for me. I often find myself trying to look people in both eyes during a conversation, and getting frustrated that my eyes really can only focus on one eye at a time. So, I find myself trying to figure out which eye is the person's dominant eye.. and trying to focus on looking into that one eye. Yes, I do realize that people who come into contact with me on a face-to-face daily basis will probably be scrutinizing what eye of theirs I am looking at.. but I digress. Back to the focus - eyes have always been a part of the body I find captivating :)
I began thinking more about eyes months ago based on the inspiration of my kids. I often spend time looking into my children's eyes. This happens while cuddling with them before naps, after, or simply while we are together. With my older kids we can look at each other and just start laughing. Without words we can pass "communications" between one another that I consider to be jokes. Surprisingly, Anja and I are developing the same communications. I have been amazed at how she is already "joking," and that we both can look at each other and laugh. It is amazing.
There is so much said beyond the laughter. There is a connection that comes with simply being quiet and looking into one another's eyes. I notice how powerful simply taking an extra minute to simply be together and look at one another can help me feel more connected to my kids, and them to me.
About a month and a half ago we experienced the opposite to be true.
I have heard people talk about experiencing a person who is just not there. While I never questioned for a minute the reality of the situation, I never experienced it.
Then came a Wednesday that began like any other day of the week. Anja was a bit crabby, teething, and had a low-grade fever. It went up to 102, and came down with medicine. Later, when Jon had the kids with me at work, her fever came back, but she was happy.
Then came the change.
She was staring off. Despite my efforts, with eyes wide open Anja was not registering or responding to me.
For the next 5 hours she seized, eyes wide open. He stare was blank. Her stare was empty. Yet, there seemed to be something in there needing me. I stayed near her head. I talked to her, kissed her, sucked her little fingers as she likes me to when she is playing while nursing her, and just was there. We wondered if we would every "see" her again - let alone whether she would live.
Those hours were the scariest hours of my life. What I had just been marveling at with my children seemed to be held at bay for me with Anja.
At 3:30am, while wheeling her to her room after the seizures stopped, the cart hit a bump. It roused her, drugged and all, and she "looked" at us... she responded, she showed she knew us. We knew we had her back in that regard. To use the word celebrate is to cheapen the emotions that coursed through us.
I don't know how eyes can say so much, and I marvel at this. For me, this is a part of creation that speaks so powerfully into my belief that God exists and is so intentional. To try to explain in words is something that cannot be done. The knowing comes through the experiencing.
Each day I get to experience the eyes of my children (and many others too.. but they have been the ones I have been thinking about the most in terms of how much is said through the eyes). It is a gift. It is an experience that is so life-giving for both parties.
I hope you will take the time to look into the eyes of those in your life today, and just experience the connection that comes without words.
