Writing is freeing. It is also quite weighty. It is simple and it is complex. Lighthearted writing happens often, but there are moments I am like (one half of) a couple of starry-eyed lovers running off into the sunset and away from my thoughts.
When a phrase of a scripture hit and stuck with me for years, I contemplated weaving it into a beautiful tattoo, instead I had my leather-working-father-in-law construct a bracelet that only leaves my wrist when I’m painting. It comes to mind over and over. I don’t write about it because of the heftiness of what it may hold. So my thoughts run.
When God ends what has felt like a lengthy silence with one sweet reminder after another after another in a matter of half an hour, but the intricacies of it all seem so vast. I don’t write about it because of the heftiness of what it may hold. So my thoughts run.
When I spend three days sitting with my family experiencing unified heartbreak as moments and hours and days tick by; being made aware of the impeccable strength of not just one of the members here, but all of them. The thread of strength woven throughout all of us. The bond. The admiration. The faith. I don’t write about it because of the heftiness of what it may hold. So my thoughts run.
As fast as starry-eyed lovers bolting into the sunset, they run.
There have been lots of thoughts to run from lately. Here I sit finally pulling out this journal of mine to write, but knowing I won’t write about those things, not in depth at least. I will write about not writing about these things. If you’ve ever been to therapy and have recognized, “man, that was hard work.” Or, “yeah…I’m not ready to go there.” That’s how I feel about certain topics. There may be healing in writing those things, but the work it would take seems weighty.
At the time of writing this, my five year old is currently in a cast up to his little shoulder. Yesterday I was heading nearly five hours from home to photograph a wedding, knowing I wouldn’t be back until close to 2:00 AM. At 9:00 that evening, I called Kyle to let him know I was beginning the trek home. He informed me that most of his evening was spent in the E.R. with J. Of course, the mom-guilt flooded me immediately and I began the game of “Race the Map “and “Beat the ETA.” It would have been nice to have my Lightning McQueen Buddy in the driver’s seat. It could have been worse, of course, but I was still unenthused that I was 298 miles away from my seemingly broken child. (On a positive note, the wedding was quite incredible.)
My casual drive to the wedding included three stops along the way to get out and about and break up the sitting. I rarely drink caffeine, but earlier in the day I had planned to stop and grab something on my way home to ensure additional alertness (Note: I am a night owl and seeing 1:00, 2:00, or 3:00 a.m. is not uncommon, but put me behind the wheel at even 4:00 in the afternoon and I could be asleep in no time.) On this night, the desire to get home far outweighed my need for caffeine and all of a sudden my eyes were fixed on the road and getting back to snuggle the little dude.
Our eyes are impeccable organs. We communicate with them. They communicate with our brains. They are crucial in directing our attention and influencing where we move. My eyes were fixed on the road. My attention was fixed on getting home.
Throughout the Bible several scriptures mention looking to Jesus or fixing our eyes on Him (i.e., Hebrews 12:2; Psalm 123:1). How easy is it for the enemy these days? “Let me just distract them. Let me just snag their attention. That’ll do the trick.”
Within the world of sport psychology, there’s a technique called the Quiet Eye. It’s the moment right before an athlete makes a decision, when they are focused and zoned in on the task before them. The technique helps the athlete block out distractions and irrelevant information. When an athlete’s gaze shifts away from the target, the subject’s attention also shifts. The longer the subject’s eyes are unfocused on the aim, the lower the Quiet Eye and the less accurate the outcome (USC, 2023). The Quiet Eye helps connect visual information to motor actions. By maintaining focus, the athlete can more effectively coordinate their movements and execute them with greater precision. The term was coined by Gershon Tenenbaum of Florida State University in his Sport & Exercise Psychology Lab.
One day I will give attention to that phrase/that scripture more deeply. One day, I will attend to that moment in the car for more than a few moments. One day I will focus in on the experience of what took place at the end of March 2025. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve pondered them, I’ve been open to hearing the Lord, I’ve let these moments change me…I’ve just not taken the time to set down and write about them. One day, I will fix my gaze on them for an extended amount of time and see what comes to fruition.
Our gaze leads to focus; our lack thereof…distraction.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus! Look full in his wonderful face. And the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.