I’ve been rather contemplative this week.
Our first grandson is graduating from high school. Most 18-year-old boys, I think, don’t know what they want to do with their lives. Tyler is no different. He will be going to college and working at his dad’s business for now. Tyler has many talents. We can think of various opportunities he could pursue which match those talents. But he doesn’t see that. He’s still trying to figure things out.
The son of a very dear friend of mine is struggling with alcohol abuse. This has been a heartbreak for years. But she has faith, and continually prays for him, just as so many others do. But she hasn’t seen results yet. Small glimpses now and then, but not a complete rehabilitation.
There are things in my life that I am working toward. Goals I’ve set. Things I want to accomplish. Sometimes it seems like I’ll never get there. Although I, at times, get discouraged, I keep going, keep trying.
While these things were tumbling around in my mind, I heard a song by Christian Artist Danny Gokey, Haven’t Seen It Yet, playing on the radio. I hope you will click over and listen to it. Reading the words to a song just isn’t the same as listening to the song being sung.
The words that kept resounding in my mind were, “Maybe you just haven’t seen it yet.”
As a little background on Danny, he was one of the 2009 American Idol finalists. Here is his audition tape, which tells his heart-breaking, yet inspiring, story. Although Danny didn’t win the show, he went on to become a very popular Christian recording artist. He wrote Haven’t Seen it Yet based on his story.
Danny’s message is one of hope. Just because we keep working toward or praying for something, yet see no immediate results, it doesn’t mean that our dream, goal, or healing won’t happen.
It’s like the brightest sunrise
Waiting on the other side of the darkest night
Don’t ever lose hope, hold on and believe
Maybe you just haven’t seen it, just haven’t seen it yet
I received a visual reminder of this on my morning walk today. A leaf, moving and bobbing with the wind, was delicately suspended from a nearly invisible tiny spider thread. I saw the leaf and knew, without seeing the spider thread, that it had to be there. And if left alone, I anticipate the spider returning and finishing that web, to make it stronger and visible.
I believed it. But I just hadn’t seen it yet.