The maker of the mountains and crafter of the seas, you have formed the hands that hold on to these. You have brought intrigue, you have open hearts of men to the wonders of the earth. You have exposed that which was hidden and left it to be found.
Is that what I see when I look into the eyes of those before me?
Grant me intuition to know the reality of the words and the actions that they take. Do not let me be blinded to the false pretenses placed above the truth.
I am weak. I cannot see the things others see. I search for the beauty in the hearts of anyone I find. I seek the wonder in their smiles. Does this make me naive? Is it a weakness to see the things you’ve crafted, not for what they are, but for what they were meant to be?
I don’t see the scars upon her face, but the years of walking next to you.
The broken smile tells me his story, how far he fell before coming face to face with his savoir!
Limping by me, I wonder at the sacrifices he made to run the race with integrity.
Father, am I naïve to see the beauty beneath the garbage? Am I a fool to see the broken and hurting as ones who can be made whole?
Yet how is it, that when faced with earthly beauty, I can only see the pain and bruises beneath the skin? Why does her smile fill me with mourning? How can his laughter pull at my heart and overcome me with sadness? I find no joy in the things the men of the earth do.
Why have you built me this way? For what purpose do you place the burdens on me?
For upon such a revelation, I will carry it out with even greater fervor than I have no. I will not hesitate with your guidance. Even if that means I walk the foolish path. For you, I will be naïve.