Seeing the world through the eyes of love


Seeing the world through the eyes of love is the God view of the world and not our way of seeing.

Generally, we have a polarised view of the world, divisions created by our values system.

Our list for nature goes something like this: monarch butterflies good, white butterflies bad, kauri trees good, pine trees bad.

We tend to apply this to people, towns, countries, every aspect of life.

Good/bad. Comfort/discomfort. Love/fear.

We all operate according to this system. It’s what we call being human.

But we also have that divine presence in us that keeps insisting that the world is not black and white, it is a rainbow of diversity, the many colours of incarnation that pour forth from God and return to God.

So how do we see creation through the eyes of love?

On my own, I can’t do this.

But I can sit on my own road to Jericho and wait for Jesus. He will always stop and say, “What do you want?” and I will cry, “Lord, that I might see.”

It is his touch that makes the difference.

The first thing I notice is that there is no difference between a flower and a weed, except my judgment.

My good and bad definitions disappear with his healing, and everything has its own beauty.

When we see beauty in everything, we see with the eyes of love.

The word ‘love” can be a cliché even in a religious context.

It has been so trivialised that in some contexts it has lost its meaning. But believe me, love is the stuff of spiritual journey.

Love is the impetus for journey. Fear is the inhibitor. Love – fear.

How do those operate in my life? I’m made a list of the effects that I recognize.

Love always calls us to a larger place.

Fear always tries to draw us back to a narrow place.

Love has a quiet soft voice.

Fear had a loud strident voice.

Love is compassionate.

Fear is judgmental.

Love is initive.

Fear is divisive.

Love is a slow feeling, a movement of the heart.

Fear comes quickly as strident thought.

Love sees beauty.

Fear tends to see ugliness.

Love opens me up like a flower.

Fear closes me down.

Love is my spiritual identity.

Fear belongs to my animal instinct for survival.

Whenever a strong thought or feeling arises, I can stand it against this list and see where it belongs. I’m surprised at the times fear has looked highly respectable and love has been as simple as a bowl of soup on a cold day.

  • Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.

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