Wednesday, December 18, 2019

The person with the “pray for me” eyes

The eyes have it. I know it’s a play on words, but it’s ever so true.
Anyone who’s ever been depressed or anxious, or who’s suffered loss or lives with PTSD, or who bears the bodily marks of trauma, with threads of dread woven through the mind, will know. They will know.
What will they know, we may ask?
There is a look we detect in a person’s eyes who is struggling. If we’re struggling and we look into a mirror, we see a duplicitous image—one that looks normal to our eyes, but also another one that betrays that image.
The second image is seen through the filter of our heart. We see weakness and vulnerability. We see the words, “Pray for me,” written through the eyes of the heart in the second image. This is a desperate voice that is already doubting whether anything will help; already doubting whether they’ll be believed; already doubting whether there is any point to even requesting prayer.
The person with the “pray for me” eyes is certainly feeling beyond help. When we’re there we feel as if we’re beyond the miraculous touch of God, even if in our minds we say we believe and know notionally at least that with God all things are possible.
What we must do when we’re healthy enough to care is to sense this look in another person’s eyes. We don’t need to feel we must fix them or their issue, but being available to absorb their feeling of estrangement, and being there enough to build empathy through eye contact and proximity is crucial. It never seems like we’re doing that much when we’re caring, but what seems little is already just so much for the person being cared for!
If we’re the person with the “pray for me” eyes, we must seek out support.
Finding a person who will sit with us even for ten minutes. Someone we can trust. Someone who won’t prod and poke. Someone who will listen, and if they’re given a word of encouragement to give it. The truth is we’re searching for answers, and we can get those answers from the least likely of places at times.
Being alive is encountering people enough to see the “pray for me” eyes, and then to act on that discernment. “Are you okay?” One of the most powerful and lifegiving sentences known to humankind when asked with solemn sincerity.


Photo by Daniil Kuželev on Unsplash

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