Eyes to see

Quite a few of my friends have traveled to countries around the world and a few have literally been to the four corners of the earth. I have a confession to make: it makes me a bit green (with envy). Their stories of far-land-away adventures are amazing and eye opening, but it leaves me feeling not so very cultured or informed. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to step inside their brain to see what comes to mind when experiencing ordinary life events. When they smell fresh baked bread, for example, does their mind go back to that little side street market somewhere in Italy where they bought an artisan loaf? When they see brightly colored clothing, do they think of the silk costumes of dancers in Thailand? Does the sight of a coconut make them wistful for a Pacific island they once visited?
A parallel thought runs alongside this quiet envy: "for I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto me." I realize that there is richness and abundance right under my nose, more than I can really be perceptive to or that I conciously take in and enjoy. Eyes to see the wonder of ordinary things is a challenge, but it helps me to appreciate my particular allotment. I tested that thought recently around the campus. I took pictures in black and white of just five things that caught my attention on one little walk on one random day. My brain surely noticed and captured a thousand, ten thousand images, but I picked five. They are five very ordinary things, but the point is, they were noticed. I did this for myself; my way of proving that before I get all antsy to see the world, I ought to really appreciate my little bit of earth. So...in no particular order I give you a shrub with irridescent berries (I will let your imagination tell you what color they ought to be), a window trying to look like a sun, a study in perspective at the bottom of a steep flight of stairs, a flower in perfect bloom ( I half expected her to turn and look at me and wink!), and a garden gate leading to some pleasant little space, doesn't it beckon, "Come in!"
Contentment with my little bit of earth is a way of showing gratitude to my Father in Heaven. If I am constantly pining for things I think I want or hope to experience, but fail to appreciate the mercies under my nose I am a very whiny child indeed. (And in our home you know how we feel about being whiny!)
Interestingly enough, the Savior performed his earthly mission in a very small geographical area. He was not well traveled, but his life's mission was performed well--perfectly well. And within that sphere he noticed and blessed and communed with the ordinary. A man with the palsy, a woman with an issue of blood, an invalid at the pool of Bethesda, the blind, the lame, the deaf. He is one who took full advantage of his time and place and circumstance and had the perceptive vision to make an ordinary day into a day of miracles for someone in need. Mormon calls it being "quick to observe"; its fullest refinement is spiritual discernment.
One of my favorite chapters in the Book of Mormon is 3 Nephi 17. The Savior becomes so very real to me in these verses; the mercy he displays is so tangible. He says: "I perceive that ye are weak...go ye unto your homes, and ponder...and prepare your minds for the morrow, and I come unto you again" (vs. 2-3). The Savior is perceptive to their unspoken feelings seeing that "they were in tears, and did look steadfastly upon him as if they would ask him to tarry a little longer with them." His bowels are filled with compassion and he invites any that are sick, any that are lame, any that are blind, or halt, or maimed, or leprous, or withered, or deaf, or that are afflicted in any manner to come and experience the Savior's mercy and be healed. Why does he do this? Because as He says, "I see that your faith is sufficient that I should heal you" (vs. 7-8). With great tenderness He does heal them, every one. The chapter concludes with this summary "and the multitude did see and hear and bear record...for they all of them did see and hear every man for himself" (vs. 25). How merciful a Savior who would provide the means for all to truly see and hear BEFORE praying with them and BEFORE blessing their children. This most sacred experience was enjoyed to the fullest by everyone because they were first healed by Him who is ever perceptive to our needs.
And what does all this mean for me? There is a connection to be made here. If I am perceptive to the invitation, it is to truly see and discern beauty and goodness in nature, but more importantly in the people all around me. It is to acknowledge my gifts as opportunities to be perceptive for someone else and it is to make the most of my little bit of earth.