“I’m not letting you out of my sight!”
The Lovely Lady needed a few things from the grocery store. No, she wasn’t sending me for them. With more than forty years of hands-on experience, she knows better than to chance that near-certain fiasco. Instead, she had graciously offered to let me sit in my easy chair and nap for a few minutes before the grandchildren descended upon us for the evening.
My facetious reply would come back to haunt me (but perhaps, not in the way one would expect).
Did I say we’ve been attached for more than forty years? I know the common perception is that the individuals who are half of an old married couple would almost always prefer some “alone time”, some space between them given the opportunity.
I’m happy to report it to be a misconception in our case. I know quite a number of those old married couples. Many of them would take issue with the stereotype, as well.
I like being with her. She’ll have to speak for herself as to her preference in the matter, but she seems to enjoy my company—most of the time.
I went to the grocery store with her.
On our way out of the store, having made our purchases, we saw the wife of my preacher friend (she’s an employee there) and stopped to greet her.
She looked at the Lovely Lady and smiled. Reaching out to touch her hair with the back of her hand, there was an impish gleam in her eye as she mentioned how pretty the red-headed lady was that day. She even suggested that I needed to hold on to this one.
I mentioned my comment to her, jokingly assuring her that I had no intention of ever letting the Lovely Lady out of my sight.
It’s not a promise I intend to keep. Seriously. I don’t.
Of course, she’ll be out of my sight.
She goes to work most weekdays and I don’t go with her. Many evenings, she works in the kitchen while I watch television or work outside. Right now, she’s in bed as I write.
Out of my sight.
I guess I’m not all that good at keeping promises.
But I know Someone who is. He’s even made the same promise I intend to break.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
He fully intends to keep His promise. He’s been at it since long before I was born.
“You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed.”
(Psalm 139:16, NLT)
Every day since then, as I come and go, He fulfills the promise.
“You see me when I travel
and when I rest at home.
You know everything I do.
You know what I am going to say
even before I say it, Lord.”
(Psalm 139: 3-4, NLT)
No matter how hard I try, and how far I run—and I’ve tried, and I’ve run—He’ll be there to keep His promise.
“If I were to ascend to heaven, you would be there.
If I were to sprawl out in Sheol, there you would be.
If I were to fly away on the wings of the dawn,
and settle down on the other side of the sea,
even there your hand would guide me,
your right hand would grab hold of me.”
(Psalm 139:8-10, NET)
His promises aren’t made in jest. They’re not made (as mine was) to win brownie points.
His promises are made to assure us of His love—His overwhelming love—for each one of us.
The Son, when He walked and lived down here in the dirt with us, reiterated the promise, assuring us that, in the midst of trouble and cares, His Father sees us.
And, when He sees us, He knows us. He has no intention of leaving us bereft of His love and provision. None.
“What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it…So don’t be afraid. You are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.”
(Matthew 10:29,31, NLT)
He is El Roi. The God who sees me.
Me.
That doesn’t only mean me, personally. For anyone who says the words, they mean exactly what they say.
The God who sees me.
The old friend who shared that his wife of many years has moved out. The brother who sat at our table today talking about his battle with cancer. The friend I talked with after church who reminded me so gently that she doesn’t have anyone to carry in her groceries from the car, having lost her husband suddenly only months ago.
Every one of them seen. Every one of them loved. Every one of them safe in His care.
Right where we are—doing exactly what we’re doing—we are seen and known. Loved and cherished.
Never alone.
Never not seen.
Not even if you don’t have a dorky old man to follow you around the grocery store pushing your cart.
Because He’s not letting me out of His sight.
He won’t let you out of it, either.
It’s a promise He’ll keep.
“And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own,
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.”
(from In the Garden, by C. Austin Miles)
© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2021. All Rights Reserved.
Seen and known, loved and cherished . . . Oh, how I needed that reminder today, Paul. Thank you, my friend. And it sounds like the lovely lady may be out of your sight from time to time, but never out of your mind and heart.
Blessings!
I’m so glad I read this today. It was really beautiful. A reminder all of us need to know. Especially since the opposition is consistent in telling us that God doesn’t see us, nor does He care about the direction our world is going. If God cared…and he leaves the rest of the sentence up to us to answer. Unfortunately, sometimes we turn to our feelings instead of to what is true, His Word. For not only did He not leave us, not only does He see us, no matter where we are, no matter what we’re doing. But He left us with a manual. Something we can turn to when we question any of His promises. And there between those pages we are reminded again and again of His great love. Just like we’re reminded when the Holy Spirit will softly let one of the old hymns start to play in the back of our tired minds.
Thank you for this beautiful post.