I was meeting someone for the first time. I had no idea what I should expect. He was tall, blond hair, and worked in business. Other than these brief descriptions, which could also fit many Russian and Scandinavian women, I was flying blind. What would he be like? How would we interact? Would we find a common dialogue?
As we shook hands, I sensed that I needed to look with fresh eyes. He was taller than I expected. While he may have been blond in his youth, his hair had long ago given way to gray. The initial conversations told me that he knew far more about financial services than I had been told.
The hours that followed went farther than I thought possible. I was reminded that farthest we are separated from each other is six degrees. From personal interests to the train station we commuted to and on through to our approach to business, there was far more to the man than I had anticipated.
The surprise was connected to my expectations. Given the introduction, they were narrow, confined, and limited. As I understood the invitation to see beyond, the initial limits seemed silly. The change was dramatic, forcing me to face a more painful question. Have I limited my vision when I look at others? Were my assumptions valid? Did I question the obvious?
Seeing with fresh eyes is a need that comes to old and young, wise and less so, on a regular basis. An old wisdom father was reminded of a truth. “No matter what happens, I’m [God] with you and no one is going to be able to hurt you. You have no idea how many people I have on my side in this city.” (Acts 18.10) The truth is painful. I have no idea. I am blind to what is happening.
The day unfolded in ways that left me holding threads with potential. There are opportunities coming from every direction. I can embrace or narrow my view. I can be willing to see more or live with my blindness.
