Now spend time seeing

I heard a voice, one that would wish to speak with me. Why is this voice one I would listen to, especially among all the others voices I hear, even the voice of my own thoughts? This voice cuts through my thoughts with a simple request. Do I doubt it is Him? Even if it is not You why would I be hesitant in believing You would want to talk with me?

It is within the place of faith that my reality — the reality of man — becomes something different. It becomes the true reality of us: of where You are, of where You would wish me to be. And so I hear the Voice, as if it's my own cry of the heart.

And I respond: Here am I.

With each interaction doubt ceases.

Each expresses our being together, and is that not where we would both wish to be? You ponder events, meaning, a search for Wisdom within the thought that follows: what is the true meaning? How does it relate to me? What should be my response? Do you hesitate, and why? This should not be unexpected for I would wish always to speak with you. My joy is that you would wish to be with Me. And doubt disappears.

You search the deep layers of the sounds within, and there I am. The eyes would be no different; among all the visions there are layers too, if one would take the time to truly see. Layers of sight. Do you search to see Me as you search to hear Me? Perhaps not as much yet.

Sight is distracting, and of your own interpretation. How can you be certain that what you see is true? It is the same with My voice; how can you be certain it is Me that speaks? By faith you believe. Now believe that as you look you will see Me; faith says you shall. You just need to try to see even as you try to hear. And the truth is you will see Me.

Begin to look deeper; this requires you to look with intention. You sometimes look in ways you think you would find: do you search for something you are familiar with, or should you look for the unfamiliar? That requires looking differently than you have. Expectation in seeing something differently, unique to you, unseen before. That requires taking the time to look at the moments to discover Me.

Don't assess what you are seeing. Look for Me, and the truth of what you are seeing will be revealed. Step back from what you are seeing and do not judge. You'll find your judgment is perhaps not true, My intent different than your assessment. Ask. Where am I? You see as you have always; now see as I do.

You have begun to isolate your tasks into seeing them intently, the doing, the concentration. Now step further into seeing: am I there? Even among the mundane, the repetitive? Do you see Me? If you look deeper your vision will be enhanced, you will see meaning, you will see the unseen, the hoped for, the miraculous. This then becomes true seeing: perhaps nothing you are familiar with, perhaps incomprehensible, questionable. Is it true? You will know by your heart. In the same manner as your hearing. Now spend time seeing. And in the same manner of hearing you will see as I see.

With each interaction doubt ceases.

Each expresses our being together, and is that not where we would both wish to be? You ponder events, meaning, a search for Wisdom within the thought that follow: what is the true meaning? How does it relate to me? What should be my response? Do you hesitate, and why? This should not be unexpected for I would wish always to speak with you. My joy is that you would wish to be with Me. And doubt disappears.

God seems to be saying something deeply simple: that the connection itself is the answer to doubt. The everyday turning toward Him, the continuing desire to hear a response — these are the actions that erode the ground where doubt stands.

Doubt seems to thrive most in isolation: in the darkness where thoughts and feelings of abandonment and distance dwell. But when a decision is made to show up — even with uncertainty — something changes. The very fact that the conversation seems to continue, and the urge to speak and to hear remains insistent, becomes the evidence itself that this interaction with God is real.

The hesitation, the pondering, the quiet inner asking — these are not signs of failure or distance: they are signs of life; signs the soul is reaching. And the voice replies with something like delight: "This should not be unexpected for I would wish always to speak with you. My joy is that you would wish to be with Me."

The Creator expresses His delight around the simple fact that a human heart would turn toward Him, even when uncertain.

So doubt doesn't disqualify.

It becomes the doorway.

"Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you."

— James 4.8

You search the deep layers of the sounds within, and there I am. The eyes would be no different; among all the visions there are layers too, if one would take the time to truly see. Layers of sight. Do you search to see Me as you search to hear Me? Perhaps not as much yet.

The searching in sound feels more directed, moving in silence towards a whisper, as if knowing is reached when clarity is heard. Sound acts to penetrate on its own, moving through layers without needing permission from my thoughts; it seems less under my control.

And once heard it becomes easier to discover again.

Sight, though... it feels more deliberate. The eyes see the world in sharp outlines first, demanding instant interpretation. Thoughts are distracted with color and motion, and the attention is pulled to the 'here' rather than allowing the inward.

To see within, beyond the immediate images, into the living Presence beneath — that requires a slower, more disciplined tuning. This kind of seeing asks for stillness, where sound arrives in motion. It asks for patience, where hearing can arrive unexpectedly.

As in sound there are layers in vision: the physical seeing, the imaginative sight, the further beholding, and then something much deeper — the direct, unveiled gaze, where in the moment ordinary vision dissolves... and Someone eternal is looking back.

And in this one light I now search the eyes of the One I have sought.

"This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear... but blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear."

— Matthew 13.13-16

Sight is distracting, and of your own interpretation. How can you be certain that what you see is true? It is the same with My voice; how can you be certain it is Me that speaks? By faith you believe. Now believe that as you look you will see Me; faith says you shall. You just need to try to see even as you try to hear. And the truth is you will see Me.

God is speaking of the physical senses — especially sight and hearing — as being unreliable pathways to encountering Him.

• Sight can be distracting, even deceiving, because it's shaped by our interpretations, expectations, biases, and illusions.

• The same applies to hearing His voice — how do we know it's truly His and not imagination, or memory, or wishful thinking?

The response is not to abandon the senses as unreliable, but to reorient them... through faith.

His invitation is to try to see with expectation rooted in belief: "as you look you will see Me; faith says you shall." This isn't mere positive thinking — it's an action of trust that aligns the heart and attention, so that the eyes [physical and spiritual] become capable of perceiving what was always present but previously unseen. This action will allow the "eyes of faith" to perceive His promises — and Presence — even when circumstances look barren.

His word is an encouragement to practice 'contemplative gazing' — to look at the world and your own life, not with analytical scrutiny... but with a quiet, trusting openness.

"For we walk by faith, not by sight."

— 2 Corinthians 5.7

Begin to look deeper; this requires you to look with intention. You sometimes look in ways you think you would find: do you search for something you are familiar with, or should you look for the unfamiliar? That requires looking differently than you have. Expectation in seeing something differently, unique to you, unseen before. That requires taking the time to look at the moments to discover Me.

We tend to look for what we already know or expect to find: it's efficient, comfortable, and familiar. But it also filters out novelty, mystery, and the truly personal encounter with others — and with God. The unfamiliar often is hidden in plain sight within the ordinary moments... waiting for a different kind of gaze.

And that shift in seeing requires intention: slowing down the visual movie, suspending the usual camera lens of interpretation, and choosing to look as if you're seeing for the first time.

In this way expect something unique to you — a revelation tailored to the soul's current season, something literally never noticed or received in quite this way before. This isn't daydreaming: it's beholding.

It takes time because He often speaks or is seen in layers: in the quiet spaces between one breath and the next, between one glance and the next. Rushing past those moments reinforces the old patterns. Lingering becomes an invitation to discovery.

Pick one ordinary moment — a walk, a cup of coffee, the night sky — and look at it with exactly this different intention: no preconceptions, no rush to judge what you see. Just an open expectancy for what is uniquely yours to discover in it.

What begins to appear that wasn't visible before?

"It is the glory of God to conceal things, but the glory of kings is to search things out."

— Proverbs 25.2

Don't assess what you are seeing. Look for Me, and the truth of what you are seeing will be revealed. Step back from what you are seeing and do not judge. You'll find your judgment is perhaps not true, My intent different than your assessment. Ask. Where am I? You see as you have always; now see as I do.

Our usual mode in seeing is to label, categorize, and interpret through our own lenses of fear, expectation, wounding, and cultural conditioning — and in doing so, we often miss the deeper layer where God is present and active.

His invitation is to pause, to step back — and instead make the active choice: "Look for Me". We are not to look for problems, and not to hunt for confirmation of what we already think. We are intentionally to seek His face, His desire, and His goodness that's woven into what we are seeing.

When we do that — when the looking becomes a seeking of Him first — the truth reveals itself naturally. What appeared chaotic, threatening, or even meaningless, begins to be seen as something perhaps far larger and kinder.

• His perspective isn't detached or cold:

it's intimate, purposeful, and healing.

• "My intent different than your assessment":

our sight is often clouded by the "fortress of the mind", by layers of interpretation.

• He sees "what is in truth and what can be in truth," from a perspective of Goodness.

This reorients everything.

The seen becomes a window to the unseen.

The temporary points to the eternal.

It's not just about ignoring the visible, but looking through it with new eyes,

eyes tuned to find Him there.

In the next moment that feels confusing or heavy, try whispering,

"Where are You in this?" and then wait...

and see.

"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

— 2 Corinthians 4.18

You have begun to isolate your tasks into seeing them intently, the doing, the concentration. Now step further into seeing: am I there? Even among the mundane, the repetitive? Do you see Me? If you look deeper your vision will be enhanced, you will see meaning, you will see the unseen, the hoped for, the miraculous. This then becomes true seeing: perhaps nothing you are familiar with, perhaps incomprehensible, questionable. Is it true? You will know by your heart. In the same manner as your hearing. Now spend time seeing. And in the same manner of hearing you will see as I see.

If you look deeper with patience, without rushing to label or judge, your vision begins to expand; meaning begins to emerge and the unseen becomes slowly visible. Hope is seen moving through life's frustration, miracles appear in the monotony of the routine, and God saturates what seems empty.

This "true seeing" isn't forcing our interpretation onto everything. It's more like subtraction: peeling away the habitual filters of fear, boredom, self-protection, and preconception so that the heart can recognize what has always been present.

The heart knows.

The laundry, the traffic, the gray morning — none of these are obstacles to Him; they become the very place He waits to be found. Not despite the repetition, but within it.

Let the eyes rest, not grasping, not assessing — just open, expectant, seeking Him in the 'this'. Over time, the eyes adjust to His way of seeing:

seeing with compassion,

seeing with purpose,

seeing life where we see routine,

seeing the Beginning from the End.

Spend time seeing.

"...The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."

— 1 Samuel 16.7