My eyes can show me a face, an expression, a moment unfolding. But they cannot tell me the whole truth of the person before me. So often, I fill in what I cannot see with stories I have carried for years.

Today’s lesson invites me to pause within that habit. Christ’s vision is offered as a gift, and I can begin by leaving a little room for it.

I don’t have to understand everything before I become willing. I can bring my assumptions, my certainty, and my unanswered questions to God. I can allow another person to be more than the moment in which I encountered them. I can offer myself that same spaciousness.

In today’s prayer song, “Let the quiet of today bless our hearts” becomes a gentle returning place. Quiet can accompany us into conversation, into necessary boundaries, into the ordinary work of being together. We can listen from there. We can speak from there.

Perhaps a forgiven world begins to become visible in these small openings: a judgment loosens, a familiar story loses its grip, someone feels less like a stranger.

Father, I bring You what I think I know. Let Your peace make room for something more.