That was beautiful! One idea I resonated with is why we want to see more closely and truly is to LOVE THIS OLD PLACE LIKE JESUS DOES! I was grounded into a purpose beyond just trying to see, but you love and to know as he does. I used to hug a large globe in bible club to show Jesus's loving our world. His words reminded me of this purpose.
I was born in 55 and yes, then, 3 channels on a very small black and white TV. It was for me not much of an attraction. I appreciate his words of wisdom about all techy stuff, even continual listening to amazing podcasts, this buying more books! Quietness outside is such a lavish gift! Walks in silence are necessities!
My "own eyes"were given up early due to terror and I vowed as a little girl to never see anything on my own, never say no to anyone, and if I thought I could see, to know it was probably wrong. I'm trying to break that vow now and see as Lori, even realizing I cannot hear his voice apart from trusting my own perception.
I enjoy remembering times I felt alive and vibrant as a child and they were always in beholding beauty of some kind, Coquina shells made into art in Sanibel island once, seeing what a crenoline slip did to my friends dress, eating cake, , hearing rhythm in A Fly Went By, seeing y first Mountain ever, dancing to White Rabbit, kissing my A Little Princess book...each of these tiny experiences remind me I've not changed one bit. That helps remind me to see as myself and fuels such delight! Also, without seeing as me I can't hear his voice as his sheep. How will I hear his special call for me if I'm not me, or trying to be all the "y'alls everywhere" taunt me into being. Weaknesses are the best for helping remind me of who I am. And trying to draw anything ( I'm not an artist) but sometimes try to be one, or writing too, demands such quiet pondering and looking.. Remembering who this little girl still is, even in her old body, is a habit of loving that demands the sight you're speaking about, seeking to see with love, not in order to shame.
This whole letter resonated so much, and gave me the gift of words around a thought I've not been able to put words to (anyone else have thoughts like those?). This quote in particular:
"Long before a creation is finished, the artist has gained for himself another and more intimate achievement: a deeper and more receptive vision, a more intense awareness, a sharper and more discerning understanding, a more patient openness for all things quiet and inconspicuous, an eye for the things previously overlooked."
...It leaves me with such deep gratitude. For the way God calls us not just to produce something, but to awaken something in us in the process, to usher us closer to Him in the journey. I do not see the world the same as I did seven years ago, and I imagine that seven years hence, I'll see it differently than I do now...a thought that brings so much wonder. In essence it's this, from Job, after the writer has gone on for chapters upon chapters about the fathomless wonder of this world:
"And these are but the outer fringe of his works; how faint the whisper we hear of him! Who then can understand the thunder of his power?” (Job 26:14)
Sep 12, 2023·edited Sep 12, 2023Liked by Jonathan Rogers
Wow. Yes, I really, really liked this week’s letter, as well. It spoke deeply into my soul in ways I can’t even fully process, yet. These words from Job are so stirring… and I have come to appreciate them on such a deeper level than before. As you said, I see the world so differently than I did seven years ago. There are so many layers I have begun to dig into. According to Chesterton (‘s view of Job: “The Man Who Was Thursday”)- “we have only known the back of the world…” How incredibly true! With all our “seeing” we are never fully “perceiving.” Our finite “seeing” is so insufficient for all of the depths of reality the Creator has hidden, awaiting our discovery.
I am absolutely terrible at seeing things. I will all too frequently walk by the obvious and completely miss it - my husband once installed a ceiling fan in my house while I was away, and I didn’t notice it at all until he said something...despite the fact that it was ON. We laugh about it, but it bothers me that I am so oblivious to a large percentage of what’s right in front of me. And of what I do see, it’s what’s wrong that always tends to stand out most starkly. It’s really a struggle I need to work on, and I know the deliberate slowness of art is the answer (or one answer, at least). Thanks for this, Jonathan.
I had a poetry professor in college who, after reading a poem out loud in class, would shout, "Quick! What is your visceral reaction?" He said it so much that it became a joke between all of us English majors, but the phrase stuck with me. He was essentially asking how we received the poem, before we could take it through all the filters of how we thought we should respond. I like thinking about my response to Reality as an act of receiving it-- to "think about it, care about it, make connections..." Not just as God's own thoughts, but as His own thoughts intersecting with me: in a particular moment in time and in a particular place. Just this morning I read Mary Oliver's "The Place I Want to Get Back To" I love the lines:
"I have gone every day to the same woods,
not waiting, exactly, just lingering.
Such gifts, bestowed,
can’t be repeated."
(She would probably argue with your assumption that animals can't take in a whole lot of the world.)
Also, Google Reviews make it hard for me to see with my own eyes! We went tubing down a river in North Georgia for Labor Day, and for some reason I felt the need to read the Google Reviews before we went. Why?!
Yes- doesn’t the whole internet and social media have this effect? But isn’t this along the same lines of what Lewis wrote about 60 years ago- this forcing ourselves into the mold of another in our “seeing?” Reading a book simply because it is “supposed to be a classic” or some other reason based on what popular opinion says- rather than for our own personal enrichment because we simply enjoy it, and see and feel beauty and truth in it.
Love that idea of looking at a reaction before running it through filters of what we think it's "supposed" to be, Elizabeth! Also, I've been reading Mary Oliver in the mornings, too. She did have such a way of seeing things.
This part stood out to me. "The mere attempt, therefore, to create an artistic form compels the artists to take a fresh look at the visible reality; it requires authentic and personal observation." Even in little things this is true!
I recently needed to create the silhouette of a feather and found that the leaf and feather were quite similar. I actually had to figure out some differences to be sure I had the right silhouette 😂 Still, it did make me pay more attention to something I thought I knew quite well. The same is true in writing when trying to explain a character's emotion, face expression, or reaction. You have to really think through that you've seen it what would make sense based on your own observations of people or yourself.
I feel this way about my writing. I can’t seem to see any of the issues other eyes can notice. It looks “fine” to me, perhaps creative and playful when I put something unconventional in the story, but then someone shows me the reality of it, that my little quirk didn’t really do much except trip the reader onto their face, and then of course I can see it all plainly. I think, “well of course that doesn’t work. Why exactly did I think that’d work?”
Also this reminds me of a time when I was about 7 and the neighborhood grandma crocheted me some sort of large white doily and left it outside on my windowsill. That thing sat there for weeks. I saw it every day, but for reasons still beyond my comprehension, I never “saw” it as something that wasn’t supposed to be there.
That was beautiful! One idea I resonated with is why we want to see more closely and truly is to LOVE THIS OLD PLACE LIKE JESUS DOES! I was grounded into a purpose beyond just trying to see, but you love and to know as he does. I used to hug a large globe in bible club to show Jesus's loving our world. His words reminded me of this purpose.
I was born in 55 and yes, then, 3 channels on a very small black and white TV. It was for me not much of an attraction. I appreciate his words of wisdom about all techy stuff, even continual listening to amazing podcasts, this buying more books! Quietness outside is such a lavish gift! Walks in silence are necessities!
My "own eyes"were given up early due to terror and I vowed as a little girl to never see anything on my own, never say no to anyone, and if I thought I could see, to know it was probably wrong. I'm trying to break that vow now and see as Lori, even realizing I cannot hear his voice apart from trusting my own perception.
I enjoy remembering times I felt alive and vibrant as a child and they were always in beholding beauty of some kind, Coquina shells made into art in Sanibel island once, seeing what a crenoline slip did to my friends dress, eating cake, , hearing rhythm in A Fly Went By, seeing y first Mountain ever, dancing to White Rabbit, kissing my A Little Princess book...each of these tiny experiences remind me I've not changed one bit. That helps remind me to see as myself and fuels such delight! Also, without seeing as me I can't hear his voice as his sheep. How will I hear his special call for me if I'm not me, or trying to be all the "y'alls everywhere" taunt me into being. Weaknesses are the best for helping remind me of who I am. And trying to draw anything ( I'm not an artist) but sometimes try to be one, or writing too, demands such quiet pondering and looking.. Remembering who this little girl still is, even in her old body, is a habit of loving that demands the sight you're speaking about, seeking to see with love, not in order to shame.
This whole letter resonated so much, and gave me the gift of words around a thought I've not been able to put words to (anyone else have thoughts like those?). This quote in particular:
"Long before a creation is finished, the artist has gained for himself another and more intimate achievement: a deeper and more receptive vision, a more intense awareness, a sharper and more discerning understanding, a more patient openness for all things quiet and inconspicuous, an eye for the things previously overlooked."
...It leaves me with such deep gratitude. For the way God calls us not just to produce something, but to awaken something in us in the process, to usher us closer to Him in the journey. I do not see the world the same as I did seven years ago, and I imagine that seven years hence, I'll see it differently than I do now...a thought that brings so much wonder. In essence it's this, from Job, after the writer has gone on for chapters upon chapters about the fathomless wonder of this world:
"And these are but the outer fringe of his works; how faint the whisper we hear of him! Who then can understand the thunder of his power?” (Job 26:14)
Wow. Yes, I really, really liked this week’s letter, as well. It spoke deeply into my soul in ways I can’t even fully process, yet. These words from Job are so stirring… and I have come to appreciate them on such a deeper level than before. As you said, I see the world so differently than I did seven years ago. There are so many layers I have begun to dig into. According to Chesterton (‘s view of Job: “The Man Who Was Thursday”)- “we have only known the back of the world…” How incredibly true! With all our “seeing” we are never fully “perceiving.” Our finite “seeing” is so insufficient for all of the depths of reality the Creator has hidden, awaiting our discovery.
I am absolutely terrible at seeing things. I will all too frequently walk by the obvious and completely miss it - my husband once installed a ceiling fan in my house while I was away, and I didn’t notice it at all until he said something...despite the fact that it was ON. We laugh about it, but it bothers me that I am so oblivious to a large percentage of what’s right in front of me. And of what I do see, it’s what’s wrong that always tends to stand out most starkly. It’s really a struggle I need to work on, and I know the deliberate slowness of art is the answer (or one answer, at least). Thanks for this, Jonathan.
I had a poetry professor in college who, after reading a poem out loud in class, would shout, "Quick! What is your visceral reaction?" He said it so much that it became a joke between all of us English majors, but the phrase stuck with me. He was essentially asking how we received the poem, before we could take it through all the filters of how we thought we should respond. I like thinking about my response to Reality as an act of receiving it-- to "think about it, care about it, make connections..." Not just as God's own thoughts, but as His own thoughts intersecting with me: in a particular moment in time and in a particular place. Just this morning I read Mary Oliver's "The Place I Want to Get Back To" I love the lines:
"I have gone every day to the same woods,
not waiting, exactly, just lingering.
Such gifts, bestowed,
can’t be repeated."
(She would probably argue with your assumption that animals can't take in a whole lot of the world.)
Also, Google Reviews make it hard for me to see with my own eyes! We went tubing down a river in North Georgia for Labor Day, and for some reason I felt the need to read the Google Reviews before we went. Why?!
Yes- doesn’t the whole internet and social media have this effect? But isn’t this along the same lines of what Lewis wrote about 60 years ago- this forcing ourselves into the mold of another in our “seeing?” Reading a book simply because it is “supposed to be a classic” or some other reason based on what popular opinion says- rather than for our own personal enrichment because we simply enjoy it, and see and feel beauty and truth in it.
Love that idea of looking at a reaction before running it through filters of what we think it's "supposed" to be, Elizabeth! Also, I've been reading Mary Oliver in the mornings, too. She did have such a way of seeing things.
This part stood out to me. "The mere attempt, therefore, to create an artistic form compels the artists to take a fresh look at the visible reality; it requires authentic and personal observation." Even in little things this is true!
I recently needed to create the silhouette of a feather and found that the leaf and feather were quite similar. I actually had to figure out some differences to be sure I had the right silhouette 😂 Still, it did make me pay more attention to something I thought I knew quite well. The same is true in writing when trying to explain a character's emotion, face expression, or reaction. You have to really think through that you've seen it what would make sense based on your own observations of people or yourself.
Anyway, thank you for sharing this!
I feel this way about my writing. I can’t seem to see any of the issues other eyes can notice. It looks “fine” to me, perhaps creative and playful when I put something unconventional in the story, but then someone shows me the reality of it, that my little quirk didn’t really do much except trip the reader onto their face, and then of course I can see it all plainly. I think, “well of course that doesn’t work. Why exactly did I think that’d work?”
Also this reminds me of a time when I was about 7 and the neighborhood grandma crocheted me some sort of large white doily and left it outside on my windowsill. That thing sat there for weeks. I saw it every day, but for reasons still beyond my comprehension, I never “saw” it as something that wasn’t supposed to be there.