Eyes Open

“Will you close your eyes?” is a question our daughter asks that usually precedes something she just knows will surprise us. Frankly with as much of life behind us now there isn’t too much she can pull off that comes as a true surprise. Still, she can be persistent for her age. And, for at least me, at my age, I’m usually not too combative about playing along.

That doesn’t mean though that I always like being asked to close my eyes so I can wait for Hannah to reveal she has drawn a heart on her hand in permanent marker. Sometimes her request just comes at a bad time. Perhaps, we need to be getting ready to go somewhere and time is speedily ticking away from us. Sometimes, her request is to put off something she needs to do such as homework or chores. Other times, the request comes at a time when I am frustrated by some of the things just listed or other things. When I am at this place, the request for me to close my eyes usually leads me to sigh deeply or reply in a deadpan manner with a question of my own, “really?”

Most of us understand this dynamic. As a parent there is this push-and-pull between responsibility and the notion that not everything should be taken so seriously. I don’t know where to locate that balance. I step around lightly hoping I can find some sure footing but I usually end up just taking a deep breath and moving forward in faith.

Recently, I promised Hannah we would take some time outside with sidewalk chalk. On a late, warm afternoon we went outside to use the chalk on our driveway. Eager to show off her artistic ability, and probably at some deeper level hoping to make me happy, she said she was going to work on one drawing by herself. As she began working, I was told to close my eyes. And, of course, I sighed before offering a protest. I knew the artwork would take several minutes. I feared closing my eyes might make me even more sleepy. I also just didn’t like the idea of standing in my driveway with my eyes closed while the neighbors peered out of nearby windows or drove up and down the street. I told her I would just look another way until she told me I could look. Of course, I knew this way out provided me a chance to whittle the time away with some time-wasting activity such as looking at my phone.

As I waited I thought how silly it was to argue against closing my eyes. Why can’t she understand I could do something more useful than just close my eyes. As I thought more I realized any time I gained by keeping my eyes open would probably be wasted on checking email or Facebook and not solving the problems of the world. When that dawned on me, I closed my eyes.

Soon enough, I heard her familiar voice asking me to look at her creative masterpiece. I stood there admiring her talent. I then came to realize how I should close my eyes more often when she asks because on this day, when I closed my eyes I found myself thanking God for our daughter and the things she brings into life, like wonder, love, laughter and other good things that are needed along life's way. That lesson seemed to be much more important than thinking my time is more useful in any other way. I guess sometimes you have to close your eyes so that they can really be opened.