New lenses – That poem I read at church last Sunday

Out beyond this ordinary day,
deep inside this ordinary day,
nothing looks the same.
I am looking at the world through unfamiliar eyes.
Nearly blinded by the intensity of what I see,
I deep crashing into
dangerous hope,
audacious dreams,
fearless love.

I’ve risked it all before.
I’ve lost it all before.
I’ve become the safe one,
the one who wants proof.
I’ve become the speaker
of the pessimistic truth.

But now my hands don’t seem like mine,
my words don’t sound like me.
I deep running toward a vision when I’m no visionary.

It’s as if Christ donated His own eyes to me.
Though I still can’t see very far ahead,
what I do see, when I dare look, is
in color,
with sharp clarity,
with truth perspective,
and in those moments nothing looks like I’m comfortable seeing it.

Christ is the seers
of sin undone,
of broken hearts mended,
of dead dreams resurrected,
of emptiness filled
of all things made new.
And He fills my eyes with His
dangerous hope,
audacious dreams,
and fearless love.

I am looking at the world through unfamiliar eyes,
and yet,
He has made them mine.