Gazing into His face

In his fascinating book, Scattered Minds, Gabor Maté tells of experiments that show how important eye contact with their mother is to the developing brains of small children. He says that when mom and babe are gazing at each other, the baby becomes very excited and at times must look away. After a moment of relief from this overjoyed state during such intense eye contact, the baby then can look back into mother’s eyes.

This is a common phenomenon that is easily observed. However, there is more to it. In this situation, if the mother looks away first, the baby becomes troubled and enters a state of distress. Maté goes on to illustrate that when this attachment to mother is constantly hindered, the baby’s right frontal brain lobe does not develop as it should. The result is attention deficit disorders or ADD. He adds that those who experience brain injuries in that same lobe will exhibit symptoms like those of ADD.

I’ve written about this before, but today while reading the Psalms, I noticed again some verses that mention eye-contact. One in particular seems to connect the missing of this attachment on that mother-baby level to experiencing it with God.

In Psalm 27:10, David says, “When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take care of me.”

I used to think this verse applied to abused or abandoned children and often showed it to those in such situations. I’d not applied it to myself because my parents had not ever forsaken their care and support for me. However, after reading Maté’s book and seeing myself described on almost every page, I also realized that I could not remember ever experiencing eye contact with my mother. I’m not sure why. Perhaps she had problems unknown to me, or had ADD herself. I’ve no resentment about it. Mom loved me and sacrificed herself for me, but for some reason, this connection was missing.

Before verse 10, the psalmist says to God, “My heart says of you, ‘Seek his face!’ Your face, Lord, I will seek. Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; You have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, O God my Savior.”

The psalmist knew the value of intimate connection to God. Again in Psalm 143:7 he says, “Answer me speedily, O Lord; my spirit fails! Do not hide Your face from me, lest I be like those who go down into the pit.” Perhaps he also missed this connection with his parents and therefore wrote Psalm 27:10 for those of us who feel that same sense of loss.

Yesterday, a dear friend talked about missing this in her own life. She described it as that mothering she didn’t have, that face-to-face link that eludes us. I mentioned verse 10, yet as my friend says, we want that connection to “have skin on,” to be from someone visible.

Later I thought how each promise God makes can take time to realize or experience, so much so that His solution can seem incomplete, ethereal, not concrete enough in this world that we experience with our five senses. Yet as I read Psalm 27, this promise of verse 10 stands.

Today, on this last day of 2007 as I’m prone to reflect on all that has happened in the past 365 days, I am deeply aware that God has made this a reality for me. Somehow, in the last few months, He has made looking into His face enough. That empty space is filled and I am so grateful that I can hardly express it.

Certainly He allows me to look away, for like a babe, I cannot bear the delight of that continual gaze. However, if I look away to sin, like the psalmist I find that He hides His face, at least for a moment, and I am deeply troubled. Yet like the psalmist also, when I seek His face He hears and responds to my cries.

In great mercy, God has clarified to me, finally, that His face is enough. Jesus—God with skin on—is sufficient. My inner ache is gone and I simply praise Him for His grace and goodness in giving me this as a grand finale for another year in His care.