Have you ever had a young child, grandchild, niece or nephew, sit on your knee and unashamedly, closely\u00a0inspect your face, kneading you like a piece of play dough? This is written for you.<\/p>\n
Suppose I’m on fire with rage, smouldering with resentment, awash with satisfaction, bubbling with hap-hap- happiness or just horizontally laid back, floating above all emotions.<\/p>\n
How much of it can I stop from showing on my face?<\/p>\n
St Paul said we could reflect God’s glory on our face–even better than Moses did. (2 Corinthians ch 3 v 12-18). Perhaps he was speaking figuratively at least in part. But a lifetime of resentment and frustration can surely leave it’s real marks on people’s faces. There are unfortunately such things as habitual expressions. Perhaps a lifetime of the fruit of the Spirit can show as well.<\/p>\n
What, despite all our efforts at pretence, do our faces say to those judges which are more difficult to fool than most others–the eyes of a child.<\/p>\n
Read this slowly and you need to read it out loud:<\/p>\n
Face Time<\/strong><\/p>\n Your infant eyes, diamond bright, You then send in a surface probe.
\nSteel grey, ice white
\nGifts of grace,
\nSet in the soft perfection
\nOf a cherub’s face,
\nInnocent, intense, intent,
\nOrbiting in-close, planet Grandpa’s Head,
\nMesmerised they scrutinise
\nThe landscape of my face.
\nAre there signals for your guidance,
\nAny words from my story
\nThat read themselves to you
\nUnwitting reader, through your survey,
\nAnd despite my silence?
\nWhat have I laid down in my geology?
\nA fissured perma-frown of discontent,
\nOr smooth plains of sweet apology?
\nWhat has been the chief creator
\nOf my surface?
\nWhat, the dominator,
\nFlesh’s fires’ volcanic rages,
\nSpirit’s rain, reigned down my ages?
\nData’s there, my life’s arranged it.
\nIs there yet the time to change it?<\/p>\n
\nSmall fingers on an arm,
\nSeeking more than eyes can tell,
\nInvestigate a lobe.
\n“Grandpa you’re so squidgy!”
\nAnd so you break the spell.<\/p>\n