I see my children.

I saw our daughter Rylie standing rather suspiciously in the kitchen just the other day. The hand behind her back held an oatmeal cream pie with a bite missing.

Every morning I give my children a look-over. I check the boy, Hayden, for hair bumps that often arise when he lies on wet hair after his morning shower.

I see the eye makeup that our preteen Hallie is hoping I won't notice.
I am the Mom who sees.

Not only do I see my children in a gotcha sort of way,

I also see when one of them exits school with shoulders slumped slightly because it hasn't been the best day.
I watch, in adoration as Hayden and Hallie laugh in unison at a YouTube video-a beautiful sight.
I look.

I watch and I see.

Or so I'd like to think.  My kids have thrown me for a loop more than once in the past few days.
One rather long day this week I kissed my seven-year old, already in bed, goodnight, saving her bath for the morning. I noticed the next morning as she crawled out of bed that she slept in her school clothes (I probably shouldn't be telling that).
I found out another one of my children had a rough spell with a close friend months ago. How could I have missed that?

I took Rylie to the ophthalmologist this week to find out she needs glasses and an eyepatch-I was blind to her bad vision, Oh the irony. There were signs, for crying out loud.

Sometimes I blink and I miss things.

Other times there are blurry things; things foreign, unfamiliar.  

And if I'm really honest, I'd say there are times I see things which make me want to cover my eyes; things I wish I didn't have to see.

But I can rest assured in El Roi; the God who sees.

He's the God who saw Hagar in the desert when she was otherwise abandoned.

He is the one mentioned in Psalm:

3 You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways. Psalm 139:3

He sees.

Everything.

 Tears cried,

and that bad grade

 you didn't know about

that made its way to the garbage,

how your son held the door open

for the woman who could only move slowly,

 and your daughter's integrity

 in that difficult trial last week.

He knows what's under their bed.

There are no surprises.

No blinking or looking off.

He doesn't miss a thing.

He sees.

That spells b-l-e-s-s-e-d   r-e-l-i-e-f to these eyes.