The eyes of the LORD are in every place, keeping watch on the evil and the good.

Proverbs 15:3

Sometimes His eyes simply observe what you do in the dark, secret places. Sometimes His eyes take the form of strangers watching your response to children throwing fits in the store. Sometimes His eyes take the form of your children watching your response to unexpected and unwanted information you just received. Sometimes His eyes take the form of your coworkers watching your response to a difficult client. Sometimes His eyes take the form of friends watching you on the side of the road.

She told my husband what I did. At church. His response, “That’s where the watermelon and peanut butter went.” And I was reminded, again, that nothing I do remains a secret. Especially when the act occurs off the interstate exit 181 at the top of Sedillo Hill.

Thankfully, my husband knows my heart. Knows me. I just came from a successful haul from Costco. I was anxious to get home and unload our delicious loot. When I chanced to look across Route 66 while my blinker was letting the motorists behind me of my intention to turn left. I saw a family, with momma pregnant. They held a sign and the car hood was up. I drove across the road, got out, and asked what they needed. I gave them bread, meat, cheese, peanut butter, a watermelon, and who knows what else. I just kept diving in the back of the SUV and dishing out something else.

Perhaps it was selfish on my part, the momma was expecting and I know what that is like. I know that pregnancy carries more than a precious new life. I know the struggles of trying to get pregnant. How each month is a mountain to climb with its new tears to shed. I know the struggles of an unexpected pregnancy. Mine has his provisional license and now carries me home from the store. I know what it is like to grow a new life while trying to take care of the big sister. And you are never sure you are giving enough love to each new life you bring into the world. I know the struggles of being pregnant and wondering if there will be enough food for everyone. If the money will last and we can buy the new baby a nice car seat. I know the struggles of being pregnant, again. And all the head wagging and all the whispering. And no, we didn’t watch TV much. Still don’t.

So, it was for her, pregnant momma, that I stopped. And got all the food that they would let me give them. While her little boy was watching sheepishly by the truck.

I wasn’t sure how to tell my husband that his hard-earned money went to some family on the side of the road off exit 181 at the top of Sedillo Hill. I didn’t need to worry. For the five or ten minutes I was there, the traffic was nonstop off the interstate. Some turned left, some right on Route 66. All watched as I dove deeper into the back of my SUV pulling out more food. One passerby, a dear friend of ours, was the one to let my husband know what I was doing with his hard-earned money.

I suppose I was aware of the looks, but it was rush hour traffic with people thinking of that after work drink or time with their kids and spouse or a dinner with friends. Maybe some were going home to a dark, quiet place where children have long since grown and that life long partner only lasted one lifetime. I shove the organic, all natural, crunchy peanut butter in the father’s hands. They needed it more than I did. Life is too short to not have the best peanut butter.

Diving one more time, I bring out the watermelon and shove it in their hands. They tried not to take it, but I insisted. They let me know that they had no intention of taking all my Costco booty. Didn’t I have a family who were needing that food? Yea. My husband was at band practice at church. The boys were home most likely jumping on the couch and ignoring laundry and dishes. But it would be just as likely that the laundry was used a prop while they were doing their jumping game on our couch. They’ll be upset that I got rid of the watermelon and peanut butter, but totally ok with any vegetables.

Leaving the family on the side of the road with food and no money to get gas, I did feel like I didn’t help that much. I gave food because that was all I had, but they wanted to get down the road to go to their home in the next state that the interstate would take them.

I took Route 66 to my home. The boys put away what food I didn’t give to the family. I found socks hanging off the silent TV and the one hardy plant. My husband came home and hugged me. Apparently, he enjoys doing life with this woman who gives away his watermelon and peanut butter.

This memory wasn’t meant to give you the impression that I am holy in any way or that I am a selfless giver of what I hold. No. It was a reminder that people are watching you, watching me. When I do well, it is nice to hear about that and be applauded. Yet, that is rare. Most of your friends don’t know what you do on the side of the road off the interstate. But strangers do. Your children do. And God certainly does.

Eyes see you in your good.

I could easily give a story of where I lost my ever-loving mind when I felt slighted by the rude woman at the Moriarity MVD. I’d like to say it was only one time. But in truth, it was two… no, not two times, not three times… well, if I am honest, enough times for the Moriarity MVD to have a picture of this angry redheaded woman hanging behind their plexiglass. I am not allowed to go back. I know that eyes see my temper when I fall apart. And poor state workers feel the wrath of this vengeful redheaded woman.

The last time I left the Moriarity MVD, I screamed profanities and my hatred of the establishment. In the midst of my tantrum I ran headlong into an elderly gentleman who knew my family. He took my older two boys flying in an single engine Cessna. Though he agreed with my sentiment, I did nothing to grow relationships. In fact, I harmed my relationships with strangers and kind people who saw my character deeply flawed. Who saw my evil.

Eyes see you in your evil.

I could easily give a story of where my brokenness overwhelms my need to present myself whole and strong. I knows eyes see my tears when I come to the end of all reason and control. I know eyes see those moments I wish I never lived through.

Eyes see you in your brokenness.

These eyes take many forms and see through many faces. These eyes that notice and watch always take note. Some eyes will evaluate. Some eyes will empathize. Some eyes will emulate.

My husband has this picture of our son hanging in his law office reception area. It is a picture of my little boy taking a picture while leaning against a tree. I remember that day, thinking I was alone in this creation to just be me in my good, in my evil, in my broken. But there was my little shadow following me with a small camera. While I was absorbed taking pictures of the small, of a leaf or rock or curious chipmunk, he was taking pictures of me unaware of his presence. I chanced to turn and saw him. The photo I took of him is a reminder that eyes, in particular, my children’s eyes are always watching and learning and imitating what I do.

It was and is a sobering thought. The eyes are in every place. Ever present.

The eyes of God keep watch on the evil and the good, but what we don’t understand is that this isn’t “evil” people vs “good” people. This is me when I act in my evil, sinful ways. It is me when I act in my good, gracious ways. It is me even when I act in my brokenness. God sees me, naked and exposed body, mind, and soul.

God sees you, naked and exposed body, mind, soul.

Seneca, a Stoic Philosopher, says, “We remove most sins if we have a witness standing by as we are about to go wrong. The soul should have someone it can respect, by whose example it can make its inner sanctum more inviolable.” Though we may not acknowledge or accept, we all have this witness standing by watching our evil and our good and our brokenness. The eyes of God are in every place, true. The eyes of God are abounding with GRACE.

When we do evil, we harm relationships. When we do good, we strengthen relationships. Lest we lose sight of this, remember, life is always and only about relationships. And that the eyes are watching you in your good and in your evil and in your brokenness.

We are the eyes watching others in their good and in their evil and in their brokenness.

May we walk humbly, love grace, and act justly for all the eyes watching, for our eyes seeing, and for His eyes observing.