Once Upon the Ink

(Being a witness) – an exercise in personification.

Witness slid its bum over and bumped my shoulder with its own again today. Ever since I accidentally made eye-contact with it a week ago or so, it won’t leave me alone. It keeps sidling over, interrupting my meditation, distracting me from the important job of training my gaze on my heart’s door – the one Jesus is supposed to open so we can hang out. Every day is the same. I come to this bench outside, waiting to be let in, and witness shows up instead, annoying me.

We have a long and uncomfortable history, that word and I. Back in my teenage years, it used to hang out with bully-type phrases like “confess your sins (or else)” – and it was always friends with “try harder,” (whom I get exhausted by almost immediately.) It even used to threaten me that Jesus would stop being friends with me if I didn’t give in to its demands. Evangelize! It would yell at me every time I got scared of “non-Christians”.

So I’ve been side-eyeing witness with a lot of skepticism, edging away every time it scoots closer.

The problem is that it kinda blew my mind a bit when it showed up on my bench.

There I was, minding my own business, fretting my little Winnie-the-Pooh brain full of fluff over all the shoulds and should-nots piling up in front of me like usual because I was convinced Jesus was playing hide and seek from me until…

poof… someone shoved a gorgeous photo of sunlight streaming over hills and valleys, right in front of my nose…

And as my eyes seriously goggled and stared at this picture of extreme beauty (some of God’s secret magic disguised as just an ordinary day – the kind that I love discovering) –

– as I soaked it in and couldn’t stop going back over the photo, marveling over how this light stream hit that branch, at the golden glow of moss on the trunk here, the cool shadows there… it was like sipping on something nourishing you’ll never be able to get enough of.

I realized it was witness that was waving this photo in my face. And that witness was grinning in delight at how I stared, practically bouncing in excitement for me to see this thing of divine mastery. God’s incredible artistry.

Witness couldn’t wait to share it with me. And then all witness wanted me to do was look at the beauty. Really see that photo for the marvel it was. All witness cared about was paying attention.

And this little, brilliant, attitude of witness stuck in my craw. Because it wasn’t trying to make me feel guilty. It wasn’t trying to blackmail me. And now I felt snobby that I didn’t like it very much.

And because, suddenly, I realized that Holy Spirit was being sneaky again. Sending witness over to my bench until I recognized her presence – and that she had an actual friendship with this word I didn’t think I liked.

And I couldn’t really ignore Holy Spirit when attention came tumbling along with witness waving its arms exuberantly.

(Never mind that Holy Spirit tends to be quiet but also stubbornly persistent until I give in and pay attention to her smoke signals and silent hand gestures.)

I couldn’t ignore Spirit’s presence because of Simone Weil and what she taught me about attention. She says these three things about attention:

• Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.

• Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer.

• Every time we truly pay attention, we destroy evil in ourselves.

She also says this, “God only comes to those who ask God to come – those who ask often, for a long time and ardently. God cannot prevent himself from coming to them.”

Sigh. If that doesn’t make your heart melt – the “cannot prevent himself” part…

So after a bit of grumbling and a lot of reminding witness what it used to do to me back in my teenage years, I looked at that little word that was all snuggled up to my side as if we were besties.

Now that we’ve been hanging out for a bit without all that misunderstanding between us, I can tell you it’s quite a beautiful, luminescent little word, actually. Kinda like a kid. Kinda like wonder too.

Because it’s always pointing at something or someone it can’t believe exists. What you end up paying attention to with witness becomes a piece of beauty and truth knit right onto your soul – transcribing itself into some kind of presence that fills up all the hungry and thirsty places inside your heart.

And so I watched where witness pointed and we stared at a tiny, flying insect creature passing by my nose full of bright blue fluff and soft white wings. And then witness woke me up in the middle of the night and we listened to a whale slapping its tail and calling out in a way I’d never heard before.

It seems like witness is always waiting for me to look at something I thought was old but is really new.

The funny thing is that witness doesn’t feel grumpy, demanding or needy at all. Witness is the kind of word that pulls you out of yourself by a natural, spiritual osmosis. Invites you into something magical and bigger than you think possible.

It’s probably the most unselfish word I can think of – and that unselfishness is so non-abusive. Because whatever witness is paying attention to is captivating.

After I started noticing witness I realized that sharing whatever witness was showing me was pretty hard to resist. You can’t help but want to share something beautiful with whoever’s sitting next to you. There’s no should there. No have-to. Just a desire for someone else to see what or who you’re looking at.

Witness’ favourite things to pay attention to are God’s handiwork – the crafted landscapes and the symphony of crickets… and pretty much anything that comes from that Love character. Meaning every created thing and being. And everywhere witness looks, wonder follows. Compassion too.

I have a feeling being friends with witness can be hard too though; I know witness watches the pain. It doesn’t ignore the sad places. It walks through dark places in order to be company and call for aid. I could write more about that – how being compassionate comes more easily with witness walking in the darkest spots. But today is about the sunshine.

And that’s when I realize, that Jesus loves witness too. Lots of times witness grabs Jesus’ arm and points at me and you – we’re some of the unique, captivating beings that Jesus and witness like to pay attention to. Get captivated by and fall in wonder over.

Thank goodness.