They do not perceive the Lord's actions,

and they do not see the work of his hands.

Isaiah 5:12

I haven't seen a whole lot of anything in the past three days.  Broken glasses on a weekend morning on the other side of the state means no insurance information, no help from company call trees, and no chance of fixing anything until Monday afternoon. 

I've wandered through a blurry fog of formless colors and bloated lights.  I've stumbled through a day of work, my nose almost touching the board to decipher my own notes, while giggling teenagers wave their hands and ask me how many fingers they're holding up.  I chose to ignore the implications of that one.

I wonder how often I stumble around with glasses securely on, believing I'm seeing it all.  Where is the touch of God all around me, where is the work of his hands?  Do I miss it, ignore it, or assign it another source?  Where are the glasses that will let me see everything that really matters.