I felt like I was experiencing an Emily Dickinson moment. The eight year old little girl in my reading group said, "I am invisible in my other class." "I am invisible!" She kept repeating it. I cried invisibly when she said it. It reminded me of how I felt when another little eight year old, only that time a boy, told me years ago that his teacher didn't like little boys.
“The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible”
We are all in so many ways "clamoring to become visible". Yes, we are clamoring to see the invisible and know the invisible. It is as though many invisible things are longing for visibility. We look forward to a time when the secrets and full knowledge of God will become visible and clear. In the meantime, we cannot forget to notice the needy, the imperfect, the poor, the voiceless, the widows, the fatherless: the invisible in our midst.
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