This thing about eye contact.

Don't just look, see.

Lately, I’ve found myself more intrigued by people’s eyes—not their colour or shape, nor what colour of eye-shadow would look good on them (I wear a couple of hats but MUA💄isn't one of them).

Remember the saying, “eyes are windows to the soul?” I can’t help but wonder—is that why they seem like such dynamic storytellers? Just by looking at someone's eyes, I’ve done some 2+2.

Sometimes, I found myself asking them, “Are you good?” “Is there something on your mind?” It’s almost like their eyes give them away. You think your neighbor is the “amebo?” Let me break it to you: your eyes are even more amebocious (that's not a word)

Think about it. No one smiles, laughs, gets upset, or feels joyful without their eyes participating. They don’t just accompany emotions; they amplify them, offering a glimpse into what someone is truly feeling in a moment.

And maybe that’s why, at times, people avoid eye contact. I know I sometimes do—especially when I’m upset. Even though I’m quite assertive, there have been moments where I couldn't bring myself to look someone in the eye because it might reveal too much.

I realised that our eyes tend to be brighter when we were younger. Is it just me?

But here’s the thing: God makes the greatest eye contact with us. Isn’t He El-Roi, the God who sees? Not just the one who looks, but the one who truly sees. He doesn’t just glance at us; He gazes deeply, past the walls we build and the facades we maintain, into the parts of us we often hide—even from ourselves. He sees us in our joy, our sorrow, our confusion, and even when words fail us.

And maybe that’s why, when it comes to the opposite gender, eyes are something I naturally pay attention to. Not just eyes that are attractive or expressive (though I admit I have a soft spot for those), but eyes that do more than look—they see. The ones that convey attentiveness and depth. Honestly, it’s the balance between the two that captures my heart.

A typical example:

“I can’t take my eyes off you.” (looking)

“But what really gets me is how your kindness shows in the little things you do, like the way you always remember to check in on people.” (seeing)

This balance of looking and seeing reminds me of how Jesus engaged with people. He didn’t just glance at the surface; He looked deeper. He saw the woman at the well, not just as an outcast but as someone in need of truth and living water.

He saw Zacchaeus, not just as the short man hustling for attention, but as someone ready to welcome salvation into his life and home. Jesus saw potential, need, and stories written in spaces words couldn't convey.

Now, when I look into someone’s eyes, I try to see them the way God does. The eyes weighed down by pain might need a listening ear or a simple word of encouragement. The ones lit up with joy might need someone to share in their celebration. And those distant or downcast eyes? They remind me to whisper a prayer, asking God to meet them where they are.

So, here’s my challenge to you: take a moment to truly look into the eyes of those around you. Ask God to help you see what He sees—the potential, the beauty, and the worth He has placed in every soul.

After all, isn’t that what it means to reflect God’s heart? To see others as He sees us—fully known, deeply loved, and worthy still.

Go and do likewise. 💛

Yours in Quality Time,

Adebola🦋.

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Ketchup (In case you missed any):

💌: Here me out >3

Wondering or wandering? I wrote this piece with a heavy heart, but I hope you find it warm enough. Either way, there’s something here for you.

🚍: What stories are hidden in transit?

Transit times are interesting times, aren't they? Starting with my parents’ transit meet-cute over three decades ago, I share a few of my transit experiences as a Nigerian. Enjoy!