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Buckeyes ripen inside their protective shells.

Don’t look now, but the woods are full of eyes.

When I roam the October forests, there’s no escaping them.  I climb the hills, and the eyes peer from behind bushes.  I stroll along the rivers, and the eyes are glimmering through the trees.  I plunge into the thickets, and the eyes are staring from the shadows.  

This might sound alarming, but it doesn’t cause me to fear—because I know the “eyes” aren’t spies documenting my every move or wild animals with sinister intents.  In fact, they’re not truly eyes at all.  They’re a kind of seed called buckeyes—a hallmark of fall in Arkansas.  

You may already be quite familiar with buckeyes if you live in the Midwest, especially in Ohio, where buckeyes inspired the state nickname, the state flag, and even the state sports mascot!  But many people don’t realize that Arkansas has plenty of buckeye trees as well.  And this season is their time to shine.

The trees themselves are less than impressive—slender and short, with fragile-appearing limbs. However, they’re still incredibly lovely.  Their lush foliage is a particularly elegant shade of green, their spiky flowers are a stunning scarlet, and their namesake seeds are amazingly unique.  All during the growing season, each buckeye seed slowly developed within a protective husk.  But now, those soft brown husks are withering, revealing the mature buckeye inside.  

Each buckeye seed is actually a hard case containing anywhere from one to three embryonic trees.  The buckeyes are slightly smaller than a golf ball and not quite as spherical, with a lovely brown, glossy sheen that gives them the appearance of polished wood, and a round white spot on one side.  It’s this spot that inspired their name—to Native Americans, they resembled the glistening eyes of deer peering from the undergrowth.  

Every part of the buckeye tree—leaves, branches, and the seeds themselves—is highly toxic; in fact, it is said that the only animals that can safely consume raw buckeyes are squirrels.  (I have never seen any animal gnawing on a buckeye, so this may be a myth.)   However, these trees still boast a variety of surprising uses.  Roasting the buckeyes will negate their poisonous components and render them not only edible but highly nutritious; indigenous peoples used buckeyes extensively as a protein-rich food source known as hetuck and as a medicine for injuries and inflammation, digestive troubles, and even cerebrospinal and hormonal afflictions.  The acid from the nuts was used in leatherworking, and the dried seeds were incorporated into jewelry.  The wood itself is in high demand as well; in pioneer days, its light weight made it a good candidate for utensils, hats, and baskets, and today, that same property makes it the wood of choice for artificial limbs.  

But perhaps the greatest value of buckeyes isn’t as food or pharmaceuticals but simply as objects of beauty.  There are few other natural items that rival their aesthetic properties.  In fact, at this time of year, my mother and I have a tradition of roaming the woods together, searching for these treasures.  We scuff through the fallen leaves and laugh at the antics of the busy squirrels and maybe even glimpse a deer flashing away, slender legs twinkling, antlered head held proudly high.  And when we find the slender limbs heavy with their shining seeds, we carefully peel back the leathery-soft husks and fill a basket with these glowing eyes of the autumn woods.  

When we return to our house, in the crisp shadows of the autumn evening, it’s time to decorate!  Over the years, we’ve devised plenty of creative ways to use buckeyes in festive adornments, combining them with other natural fall finds such as pumpkins, acorns, pinecones, dried leaves, and even hickory nut shells.  I smile when I see them adorning our home—the magic of the season, the shining seeds of fall. 

Of course, despite their name, I know buckeyes aren’t really watching me.  The “eyes” that haunt the woods right now don’t keep track of my every move.  However, they do remind me of the One Who truly sees all—our omniscient God.

Just as buckeyes seem to be constantly “watching” the woods, God’s gaze is never wavering.  There is nothing hidden from His sight.  His eyes discern the microscopic crustaceans on the depths of the ocean floor as easily as they identify the stars at the furthest edge of the expanding universe.  He can watch a snowflake fall in the Himalayas, a palm tree sway in Hawaii, a meteor crash into an unknown planet, and a human heart break—all at the same time.  I’m reminded of David’s words in Psalm 139:  “Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether….My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them” (verses 4, 15-16 ESV).  If God sees even unborn children in their embryonic states, we can be assured that He is watching every detail of our lives.

David’s words are echoed by those of the prophet Hanani in 2 Chronicles 16:9:  “For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth” (ESV).  At first glance, we might wonder if this verse is meant as a threat or an unsettling “Big Brother is watching” scenario.  But it’s actually a reassurance!  Just look at the second half of the verse:  “to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him” (ESV).  God isn’t eyeing us with a scowl, waiting to crush us for our misbehavior.  He’s gazing on us with eyes of love—eyes that see our cries for Him and also see the future He has orchestrated for us.  

One of the best illustrations of the watchful care of God is the account of Abram, Sarai, and Hagar in Genesis 16.  As the wife of Abram (who would later be known as Abraham), Sarai had been promised a child by God.  However, as time elapsed, she grew desperate and hatched her own scheme for fulfilling the promise:  present her Egyptian slave Hagar to Abram as a surrogate so that an heir could be produced.  (This was obviously not God’s will, although it was a common cultural practice at the time.)  Shockingly enough, Abram, the man known for his rock-solid faith, agreed.  And the plan worked—sort of.  Hagar did become pregnant, but there were unforeseen repercussions (as there usually are when we act out of our flesh).  Evidently, Hagar began to scorn Sarai and act arrogantly toward her, and Sarai retaliated so abusively that Hagar ended up on the run.  

As we read this passage, we can’t help but wonder:  if God sees everything, where is He now?  Sarai’s scheming and Abram’s complicity seem to transpire unchecked.  We might begin to think that God was asleep or distracted or simply overlooked this situation.  But in verse 7, we realize that God knew what was going on all along.  Always the God of the outcasts, He appears not to Abram or Sarai but to Hagar—frightened, rebellious, lonely, desperate Hagar.  And His encounter with her demonstrates some encouraging truths about the loving watchfulness of God.

First of all, this account teaches us that God sees our hearts.  He had a window to the motives of everyone involved in this situation.  He knew not just the actions of these people but the forces leading them toward the actions:  Abram’s aversion to conflict, Sarai’s restless desperation, Hagar’s longing for escape.  As humans, our view of others is dreadfully shortsighted.  We don’t have the ability to see into the minds and hearts of those around us; we can only judge based on externals, and as a result, we sometimes jump to terrible assumptions.  But God’s discernment penetrates to our deepest parts, the areas of our hearts and minds that are hidden even from us.  He reminds us in Jeremiah 17:10, “I the LORD search the heart and test the mind” (ESV).  And no matter what His probing reveals—He loves us anyway!

Secondly, God sees our distress.  Just look at Genesis 16 again.  Author and Bible teacher Denise Kohlmeyer has pointed out that God is the first one in this passage to refer to Hagar by name.  Abram and Sarai dismissively refer to her as the “slave”; but when God encounters Hagar, His very first word to her was her name.  What comfort this must have been to a woman who probably felt perpetually overlooked—because if God knew her name, she could be confident that He knew her identity, her nature, and her story.  When she was forced to cooperate with her owners’ scheme, He saw.  When her emotions, her rights, and even her personhood were invalidated, He saw.  When she was pregnant and desperate, He saw.  “Behold, you are pregnant and shall bear a son. You shall call his name Ishmael [‘God listens’], because the LORD has listened to your affliction” (Genesis 16:11 ESV, emphasis mine).   What a powerful statement!  And just as God knew Hagar’s distress, He is well-acquainted with ours as well.  No headache or heartbreak escapes His eyes.

But what makes God’s perspective truly unique is that His view is not limited to our present mindsets and current circumstances; He sees the outcome as well.  What He is allowing now is leading to a carefully orchestrated future.  Standing outside space and time, He views the events of our lives in a non-chronological way that we cannot even fathom.  This was revealed in His words to Hagar; He encouraged her that her unborn son would be a mighty leader and the father of a great nation.  (Many groups of Arabic people today are descendants of Ishmael.)  And with this future-oriented vision, He was able to instruct her to return to Abram and Sarai, knowing this was for her ultimate good.  

God sees the hearts, the tears, and the future—and He shared all of this with Hagar.  And how did she respond?  This had to be overwhelming.  She was a female slave—the lowest of the low.  She was an Egyptian—doubtless she had been involved in idolatry.  It’s likely she knew very little about God at all.  But she responded to His words in a powerful way—by giving God a name.  “So Hagar gave this name to the LORD who had spoken to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,’ for she said, “Here I have seen the One who sees me!” (Genesis 16:13 BSB).

The God who sees me.  Hagar could have chosen any title for God.  She could have called Him “The God Who reveals Himself,” or “The God Who promises,” or “The God Who intervenes.”  But instead, she named Him “The God Who sees.”  For this woman who had likely felt very unseen all her life, knowing that God saw her intimately was the most powerful truth.  And that certainty gave her the courage to trust His vision and respond in obedience—returning to the house where she had been mistreated, continuing to be faithful to her duties, and, nearly two decades later, calling upon God’s provision when she was once again in a desperate situation (Genesis 21).  

My friends, if you go to the woods these days, you’ll be surrounded by “eyes.”  The buckeyes will seem to stare at you from every nook and cranny.  However, you don’t need to go to any specific location to be seen by the Father.  His loving eyes have been fastened on you since before you were even conceived, and His watchful gaze knows no interruption.  He sees your motives, He sees your pain, and He sees the future He has designed for you.  What amazing love!  Let’s respond in faith—rejoicing in His care for us and responding with the implicit trust of obedience.  “Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love” (Psalm 33:18 ESV).

Did you enjoy this post? What reminds you that God sees you? Let me know in the comments!