Day 3165 of the 7 day Bible verse challenge.

1 Corinthians 13:12 NIV

The pains of growth shouldn't overshadow or outshine the beauty of the promises toward each new struggle invites us a step closer.

But they do.

Be it the challenge of it all or all the uncertainty always present, there's just something about where we've been called that seems to have this air of doubt always hanging about. It's almost as if we've chosen to fear, to worry, to want only for a path that's easier, safer, quicker to reward. And when that half-hearted and wholly heartbreaking outlook is considered as outstanding as we so often see it to be, well, we're left to grasp for the excuses that make it so.

All so we don't have to sit with the realization that we've stopped half-way to life only because our sight can only get us that far.

That's a tragically common misunderstanding beheld by most. It's this deceptive conception that has us convinced that our sight is able to see enough to get us where we need to be. But in truth, no, sight only amounts to the amount of information present in the present. Sight has no power in nor purview of the coming we can't see coming. We can only see what’s there to be seen, a fact which should be obvious. But obviously, we don’t care to consider the limits of anything and everything we want to be limitless.

Fact is sight is a sense relied upon most heavily by those mostly blind. Never really see it that way though.

No, it's as if sight has been given this glory above all the other senses and sensibilities only because it does offer a rather impressive amount of impression in comparison. If we can see it then we know it's there, don't have to wonder or worry. If a camera can capture it or a video convey it, then we’re convinced. It has to be real, it’s right there! We've long had little reason to not trust in our vision as it's served us well, arguably better than other senses ever could.

Indeed, hearing has downsides and we live in a world rife with lies. Taste is a bit confusing of a consideration as everyone has a slightly different opinion. Touch is great, but then again it seems far safer to see something before you go to grabbing. Smell is pretty reliable, but often tied entirely to sight as sort of an indication that we need to find the source. And so sight is quite the clear winner of the group as the rest either have clear downsides or simply refer back to the need to see anyway.

But what if we can't see enough? What if our eyes can’t look far enough to ever truly know enough to be or become certain that what we're doing is real, is true, is worth the time spent and the life lost in order to follow the way toward it? What if our sight, much like our hearing, is actually more susceptible to deception than we've ever has cause to consider? Indeed, if we can agree that our ears can be swayed by lies that sound just right, why can't we admit that maybe everything we see isn't as it seems?

Why can't we admit that the human eye, as with every other human tool and trait does have its own unique limits?

Because we don't want to. Because seeing is believing. Because proof is needed before we'll agree to consider anything. Because we've become so adverse to risk that we'll only risk our lives for what we can see. And that's a shame because faith has no reliance upon sight. Doesn't need the convenience. Shouldn't want the ease. Can't exist unless it's believed. And since seeing is believing to so many, guess that means if it can't be then they won't be.

That's the proverbial line in the sand that every heart, every mind, every soul must someday choose to either cross or concede. Because there comes a time in life wherein everything we know ought to help us understand that we simply don't know everything. Everything we see today that we’ve not seen before should show us that we can’t possibly see what’s coming.

Indeed, the mysteries of eternity, of salvation, of forgiveness even, they're all entwined inside the unseen. They're all matters of hope, of trust, of humility which demands our ability to see beyond sight. They’re gifts held inside the unknown, waiting for us to find them right beside the willingness to try for more than we’ve already found and figured.

And well, that's understandably a really tough thing for a people who've always known to only trust in what they can see as if it can be seen then it's already proven. No risk. No danger. No potential for disappointment. Scripture doesn’t promise any of the above. Faith by all accounts doesn't promise any of the above. Christ, despite embodying a kind of love willing to die, doesn't even promise any of the above. Because He knows that a relationship as strong as what's needed to face what's coming needs to be built on trust.

So rather than promising no risk, no danger, no disappointment along this ever-narrowing road leading only away from a life spent trying to see, He just asks us to trust in what can only be seen faintly through hearts faulty and failing and falling into the fullness of finally finding that faith is the only thing that can lead us to where and what we can't see. Yes, He asks us to close our eyes and open our hearts, because our hearts reside inside while our eyes can only see what isn’t in us.

And He died to live in us, not in simply an image our eyes can fathom.

That's why the promise is so profound. It's not just peace. Not periodic rest. It's not a calmness that comes and goes as that that we've always known. No, He promises far more than the fragility and futility and fracturablity which have always and will always define this life we've known so far in this place we've always known.

And because He calls us into the unknowns where everything we've leaned upon is gone, in return for the difficulty of a faith following a path we can't see as people who truly rely upon that ability, He promises completion.

Complete peace. Unending joy. Unshakable love. Unbreakable hope. Unfailing faithfulness. A literal eternity of everything we cannot possibly see in fullness in this fractured and falling world.

As of now, we have but bit and pieces, crumbs left as a trail to follow. Scripture, prayer, communion and fellowship, worship and praise. They're all individual pieces of this path leading us to that place we can't see where we're finally beside our Savior we've not yet seen either. But do we have that patience? See, faith first demands we stop looking and start trusting, but then that demand diverges into others such as patience, perseverance, humility, courage.

All of which are indeed hard for us to offer. And the difficulty demands we consider a few questions: Do we have that trust? Do we want to keep going even when it inevitably gets hard? Do we have the audacity to wait for what we can’t see when still surrounded by the convenience of comforts we can?

Do we not yet see the unimaginable worth of what's been promised, and is it not worth enough for us to lay aside our trust in what we can see knowing that sight has limits not worth risking missing the way?

Because the truth is we'll not have that convenience along this ride. Wouldn't be what it needs to be if we did. We need, again, a relationship built on trust. And to be honest, seeing is too easy to afford a foundation strong enough to remain standing when the ground eventually falls out from under us. Because when all this starts shaking, our eyes won’t know what’s happening.

Do we even care to consider that? That days are coming wherein the darkness will be so deep that our eyes will fail us? That love will soon grow so frigid that to follow this narrow road will only hurt so much that it stings our eyes to watch the hatred rushing by? That, just as Lot was asked, there might things coming that we don't need to see, shouldn't want to see?

Will we listen or risk the pillar part?

You see, we've become so insistent upon seeing everything first, we likely don't calculate the danger held in that demand. Because if we keep wasting our time waiting for a sign, who's to say we won't have waited too long? I mean, honestly, do we think Christ will appreciate His having to prove Himself once more? Was the cross not enough? Is the Bible not sufficient? Is the peace felt during prayer not able to convince us that something is there that we can't see?

Isn't it all enough to prove that we don't need to?

A day is coming when we'll see the full picture. We will see Christ, face to face. We will see the gates of Heaven, from the outside at least. The crucial question then becomes whether or not the outside is all we want to see. Because that part is guaranteed. We will all bow, confess, acknowledge. And all that will be done in a place unlike this earth, because we'll have passed from here just before then.

But what then?

What will our answer be to the questions we'll be asked? What can we offer in response to the irrationality that we've shown so continually? Will we come before Him adamant that He's not there because our eyes have never seen Him? Or will we run into His arms excited and relieved to finally see what we've always seen inside?

That's the beauty of this gift of faith. It allows us to see Him without seeing Him. To focus in so fully that we feel Him. To pray so often that He knows our voice more than He probably needs to! To walk so faithfully by faith and not by sight that on that day, our sight will be the last thing we worry about, trailing behind hearts overfilled with joy as finally coming home to a place they knew they'd find.

All because they didn't try to see their way there.

Friends, sight will only get us so far, and it's entirely limited to this ground we see now. And like it or not, we've been promised through the inevitability of death that this world we know now will be gone one day. I pray that we stop limiting ourselves to what we think we know based almost entirely on only what we can see. Because the simple truth is that we don't need to see Him to know Him. He knows us, and that's simply all that should matter for right now.

This journey we're on will end in a place we've not been before. It's not on a map. There are no GPS coordinates. And the only trail we have to follow leads into a tomb. Don’t we get it yet? What are we expecting? Everything about this demands we step way beyond what we know, what we see, what we hear, where we are.

Will we go, knowing that we've no idea how to get there other than by following a path that reveals itself through choices we've yet to make still held inside days we've yet to endure? That's the challenge. And it will be hard because we can't do this like we've done everything else we've done so far. Sight won't work because we can only see bits and pieces.

But our hope, our joy, our faith shouldn't exist in bits and pieces as a result. No, they should be full, filling new every morning as we’re met with a few more hours to find a bit more of Him beyond our vision, seen only in our hearts melting from the stone they’ve been. He is found in our finding out that less really is more, because the less we can rely on ourselves, the more on Him we'll have to lean.

It all comes down to what you're convinced you need. If you need to see the way, you're going to struggle with all the false flags and wrong turns and horrible directions this world is ready to give. But if we simply need to know that He knows us and won't lose us as He so clearly loves us, then we'll be among the few who find what eyes aren't meant to see.

He is the Way, and simply put, we don’t need to find it as He’s already found us. No, all we need to focus on is finding a fuller measure of faith that allows us to lean more fully on Him instead of what we once built our trust upon. Because one day all we see won’t be seen anymore. But that shouldn’t instill fear. It should be exciting.

So much so that it implores us to rage beyond the limits of our vision and leaves us eagerly expecting to find the One we’ve never needed to see because we’ve always believed He’s always been there. Just beyond our abilities.

#LeaveNoSoulUntold