Focus on the Unseen
In our beginnings, God gave us His breath for life. Jesus came and gave up his breath for our eternal lives. We’re born into the gloaming, balancing breath between birth and death; peace and chaos; and light and dark.
Living on life’s balance beam, as dusk settles along tree lines and cityscapes, we might forget lessons learned from early failures. Failure remains one of my greatest teachers, and she often whispers reminders.
During college, I took a gymnastics rotation. Entering the beautiful room, equipped with balance beams, trampoline, uneven bars, and assorted equipment, I felt like an athlete.
I loved the trampoline. Jumping high and trusting spotters who positioned themselves to break potential falls, I soared. The balance beam, however, was a four inch flat rail of tyranny. I stumbled as a child learning to walk. Tottering and flailing, I demonstrated early incompetence.
Fearful of falling, I watched my toes instead of the beam’s end. Mesmerized by the height of a trampoline jumper, I fell. Sudden noises punctuated faltering concentration, and world events created rivulets of sweat glistening on pale skin. On occasion, I would do something right and hop off the loathsome piece of wood.
When afraid, I stand in place as if frozen in time on the balance beam. Not knowing the direction to turn, what to do, or where to go, I do nothing. Weighted in place, I stare at my feet. Then I hear Failure whisper, “Focus on where you want to go. Get your eyes off your toes.”
With bated breath, I creep forward. Life grabs my attention refusing to grant pause. Distractions from an infinite list of people, things, and troubles impact my equilibrium. Swaying under emotional onslaught and fighting for balance, something catches my attention. I fall. Again.
“Focus on where you want to go,” Failure repeats. “Get your eyes off your toes.”
This balancing act in life seems more like juggling two balls until you can add three or more. But life doesn’t throw one ball at a time. Life releases simultaneous balls from the ceiling, falling like celebratory balloon releases. Sometimes they knock us over or pop in startled faces.
Life’s balance beam teaches not only how to focus, but on what to fix our gaze. We might think we’re balancing checkbooks, errands, or problems, but these are daily matters found at our feet. Instead, we learn to weigh spiritual disciplines carried in our heart.
While staring at the beam’s edge, gazing into the void of space, we understand the balance of all which cannot be seen. We balance mercy and grace; forgiving others as we’ve been forgiven; giving to others as we’ve been given; and lifting burdens from others as have lifted from us.
We balance all we don’t deserve with what we think we do. Swaying between feeling unworthy and being found worthy, weights shift. Life is walked forward balancing the gift of life with the choice of eternal life.
So, we do not focus on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
-2 Corinthians 4:18 (HCSB)
We’ll fall along the way. Make mistakes, lose attention, falter, and even hurt ourselves as we stumble along the balance beam, but God and a community of spotters will catch us. They’ll pick us up and help us try again. We can then inhale, exhale, calm breathing, regulate responses, and refocus on where we’re going.
I continue to learn on life’s spiritual balance beam, listening to the strong voice of God. I didn’t enter this world as an athlete, but I train to leave the world as one; balanced precariously on the beam; clinging to my faith; and focused on the final victory.
Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that lay before Him endured a cross and despised the shame and has sat down at the right hand of God’s throne.
-Hebrews 12:1-2 (HCSB)
