It’s been a few weeks since my last post…life has just been a bit busy in our home. I’m sure you can relate. But over the past week, I’ve had a thought stirring in my heart that I haven’t been able to shake. I wanted to take a few moments to share it with you, with the hope that it will both challenge and encourage you.
Several years ago, I arranged a meeting between my oldest son, Jonathan, and a successful entrepreneur in our city. Jonathan was still in high school and beginning to think about his future. He had shown some interest in business and leadership, and I thought it might be helpful for him to sit down with someone who had built something, led well, and could speak into his life from experience.
As the conversation began, I mostly sat back and listened. What stood out to me was that this leader didn’t begin by talking about money, strategy, business plans, or career paths. He started with something deeper. He asked questions that revealed Jonathan’s vision, attitude, outlook, and perspective. Before he talked to him about what he wanted to do, he wanted to understand how he saw life.
At one point, he looked at my son and said, “Jonathan, in this life, you usually find what you’re looking for.” Those words were meant for my son, but they struck something deep inside me. I’ve never forgotten them.
And while that principle is certainly true in life, I’ve found it to be just as true in ministry.
If we’re constantly looking for what’s wrong, we’ll find it. If we’re always searching for what’s missing, broken, frustrating, or disappointing, we won’t have to look very long. There’s always a problem to solve, a burden to carry, a criticism to process, or a reason to lower our expectations.
But the opposite is also true. If we’re looking for the hand of God, we’ll begin to notice His faithfulness. If we’re watching for His goodness, we’ll begin to see evidence of His grace. If we’re listening for hope, we’ll begin to hear more than the noise of fear.
Psalm 121 begins with these words:
“I lift up my eyes to the mountains, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
That’s a powerful posture for the people of God, especially for pastors and leaders. It reminds us that what we look for often shapes what we notice. When our eyes are down, discouragement is easy to find. But when our eyes are lifted toward the Lord, we begin to recognize His help, His grace, and His faithfulness all around us.
There are seasons when our eyes naturally drift downward. We look at the problems, the pressure, the budget, the attendance, the criticism, the uncertainty, the needs around us, and the weariness within us. None of those things are imaginary. Ministry carries real weight.
But Psalm 121 reminds us that the direction of our gaze matters.
“I lift up my eyes.”
That doesn’t mean we deny reality. It means we refuse to let reality be interpreted without God. We look beyond the burden to the One who carries us. We look beyond the pressure to the One who sustains us. We look beyond what’s lacking to the One who provides.
Our help doesn’t come from perfect circumstances. It doesn’t come from having every answer, every resource, or every problem solved. Our help comes from the Lord. Because in life and ministry, we usually find what we’re looking for.
So today, I’m reminding myself, and maybe encouraging you too: look for Him. Look for His grace. Look for His faithfulness. Look for His fingerprints in the middle of ordinary days and difficult seasons.
Don’t live eyes down. Don’t let discouragement train your vision. Don’t let weariness determine your expectation. Lift your eyes! Your help comes from the Lord.
PRAYER
Heavenly Father, I need your help today. Help me lift my eyes to you, again. When ministry feels heavy and life feels uncertain, teach me to look beyond the pressure I feel that I might see Your faithfulness. Help me notice Your grace; help me trust Your provision; and help me lead with hope. Keep my heart steady, my spirit encouraged, and my eyes fixed on You. I pray this in Jesus’ name, amen!