You know what it’s like to wake up in the morning, look out your window, and see heavy fog. Sometimes it’s so thick you can’t see anything. Trees are barely visible. The street is out there somewhere. Probably the first thing going through your mind is, “How am I going to see the road and other vehicles to drive?” Still, the view is captivating. The veil silently lingers over everything. In fact, it changes the landscape perspective. You are left to fill in opaque spaces with memory or imagination. Lines are no longer clear. Outlines barely visible. Boundaries blurry. And everything seems unsure. If only you could unveil the view.



Mostly it’s in the small stuff. I’m sure you’ve been in a jam at some point. Caught in bad circumstances. You have that dreaded, instant panic feeling. It could be you lost your wallet or left your purse on a shelf in a store aisle. Perhaps you forgot to pay an important bill. You may have broken something very special or ruined a plant you were nurturing. Your keys to a public building, a safe, and your own home are missing.
Maybe you ran your car into someone’s fence or got pulled over for speeding. Maybe you said something you later regret terribly.
What does it look like to engage a life that matters? To avoid entanglements, skip the irrelevant, and move forward to be a seasoned believer. And what does it look like to apply practical decisions each day that make a difference in this world. You are only given a certain number of days. How can you make them really count and match God’s heart? What does it look like to carry out God’s agenda in your daily living?
I’m sure you have held an infant, completely helpless, very hungry, in your arms. They depend utterly on you to protect and nourish them. Their intense, desperate delight as they grab the bottle you offer, shows their utter focus on themselves and their complete dependency on you for survival. It’s a precious memory to feed an infant.