“Weren’t you going to walk?” Larry asked.
“Yes, I guess I’ll go now,” I hesitantly replied, at the same time thinking, I really don’t want to. Larry’s question wasn’t intended to prod me, he was just curious. I had put on my walking shoes at 6:30, then poured myself a cup of tea.
Reluctantly exercising what will power I could muster, I put the tea in a thermal mug for later, and headed out the door, tuning in a podcast. Two blocks up the hill, I noticed the fuzzy silhouette of a neighbor putting out her garbage cans, and suddenly realized that I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Obviously, my morning routine was out of sync. Corrective lenses have been part of my life for five decades, and my world is definitely not right without them.
While I benefited from the exercise of my walk, it just wasn’t the same. I didn’t mind being oblivious to the debris from last week’s fireworks littering the streets, but I did miss seeing details of the morphing clouds above the hills and the new flowers that had bloomed in the neighborhood. My journey just didn’t have the clarity and awareness that I usually enjoy.
Five decades ago, when I got my first pair of glasses, I was astonished to see the individual leaves on the trees in our back yard. While my rational mind knew they were distinct, for a long time I had only seen fuzzy green shapes .
It’s amazing how we can go for months or even years, gradually becoming accustomed to things being slightly out of focus, and assume that it’s really what our life should look like. But life should be lived with a keen awareness of everything God has provided for us. He intends for us to have a clear vision of his love and his purposes. For me, that requires the daily habit of putting on my spiritual corrective lenses–reading His Word and asking for the Holy Spirit’s help to sharpen my sight. If I skip that step in my routine, my perception is fuzzy, and I could miss something important.