Looking for Jesus

“How can I pray for you?” I asked that question of three different young women on the same evening. To my surprise, they all gave basically the same answer.

“That my eyes would be opened.”
“That my vision of Christ would be clearer.”
“That I would see Jesus.”

They were groaning with the darkness of the soul, the waywardness of the heart, the distractedness of the eyes.

So.

Should I tell them, “But God said no one would ever see Him in this life, so don’t hope for that.” Be content at your low level of Christian experience. Settle for a life that’s shrouded in the mist of confusion and uncertainty. It may not be great, but it’s normal. Hoping for more, well, that’s just pie-in-the-sky Christianity. And you don’t want to be so heavenly minded that you’re no earthly good. Heavens no.

And yet.

The language of light and sight fills the New Testament. “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light!” Matthew proclaimed about his countrymen. Jesus healed a blind man and then said that those who rejected Him were the ones who truly could not see. Paul told us that God, who commanded light to shine out of darkness, has shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

I could go on and on.

So what can we do, those of us who are longing, aching to see Him more clearly? Longing for our spiritual vision to be, if it could be possible, even more clear than our physical vision? Because truly, in the deepest heart, we know that He is more lovely, glorious, desirable, fulfilling, worthy of praise than all the hundred distractions that are calling for our time and energy and attention.

We seek Him through His written Word, the great Magnifying Glass of God. We beg Him to turn on the light in our souls. We cry out to Him to open the eyes of our understanding. We band together in desperately dependent prayer. There is a world of darkness, and the light of God is as narrow as a laser beam.

Maybe you see the light . . . a little. But your vision is blurry. “I see men like trees walking.” He is your only Hope. Believe that. Seize the hem of His robe and don’t let go. Cry out to Him for vision correction, read His Word, and believe what you read.

But you have to look in the right direction. There is one narrow laser beam of light. Turn toward that, with your new eyes. Don’t keep avoiding Him, claiming you can’t see Him. He has told you how to seek Him. Turn toward Him and seek Him alone, with your hungry heart.

But get obstructions out of the way. Forcefully turn from the things that would pull you away, and run, run after Him, with all the energy He gives you. Then trust Him for more, to keep running.

O man of God, Paul wrote to Timothy, as fast as you can, run from those things that would pull your eyes away—that seeking after riches that has led so many astray. Instead, chase after the one true thing so valuable, so precious, so beautiful, that He will take your breath away when you catch sight of Him. With all your energy press forward toward the righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness that is found in Jesus Christ. Don’t give up. Keep pursuing. Pursue through desperate dependence. Believe with confident assurance that as you pursue, you will see. This is active faith.

Keep seeking. Keep longing. Keep trusting. Keep asking. Keep chasing. And know that your efforts are not in vain. As your gaze becomes more direct, as your vision becomes more clear, as the distractions fade away, the sight of Jesus Christ will take your breath away.

Why I’m writing the “Hidden Heroes” series

The first book in the “Hidden Heroes” series of missionary stories has recently come out. The second has just been accepted for publication. This seems like a good time to tell you the philosophy behind the writing of these books.

First and foremost, they aren’t supposed to be about “exciting adventures in another land” or “strange coincidences” or even “life lessons from a tribal people.” They are about the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

Second, I want each book to start with a missionary from a Western culture, who will be the common thread through all of the individual stories. This is because my primary audience is families from Western cultures, and if the children are anything like  I was as a child, they’ll want to read about someone that they can relate to, from a life similar to their own, who leaves that life for the glory of God.

But thirdly, and this is a huge BUT, I emphatically do not want that Western missionary to be a “hero” any more than any of the other Christians in the book are heroes.

Which leads to the next point: I want to emphasize as much as possible, the great national Christians, the ones who will never write books, who most often will never even speak outside the boundaries of their own land. I want to show their own sacrifice, their love for God, their burning desire for others to know the great truth of the gospel.

My primary audience is children. But in designing the books as family read-alouds, with questions at the end of each story, my audience really goes beyond the children to include the parents. I’m writing for families who want to be pointed together to the glory of God.

I unabashedly want amazing stories. Because we serve an amazing God. And we need to be often reminded of that great truth.

The heroes are “hidden” in the sense that they aren’t household names, they haven’t already had a dozen books written about them, their names may be known to only a few. But in Glory, as they and we throw our crowns at the feet of Jesus Christ alongside Hudson Taylor and George Mueller, which heroes will really be hidden?

Every one of us, my brothers and sisters. Every one of us.