For I have often told you, and now say again with tears, that many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction; their god is their stomach; their glory is in their shame. They are focused on earthly things. [Philippians 3:18-19 (HCSB)]
I have a love-hate relationship with my camera and its autofocus. An enormous golden silk spider hangs over the boardwalk we take through the mangroves to the beach. Officially the Nephila clavipes, the female of this species is the largest non-tarantula-like spider in North America. This impressive arachnid has spun her giant orb-like web high above the walkway. She often scares tourists when they glance up to see her suspended above their heads. While I managed to get a shot that of spider, I’d hoped to get a few more of others that have spun their webs down closer to the boardwalk. Autofocus, however, was my enemy. Because their webs were nestled in the trees, the camera looked right through the spiders and focused on the large branches and leaves behind them. My camera focused only on the spider when nothing was behind the creature, but it had plenty on which to focus when pointed at the spiders in the mangroves. The ease of having a small point-and-shoot camera that is so easy to use keeps me loving (but occasionally hating) it.
Similar to a camera with autofocus, we occasionally focus on the wrong things in life. The consequences, however, are far worse than a few blurry photos. Like my camera, we look at the big things in the background—the unimportant things—rather than what is right in front of us. We automatically focus on all that we lack rather than the little that we have, on all that’s wrong rather than what is right, and on the doors that are shut rather than the door that is open. We worry about our tomorrows rather than focusing on today and see all of the reasons we can’t rather than the reason we can. We focus on the mistakes of yesterday rather the possibility of tomorrow and how bad we are rather than how great our God is. In short, we focus on the world instead of focusing on God. He’s right there in front of us but, sometimes, all that other stuff in the background keeps us from seeing Him! We need to set our autofocus on God and His promises rather than the world and our problems.
Focus on giants – you stumble. Focus on God – Giants tumble. [Max Lucado]
When trouble comes, focus on God’s ability to care for you. [Charles Stanley]
The Israelites were told to trust God for their daily manna and not to save any for the following day. Those that kept any manna found it spoiled and full of maggots the next morning. God wanted them to trust Him to meet their daily needs. Throughout the Bible we are assured that God will provide for us. Why then do we have such difficulty believing in His provision?
As I look out the window, I can see the cars and trucks speeding off to their various destinations. Meanwhile, I am at the gym, feverishly pumping away on the elliptical and going nowhere fast. What really annoys me is that, no matter where I put it, my Fitbit doesn’t fully credit me for my steps or distance. If I’m going to break a sweat and cover a couple of miles on that pitiless machine, I want credit for all my work! Next to me is my husband pedaling the stationary bike. Like me, he’s expending a great deal of energy to go absolutely nowhere and his Fitbit, like mine, won’t properly acknowledge his effort!
My doorbell rang and, by the time I got to the door the FedEx man was walking away, having left a large box on the porch. As he backed out of the driveway, I shouted a thanks and brought in my latest order from Amazon.
Writing about my granddaughter yesterday made me think about birth defects. In actuality, all of us have what could be called birth defects—it’s just that some are more obvious than others. While all of God’s children have defects, none are defective. I consider a young man at our Florida church. Cerebral palsy keeps him strapped into a wheel chair and his physical limitations are immense. There is, however, nothing defective about this bright young man. I ponder the enthusiastic grocery worker with Down’s syndrome. She may have an extra chromosome, but there is nothing defective about her. I think of a fellow at church who has no ears. He may be deaf but there is nothing defective about him, nor is there anything defective about a friend’s grand born with only a partial arm and hand or my grand, with her heart defects and learning issues. They are all marvelously made—different from others, but no less wonderful.