control | Hale and Hearty Words

I’ve been living with a pretty severe case of tunnel vision lately.

Before you start to feel sorry for me, understand that I’m talking about self-imposed tunnel vision, not medical tunnel vision.

My eyesight is just fine. But my heart-sight has been way out of whack.

For the past few years, ever since I stopped teaching to be a stay-at-home mom, I’ve had this feeling that my life, daily life as I know it, is temporary. I feel like I’m in an interim period. I know it isn’t going to last. One day I won’t have the pleasure of being a SAHM. One day I’m going to have to go back to work. One day things will change. This is temporary.

So I’ve focused my life around the next “big” event. And as each event comes and goes, as each thing is accomplished, my focus shifts to the next thing on the list.

Someday we’ll have another kid.

Someday I’ll write a novel.

Someday I’ll get an agent.

Someday I’ll be a multi-published author.

Someday I’ll get my Specialists degree.

Someday we’ll buy a new house.

Someday we’ll have another kid.

Someday I’ll go back to work.

To me, each goal is the bright spot at the end of the tunnel. Each bright spot will bring me to a place of “permanency” where my life won’t feel so temporary, so much like I’m in holding, just waiting for the next big thing. That glowing beacon at the end of the tunnel pulls me forward, calling me toward the light, demanding my focus and attention. And when I accomplish one goal, another quickly takes its place.

My pastor preached a very profound sermon on tunnel vision a few weeks ago. It was one of those sermons that went beyond gently nodding my head in agreement or even saying a slight “Amen” here and there. No, no.

This was a kick-me-in-the-gut-God’s-getting-my-attention-right-now kind of sermon.

I’d been struggling with this feeling of “permanency v. temporary living” for a while. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the little moments– I absolutely do, but I don’t want to always be looking forward saying, “what’s next?”

I don’t want my need and desire to control everything to dominate the simple pleasures of living.

Tunnel vision is blinding.

This may seem an obvious statement, but when you think about it, focusing all attention on a goal blinds you to everything else in your life. You’re missing opportunity. You’re missing memories. You’re missing the little things that make life life. You’re missing joy.

The harvest is now.

Not then, when things will be better. Not at some ambiguous moment in the future when intense focus has paid off. Not when everything on the list has been accomplished.

God says, “Look where I have put you and what I have done for you in this moment. The harvest is now.”

And when I really consider each piece of my life; each person in it, each day I’m given, each opportunity that arises, I recall what I’ve always known–that life is never permanent. It’s constantly shifting and changing and molding itself to be whatever God has planned for it to be.

Not my plan–His.

Life is beautiful. And when I can’t see what’s ahead, I look toward that eternal goal in front of me, illuminated by the brilliance of Christ.

His glory lights up everything and it appears around me, freeing me from that tunnel vision to focus on the here and now.

It’s wonderful to have life goals, but I don’t want to miss the life-moments that get me there.