Vision is overrated...

I’ve always wanted a comprehensive vision for my life. I think that everyone does. We want to see the big picture so that we make decisions that help us move forward. Christians will tell you that “where there is no vision people perish”. All the latest books on leadership shout out that vision is what brings people together. It’s what enables the “good” to become the “great”.

I long for vision, for clarity. I’ve always thought that it was the key to avoiding a wasted life. That is, until recently. I guess you could say that my vision of vision has shifted. Oh, I have ideas about life. Grand plans where the history books tell of the impact that I have made. Confidence in decisions that flows out of knowing who I am and why I am here. The problem is that these seem to be only ideas and not reality.

I’m losing vision. And I think that may be a good thing. Maybe in the absence of vision I have had to settle for something less. But then again, maybe less is more. Perhaps God is calling me away from vision to something greater - a glimpse. A glimpse of something that shapes who I am. As I reflect on life I can remember several moments where a “glimpse” caused me to become a different person. The late night prayer when I was seventeen. The realization of my own smallness that came from a view of mountains laid out before me like folds of a blanket God had tossed to the earth. Understanding what a “blessing” was as the most beautiful woman that I’d ever seen walked down the aisle to marry me. These moments, I have realized, are more than just good memories. They have been glimpses of God. Invitations to the throne room. I’ve seen Him in so many places and ways that I would never have expected. The struggle to find words to pray with friends as we looked out over the people living in the garbage dumps of Guatemala City. “Give us this day our daily bread…” The death of the first woman I had the privilege to baptize. The room was so silent after her last breath. Just me and her empty shell. In the silence I learned that I was the empty one, she was finally truly alive. My children singing as they wander through the house, completely unaware that their father is listening, joyfully humbled, bowing in worship to the God who made them.

All of these glimpses have shaped, and continue to shape me. They are like puzzle pieces, slowly giving me a more complete picture of Jesus, and thereby showing me the next steps that I need to take. Revealing to me who I am, who God is calling me to be. No, it’s not a vision. It’s a mosaic of glimpses. And like Mary, I store these moments up, pondering them in my heart, knowing that one day they may lead to a soul-piercing sword. But confident that the wounds bring a deeper healing. A healing that can’t come through a comprehensive vision. A healing that comes through a relationship with a God who shares glimpses of Himself in unlikely ways at unusual times. “Show me your glory” I say. And He does. In little doses. Glimpses.