By Lana Shoaf published in First Mennonite’s “Update” in June 2019

“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe…”

Ephesians 1:18-19a

Our eight-year-old son wore through three pairs of shoes over the last school year. When we discovered holes near the toes of his third pair after spring break, we purchased an indestructible pair of hiking shoes with rubber uppers that should last him longer than a few months (we hope)! When considering writing this column, I thought how inspiring it would be to wear out a pair of metaphorical shoes “fitted with the readiness that comes with the gospel of peace” in the armor of God outlined from Ephesians 6. I’m not sure how my son manages to destroy an expensive pair of tennis shoes through everyday wear-and-tear, but if I were to practically carry that readiness with me through each day and each point of contact, I am likely to wear through a set of spiritual shoes every few months too.

Here’s the kicker. Last week, I took the same son to the eye doctor and guess what? He desperately needs glasses. The eye doctor said if he were a sixteen-year-old at the license branch, he would fail the eye exam to get his license! When the eye doctor pulled a make-shift set of glasses up to our son’s eyes with his new prescription, he couldn’t help but smile. He could see clearly!

He is excited to pick up his glasses this week so he can see well. I feel horrible for waiting too long to address his complaints about blurry vision. I was still shaking my head as we walked out of the doctor’s office when I saw his wrinkled and worn, but completely sturdy hiking shoes. And a new thought hit me.

Spiritually speaking, this combination of worn out shoes and bad vision is a horrible pairing.

Here’s why: I have a lot of great ideas. It’s a curse really. I think they are fabulous, achievable ideas! My husband often listens to an idea and then politely considers the ways in which the plan would be impossible to implement. I call him a pessimist; he says he’s a realist. At any rate, I run in circles at times. In fact, I would say that I have run in circles with my own plans so much in life that I have set out with a pair of shoes fitted with the readiness that comes with the gospel of peace only to wear myself down. I’ve lost my vision. I forget where my focus lies and plans become mottled, feelings are hurt, and frustration abounds.

Paul evidently saw this in the believers in Ephesus too. His prayer focus was the vision of their hearts.

I want the vision of my heart to be set on Jesus and eternity. Perhaps when my spiritual vision is clear, my shoes will be fitted and ready with direction and purpose. I’m not sure my son’s shoe wear-and-tear will stop once he gets his glasses, but I can be sure he will know where he is going! I want to be efficient like that. I want to wear out my shoes, but know where God is leading. Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart! †