Three Habits to Prevent "Out of Sight, Out of Mind"

You’re familiar with the phrase, “out of sight, out of mind,” right? It summarizes a danger we all face - if friends moves away, will we just forget them? That does happen.

Or what about the challenges military families experience during deployments?  If a spouse is going to be gone for three months, or six months, or longer, how do the families at home keep those deployed close to their hearts when they’re not present physically? Marriages  have been wrecked when out of sight led to out of mind.

But the statement “out of sight, out of mind,” is not an inevitability, but only a danger. I have a dear friend I’ve known for over 40 years. In the last 20 years, he’s been “in sight” exactly three times, for only a week at a time. But we work hard to stay “in mind” through weekly phone calls and even more frequent emails and texts.

Come Unto Me

Some days I feel like a weary child whose life is confusing, whose days are hard, with little understanding of why. I need Jesus in those times not to explain or to offer up a grand scheme. I need Him, His presence, His goodness, His kindness, and His nail-scarred hands.

If I could, on those days I would curl up like a little child, close to the warmth of my Savior. I would come near to Him without speaking, and just settle down at His side. I believe He would smell like leather, like wood smoke, and like the sea. And sitting so near Him would settle my heart.

And some days I feel like an old man, so tired of trying hard and often failing that I need the touch of Someone older than time, the Ancient of Days, who will soothe my brow and let me rest. Maybe, I hope, I will hear Him whisper: “Well done.”

This is one of those days, Lord Jesus Christ. 

I'm glad You said, Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

He Was There All Along

My wife and I enjoy the paintings of western artist Bev Doolittle. Her watercolors are striking and beautiful, but if you look more closely, you find hidden treasures.

For example, in the picture I've included here, there's the old trapper riding across a mountain stream, leading his packhorse behind him. But there's more.

Look again at the rocks in the stream. And at the evergreen branches above the trapper's horse. Do you see the Native American faces? (Click here for a larger size.)

Her paintings often make a connection between the natural world and the spirit world. Though her art isn't focused on Christ (you'd probably call it animistic), it still reminds me of something I've learned about Jesus.

When I look back at the rocky, painful times in my life, I've begun to see Christ there. When I revisit the scenes where I felt most alone, or most defeated, or most rejected, I now believe He was quietly present. Then He seemed a million miles away.

Then I didn't understand why He did not prevent me from stumbling or remove me from the trial or stop the pain. Now I see that, in His wisdom and compassion, nothing came into my life that He did not first measure and screen and regulate. He allowed only that which would serve His glory and ultimately my good.

The truth is, through no merit of my own, I've always been His and He's always been with me. Long before I knew Him, He was there. My own memories are not always pleasant. I bear the scars of my own failures and sins, plus the wounding that comes from the failures and sins of others. But when I look carefully, into those dark times when I thought morning would never come, He's there. His face is lit with kindness and love, and I remember that He carries scars, too.