“Don’t be afraid,” the prophet answered. “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” And Elisha prayed, “Open his eyes, LORD, so that he may see.” Then the LORD opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.
In college, I lived in the dorm across the street from the M Trail, aptly named for the massive concrete “M” nestled into the west face of Mount Sentinel. The switchback climb is swift and steep, and from the “M,” University Hall appears doll-sized. But it wasn’t until my last spring there that my entire college experience was put into perspective. You see, the end of M Trail is the start of the jaunt to the summit of Mount Sentinel. This trail meanders through pine forests, across open meadows, and past rocky ridges to a place where the bustle and noise of Missoula is soundless. Up there, momentarily removed from all the deadlines, heartaches, and questions that felt so big, my worries were lost in the sweeping vista of the valley.
Prayer is a lot like a mountain summit. When we engage with God through prayer, the things that feel so big are put into perspective. In prayer, the bustle and noise of life are momentarily soundless. There, we can be still, breathe, and remember God is God over everything. Though no hike is required, shifting our focus from what’s right in front of us to whom is within us does require action. It requires choice. We must choose to be still in God’s presence, even if for a moment.
If the big things of life still seem too big, we must then ask for what does not come naturally to us: the Jesus lens, or a more holy perspective.
The prophet Elisha lived before Jesus’ time, but by virtue of his gift of hearing and speaking God’s truth, he had the Jesus lens, the holy perspective. He heard what others would not.
When the king of Aram wanted to kill the king of Israel, Elisha helped keep the king of Israel out of harm’s way. “Elisha, the prophet who is in Israel, tells the king of Israel the very words you speak in your bedroom,” Aramean soldiers told their furious king whose plans were constantly being thwarted (2 Kings 6:12). The king of Aram set his sights on Elisha, showing up at Elisha’s town with his army.
“Oh no, my lord! What shall we do?” This was the response of Elisha’s servant (2 Kings 6:15). Elisha reassured the servant, and then he prayed, “‘Open his eyes, LORD, so that he may see.’ Then the LORD opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2 Kings 6:17).
Before his eyes were opened, Elisha’s servant saw only trouble. It surrounded their city. It was overwhelming. Instead of letting fear sabotage the heart of his servant, Elisha lovingly prayed. Momentarily removed from the urgency of the hour, the servant saw the entire scene in its proper perspective: God hemming them in on all sides.
Our battle with fear, stress, anxiety, and depression – it’s physical and it’s spiritual. We need spiritual weapons. We need the Jesus lens. When we stop to pray, let’s ask for God to open our eyes, to give us that holy perspective we cannot see otherwise. He is hemming us in on all sides. The troubles we face may feel big, but they are but a brief chapter compared to the might of our God.
Mighty God, you are greater than the troubles that storm through my life. You are greater than my fear, stress, depression, and anxiety. You see what I cannot see. Lord, open my eyes. Show me that you’ve got me covered on all sides with your grace and love. Help me believe. In Jesus’ name, Amen.