I've always been drawn to that moment in 2 Kings 6 when Elisha's servant wakes up to find their city surrounded by enemy forces. His panic is so relatable - he sees only what threatens them, the visible danger closing in from every side.
"Don't be afraid," Elisha tells him with unexpected calm. "Those who are with us are more than those who are with them."
The servant must have looked at him in confusion. What army? What reinforcements? All he could see were enemies.
Then comes that extraordinary prayer: "Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see."
Suddenly, the servant sees what was there all along - the hills full of horses and chariots of fire surrounding Elisha. The invisible realm made visible. The protection that existed even when he couldn't perceive it.
2 Corinthians 4:18 echoes this truth: "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
How often I find myself like that servant, seeing only what threatens, counting only what I can measure, trusting only what my eyes can verify. My vision becomes narrow, focused on problems rather than possibilities, on what's lacking rather than what surrounds me.
Faith isn't denying what's visible. The enemies surrounding the city were real. The challenges we face are real. But faith sees beyond what's visible to what's also true.
When we face illness, we see the diagnosis - but can we also see the care that won't abandon us?
When we face uncertainty, we see the unknown - but can we also see the guidance that's promised?
When we face loss, we see the absence - but can we also see the comfort waiting to be received?
This isn't about pretending everything's fine when it isn't. It's about recognizing that what we can see is never the complete picture. There's always more to the story than what meets the eye.
I think of all the times I've focused on visible deficits - not enough time, not enough resources, not enough strength. And how often God was asking, "Will you let me open your eyes to see differently?"
Sometimes seeing beyond what's visible means recognizing strength we didn't know we had. Sometimes it means noticing help that's being offered. Sometimes it means perceiving God's presence in circumstances where we assumed He was absent.
What situation are you facing today where you need vision beyond what's visible? Where do you need God to open your eyes to see what surrounds you that you've been missing?
The prayer of Elisha remains powerful: "Lord, open our eyes that we may see." Not just problems, but possibilities. Not just what threatens us, but what protects us. Not just our limited resources, but Your unlimited ones.
When we begin to see beyond what's visible, everything changes - not because our circumstances necessarily change, but because we recognize we've never been facing them alone.