Mark 8:22-26
“They came to Bethsaida. Some people brought a blind man to him and begged him to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village, and when he had put saliva on his eyes and laid his hands on him, he asked him, “Can you see anything?” And the man looked up and said, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking.” Then Jesus laid his hands on his eyes again, and he looked intently, and his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly. Then he sent him away to his home, saying, “Do not even go into the village.””
Have you ever faced a time in life when you wished you could see the future clearly? Maybe that’s exactly where you are now. For me, this longing is a familiar struggle. While having a visionary spirit is a strength, it can make it hard to stay grounded in the present. The first time I heard the phrase, “Be where your feet are,” it struck me deeply.
In Mark 8:22-26, this theme of presence and unfolding vision comes to life. Jesus takes a blind man by the hand and leads him out of the village, where He begins the man’s healing in stages—first blurry shapes, then full clarity. Jesus’ deliberate process here reminds us that sometimes, God only allows us to see part of the picture. As much as we crave certainty about our future, He may be calling us to an experience of gradual trust and surrender.
In my life, I’ve learned that this journey of trust and surrender is often made possible through the support of others. When I wrestle with questions about the future, it’s tempting to retreat and feel weighed down by the unknown. But in these seasons, God often reveals Godself through the love of those who walk beside me, reminding me that I am not alone. In the care and encouragement of others, God’s hidden presence becomes visible, especially in those moments of uncertainty.
As we move into the holiday season, many of us face an array of unknowns. For some, the holidays are filled with joy and celebration, yet for others, this time stirs up memories of loss, heartache, or fatigue. Being around friends and family can bring both comfort and complexity, as we navigate expectations, old wounds, and concerns that weigh on our minds. We may find ourselves feeling anxious about gatherings, worrying about difficult conversations, or longing for relationships to feel more connected and whole.
In these moments, when our minds race with ‘what-ifs’ and our hearts long for clarity, it’s easy to lose sight of the present, focusing instead on the invisible hopes and hidden hurts we carry. But just as Jesus led the blind man step by step, He invites us to trust Him through each moment, even when we see only glimpses of the bigger picture. This Advent, as we prepare our hearts, may we hold onto the peace that comes from being present—knowing that even in our uncertainties, Jesus walks with us and works within us.
In what area of your life does God feel hidden, and as you face concerns about the future, who in your community can you turn to for grace, love, and hope?