Pick With Your Eyes

Saturday night we had dinner guests who arrived bearing a plate loaded with brownies and cookies. After our baked potatoes and chili, the kids helped themselves to brownies while the adults sat and talked. I offered dessert, but everyone virtuously turned me down, instead sinking deeper into the couches as we continued our conversation. Finally, I realized that I wanted a brownie, so I asked Littles to go make tea and bring the dessert plate to us (this is the kind of next-level parenting you can expect around here). 

You can probably guess what happened: yep, all those super health-conscious military officers sat there and helped themselves to brownies and cookies one after another until hardly any were left.

What changed? They’d been offered dessert already. I’d asked if I could bring it to them. Even if I hadn’t, the plate of brownies was sitting on the kitchen counter, easily accessible to people who had been walking in and out of the kitchen all night going back for seconds. No one was shy. No one was embarrassed. It was a 100% judgement free dessert eating zone (almost without a doubt the best kind of zone to be in).

What changed was the accessibility of the brownies. The reality is that we tend to choose what’s easiest. And in most cases, what is easiest is what is right in front of our faces.

Obviously, on a health front, this is a cautionary tale. But it could be a wake up call in a lot of other ways. 

We have the opportunity to ask ourselves: What is right in front of my face? What am I making it easy to choose?

During our last year in Virginia, we lived in a tiny neighborhood on a steep hill behind a busy street. Going for long runs was not ideal. I’d do a couple miles and want to die. It required an immense amount of self control to get myself out the door and incredible mental fortitude to make myself do any more than the bare minimum. 

In contrast, on this base, there are multiple running trail options right outside my door. I have the option of short or long (or seemingly endless) runs just by putting on my shoes and walking outside. I can route myself to hit small or big hills (or hardly any hills at all). I can run on sidewalks or asphalt trails or sandy desert paths. Consequently, making the choice to get out and run three times a week has been easy. 

It’s right in front of my face, therefore I choose it.

Moving to a place where there is a plethora of running options was a small grace. Sometimes, though, we have to put a little effort into choosing what we put directly in front of our faces. Sometimes, we have to be purposeful.

This year, I decided I want to read more nonfiction books. I mentioned this to my mom, and she sent me a care package with half a dozen books to choose from so I have a visible stack available. When I finish my current biography, I know exactly where to go for my next option (at least until I finish them).

I have a phone addiction problem. It’s compounded by the fact that my phone is almost always in easy reach. Maybe I need to consider putting my phone out of sight for a few hours a day so that I stop obsessively checking Facebook, email, and Instagram. Maybe I need to remember that it’s possible to set special ring tones for the calls I truly don’t want to miss and filter out the rest of the dopamine-inducing dings.

I want to purposefully think on Scripture throughout the day, reminding myself of what matters, pushing myself into prayer. So not only do I make sure that my Bible and journal are on the table ready to go for my quiet time every morning, but I follow writers on Instagram who write God honoring words and also share beautifully presented Scripture. I write verses into my bullet journal and schedule Bible reading and Scripture memory into our school day. I make it easy to have God’s word before me, because the sad thing is that, left to my own devices, I often would choose going hungry over walking my lazy bum into the next room where a plate of delicious brownies waits for me.

The challenge comes when it is more than choosing exercise or better reading habits, when it extends past the tangible. What if what we need is to put courage, patience, or wisdom before ourselves? What then?

Then we remember that when Paul called the early believers to strap on their helmet of salvation, buckle on the breastplate of righteousness and the belt of truth, hold onto their shield of faith—he called them to do so, knowing that Christ is the source of salvation, Christ is our righteousness and the foundation of our truth, Christ is the rock on which our faith rests. He is the courage we need, the patience we can’t find, the wisdom we long for.

So what we need the most, when we need those intangible virtues that seem so hard to come by, is to fix our eyes on Jesus. We need to make choosing Jesus the easy choice by already having him directly in our line of sight.

We choose to pick Jesus with our soul’s eyes—just like we’ve chosen a stack of good books or a cell phone free surface beside us or a running path out our front door—and we see how much more easily we choose the rest of the things that matter.