The temperature was hovering around freezing, and a mix of rain and snow was falling from the sky. “Keep both hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road,” the radio weather person advised.
Curious advice, I thought. No matter what is falling from the sky, shouldn’t one always keep both hands on the wheel and eyes on the road when driving?
It is easy to get distracted when driving, just as it is easy to get distracted from what is truly important in life, what will keep me headed in the right direction.
The letter to the Hebrews advises us to keep our “eyes fixed on Jesus” (Hebrews 12:2).
Staying focused on Jesus can be a challenge because of the level of honesty is requires in dealing with ourselves and others.
Evelyn Underhill prayed,
“O Lord, penetrate those murky corners where we hide memories and tendencies on which we do not care to look….The persistent buried grudge; the bitterness of that loss we have not turned into sacrifice; the private comfort we cling to; the secret fear of failure which saps our initiative and is really inverted pride…”
How honest, how brutally honest.
After my conversion when I was twenty-one, it was relatively easy to stay focused on Jesus. I read my Bible every day, seeking Jesus’ advice and guidance. He became my constant companion, and I turned to him daily for direction and forgiveness.
Just because I was walking with Jesus did not mean I had stopped sinning—rather, it meant I was more convicted of my sins, more sorrowful for my wrongdoings and more desirous of changing my ways.
In my mid-thirties, I had what I came to call my “garden year,” a time of intense prayer and mystical visions. I could not not pray. At all hours of the day and night, I would experience this deep desire to pray. The nuns at my parish gave me free access to their chapel so that I could have a private prayer place whenever I needed it, and I often left work during the middle of the day to go pray.
What was God doing with me? I wondered. It was odd, and, frankly, somewhat annoying. It was not something I could talk about at work or really with most anyone except my spiritual director and my housemate.
My spiritual director thought it wonderful how God was filling me with grace and blessings. She thought visions were pure gift and encouraged me to be open and to record them in my journal.
My housemate, like me, thought it all a bit peculiar. I was just an ordinary person having this extraordinary experience. And for what reason? To what end?
Over time, I have become more comfortable with the way Jesus has shaped my life.
Keeping my eyes on Jesus means a continual invitation to forgiveness and compassion. It means having a heightened awareness of people who are marginalized and vulnerable—and how their vulnerability intersects with mine.

I read this piece shortly after responding to your comment on my recent post. Now I see the intersection between our thoughts more clearly, and I’m grateful. Spiritual growth involves sometimes painful spiritual honesty. A friend once told me that he doesn’t know how to make growth painless, and yet the only alternative was stagnation and spiritual death. It’s good to have wise friends like him. And you. Thanks, Madeline!
Thank you. I find the cross-section that occurs through blogs so interesting. As I sit in church these days, I am aware of a greater inter-connectedness.
Madeline, your thoughts and insights are a real focusing exercise for me. Thank you
My spiritual director in PA did a focusing exercise for connecting what is deep within with what is playing out on the surface. A key for me is to slow down and take time to reflect.