Set Your Eyes Upon Him

 Set Your Eyes Upon Him

This week, I came across a Facebook reel by a woman I did not know. She looked and sounded like a kind grandmother. She briefly described one of her favorite Bible passages from 2 Chronicles, where King Jehoshaphat faced one of the most difficult moments of his reign: a battle against three neighboring nations.

As she narrated this incredible moment in Judah’s history, she described a scene that I could easily relate to. Jehoshaphat looked to God as a child looks to his father when he is in need. 

We can all remember moments from childhood when we faced something that seemed too difficult to handle on our own. Our eyes instinctively searched for the familiar face of a parent, and somehow, we knew everything would be okay. From our earliest years, we learned that our relationship with our parents meant security and comfort in times of need.

So, we called them—for anything and everything. We did not care what others might say or think. We trusted that Mom or Dad would be there for us, even to answer our silly questions or admire our childish drawings. We relied on them completely.

And then, in the cycle of life, we become parents ourselves. We wait for our children to look to us as we once looked to our parents. We want to be the place of love and security they can turn to, while also watching them grow strong, confident, and capable of facing life's challenges.

As parents, we pursue a relationship close enough for our children to know they can come to us at any time, regardless of the circumstances. Yet, at the same time, we want them to grow, become independent, and learn to face life with confidence.

Jehoshaphat knew that the battle before him was too great. He did not know what to do, but he knew where to look and whom to call.

He set his eyes on God, not on his circumstances.

As Esther Emma Walker described it, he was “like a little child standing, looking up to his daddy.” Jehoshaphat did not pretend to have all the answers. He simply cried out for help.

And God answered.

What a beautiful picture of the relationship our heavenly Father desires to have with His children. God does not expect us to face every battle alone. He invites us to come to Him, just as a child runs to a loving father.

There is no struggle too small for us to bring to Him and no battle too great for Him to fight. We may not know what to do, but we can always know where to look.

Set your eyes upon Him.

“Thus says the Lord to you: Do not be afraid nor dismayed because of this great multitude, for the battle is not yours, but God’s.”

2 Chronicles 20:15 

Esther Walker: The Remedy for Worry

Look at the Birds

 “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” Mat. 6:26

Look at the Birds

A week ago, I read a headline that surprised me: bird watching can slow the aging process. Who knew that something so simple—just watching birds—could sharpen the mind and brighten the spirit? 

I live in an apartment whose window opens onto a giant green tree. Every morning, before my alarm rings and while the sun stretches its first golden rays, a chorus of birds wakes me. Sometimes I’m annoyed—disturbed from sleep, longing for silence. Yet even in that irritation, I see a quiet lesson: day after day, these tiny creatures are cared for by their Creator. If they are watched over with such care, surely we, His children, are not forgotten. 

“Look at the birds of the air…” Jesus invites us to notice the small, the delicate, the overlooked. “Are you not much more valuable than they?” And yet, so often, our hearts cling to worry—bills, deadlines, the month ahead.

Watching the birds shifts my gaze from fear to faith. Their freedom, their small songs, remind me that God is attentive, sovereign, and faithful. A simple shift in focus—lifting my eyes, redirecting my thoughts—calms a racing mind and steadies a weary heart. It is no longer about circumstances. It is about the One who holds all things.

Now, when I lie awake and hear the morning chorus, I do not groan. I pause. I listen. I praise. In their songs, I feel love reflected back to me. I am reminded: I am held, I am valued, I am loved. And as I watch and listen, I sharpen my perception, strengthen my memory, and quiet my worries.

Look at the birds. Watch. Learn. Remember. Trust.

bird watching-slows-ageing