When things feel off kilter, I’m quick to pick up books by Eugene Peterson. There’s a long list of reasons why Peterson’s books are worth the time, but one big thing for me is his writing reorients my focus. Inevitably, I come away with a renewed motivation to “keep the main thing the main thing.” And the main thing is Jesus.
Recently, I was rereading Run With the Horses. Peterson wrote, “The setting of priorities is not a once-and-for-all act. It has to be done frequently. Balances shift. Circumstances change. Moods swing….Prayer is the place where priorities are reestablished”[1]
I paused and sat with that paragraph. Why? Because I’m mindful that when my prayer life falls off, and I don’t have clearly defined priorities, I tend to coast from one week to the next. Sure, I get things done. I hit work deadlines, buy groceries, keep the house running, walk my dogs, and check all the boxes. But the truth is, without the anchor of prayer, I fail to live with intentionality and unwittingly end up going through the motions. The shift is so predictable it’s almost cliche; when I lose my focus it begins to feel as if life is happening to me rather than me living it.
Living with intentionality has never been easy. We humans are fickle creatures. We’re prone to forfeit what we truly desire for what we want right now. Millions of good intentions have died at the hands of what’s convenient in the moment. But the case could be made that living with intentionality is more difficult now than ever. In this era of history, rabbit holes abound, there are unlimited unicorns to chase, and digital distraction is the norm rather than the exception.
But is this how we want to live?
When the enemy can’t entice us to rob banks, cheat on our spouses, or commit egregious sins, he tries a more subtle approach—he distracts us. Paul warned about this in his letter to the church at Corinth:
“But I am afraid that as the serpent deceived Eve by his cunning, your thoughts will be led astray from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ” (2 Corinthians 11:3).
This passage gives me the shivers. More than anything, I want to love Jesus with all I’ve got. I don’t want to give Him half of me. Or, God forbid, the leftovers. Directing our focus and setting priorities is our responsibility—no one can do it for us. The bottom line is, we can be as close to Jesus as we choose to be. The book of James says, “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you (James 4:8). Your focus belongs to you and you can give it to whomever or whatever you choose. And if you’ve lost your focus, it’s yours to reclaim.
[1] Eugene Peterson, Run With the Horses, (InterVarsity Press, 2009, p.101).
