Eyes on the Wrong Thing

Last night at dinner, something unexpected happened—not because of the people, who I love and respect deeply, but because of what the conversation stirred in me. I walked away angry. Not just disappointed or frustrated—angry. My emotions were raw, and my words followed. I was defending something I believed was good, something I thought clearly advanced God’s Kingdom. And yet, the response I received felt like resistance, even rejection. I bristled. I pushed back. I spoke from a place of emotion, not peace. Underneath it all, I was closed off—closed to what I was hearing, closed to the idea that someone with real authority on the matter might be right, closed to the possibility that my perspective had blind spots. I didn’t like it. It felt like a roadblock to something I wanted to see flourish, something I believed God wanted to flourish.

But somewhere in the frustration, bitterness, and confusion, the Holy Spirit whispered something I didn’t expect: “Your eyes are on the wrong thing.” It hit me hard. I realized I wasn’t actually fighting for God’s Kingdom—I was fighting for my idea of how it should look. I was tangled in societal interpretations, institutional perceptions, stigma, scrutiny, and judgment. I was distracted by the optics of the world. And in all of that, I had lost sight of Jesus. Not the institution. Not the system. Not the labels. Jesus. He is the mission. He is the message. He is the reason we do anything.

John the Baptist didn’t spend his days arguing over structures or defending systems. He paved the way. He pointed people to Jesus with one simple proclamation: “Behold, the Lamb of God.” That’s our job too—to prepare hearts, to clear the path, to bring people not to programs or institutions but to Him. The Church matters. It absolutely matters. But when my heart becomes more consumed with how others perceive the Church than with how they encounter Christ, I’ve missed the point. The mission is simple: souls, hearts toward Jesus, people encountering the One who transforms everything.

If I’m honest, last night exposed something in me—a distraction, a misplaced focus, a slide into fighting battles Jesus never asked me to fight. I don’t want to build walls. I want to build runways. I want to help souls take off toward heaven. So today, I’m praying to realign my heart with the only thing that matters: Jesus, keep my eyes fixed on You. Help me lead souls toward You—not toward my preferences, my plans, or my interpretations. Strip away ego, emotion, and defensiveness. Make me a pathmaker, like John. Make me someone who points clearly—only to You. In the end, it’s all about Him. It has always been about Him. And if we get this right—if our eyes are fixed on Jesus—nothing can stop the movement of grace He wants to unleash.

John 3:30 “He must increase; I must decrease.”