The Rocky Focus

This series of writing is a testimony to how God has spoken to me multiple times in a short 2 hour span. I was blessed enough to be able to write this, upon His prompting. Pray that this series will also be a blessing to you, as it is to me!

The Rocky Focus

As I turned back from the cordoned-off quarry, the physical hike changed. I was no longer climbing toward a goal; I was heading back. The path was now a descent, and the conditions had turned tricky. Recent rain had left the rocks wet and the mud slippery.

Naturally, my posture changed. I tucked my chin, fixed my eyes firmly on the ground, and calculated every single step. My mind was in full "logical mode"—focusing on center of gravity, grip, and avoiding a fall. It was the responsible way to hike. It was safe.

But it was also blinding.

The Cathedral in the Shade

At one point, for no particular reason, I stopped. I forced myself to break my gaze from the rocky path and look up.

I was stunned.

Because I had been so focused on the few inches of ground in front of me, I hadn't noticed that the trees on either side of the trail had leaned inward, their branches intertwining to form a massive, natural shelter. It was like standing in His shelter. The "darkness" I had perceived while looking at the ground wasn't gloom—it was the shade provided by God’s creation to protect me from the blistering Singapore sun.

The "Heads-Down" Trap

It hit me how often I live my life exactly like that descent. Especially in seasons of transition or struggle, I tend to go into "survival mode." I focus on the "slippery spots"—the monthly expenses, the project deadlines, the minor disagreements at home—thinking that if I just watch my steps carefully enough, I’ll be okay.

There is nothing wrong with being logical. There is nothing wrong with safety. But there is something deeply missing when we forget to admire God’s work in the midst of the struggle.

In life, we are called to praise God in the slippery conditions, not just after we reach the safety grounds.

The Difficulty of the Pause

How difficult is it, really, to just stop? I felt an internal nudge to move forward, to "complete" the task of the hike. I had no immediate time concerns, yet my heart felt hurried.

I realized I wasn't just neglecting the view; I was neglecting the Giver of the view. I was so worried about falling that I forgot to be thankful for the strength to even walk the path.

My exhortation to you (and to myself): Sometimes, the most spiritual thing you can do is pause where you are—right in the middle of the "downhill" grind—and look up. Not because the danger of slipping has disappeared, but because God has provided a "shelter" in the trees that you can only see when you stop staring at the treacherous rocks.

Whats more, he exhorts you. Journey together with a Brother.

Bible Verses

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

9 Two are better than one,

    because they have a good return for their labor:

10 

If either of them falls down,

    one can help the other up.

But pity anyone who falls

    and has no one to help them up.

Takeaway Questions:

The "Look Up" Check-in: In your next fellowship with another brother, instead of asking "How is work?", ask: "What is one 'sheltered moment' (a blessing or a grace) you almost missed this week because you were too focused on the grind?"

Intentional Stillness: Consider starting your days with 2 minutes of absolute silence. In our local context, we are conditioned to be "efficient" and talk immediately. Forcing a "pause" before the day hits helps shift the focus from the ground to the Creator. (Or if you are a dad like myself, just say a quick prayer the moment you awake.)