Tears have a way of clouding the vision. Often they make you want to close your eyes. They can become your sole focus as you concentrate on them flowing down your cheeks. But the word of God tells me this morning to look through the tears. Not to be ashamed of them . . . not suppress them . . . not ignore them . . . not pretend they never happened . . . but to look through them.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the Founder and Perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider Him who endured from sinners such hostility against Himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” (Hebrews 12:1-3 ESV)

Perhaps I’m taking it a bit out of context . . . but not too much, I think. For the previous 40 verses in chapter 11 I’ve been reminded of a host of saints who walked their walks by faith. Who stepped out in faith . . . who suffered in faith . . . who showed up everyday in faith. And, in light of such a “great cloud of witnesses”, I’m encouraged to “run with endurance” the race before me. Not a sprint, as I’ve been so frequently reminded . . . but a marathon. Though sometimes it’s run on nicely groomed, even tracks . . . other times it’s more like a mountainous cross-country trail with very limited ability to see what’s around the bend. Sometimes, it’s just plain hard. So hard, it brings you to tears. That’s when I need to look through the tears . . .

Looking to Jesus . . . turning my eyes away from other things and fixing them on Him alone.

He is the Founder and Perfect of my faith . . . the Lamb who purchased this lost soul with His own blood . . . the Shepherd who sought and found this lost sheep . . . the Risen Christ who, even now, is at the right hand of the God making intercession for me and those I feebly attempt to bring before the throne of grace. Look to Jesus . . . turn your eyes on Him . . . through the tears.

Consider Him . . . think Him over . . . ponder Him . . . focus on Him.

Consider His race . . . humbly coming to His own, yet rejected . . . a perfect man, yet condemned as a criminal . . . without sin, yet made sin for me. And so, He endured the cross . . . made nothing of the shame . . . all because of the joy that was set before Him. He too looked through His tears to the Father, saying, “Nevertheless not My will, but Yours be done.” Consider Him . . . through the tears.

Look to Jesus . . . consider Him . . . so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. Tears have a way of draining you. Looking through them . . . and seeing Jesus . . . has a way of reviving you. Maybe it doesn’t seem enough of a boost for the entire marathon, but it’s enough for the next leg . . . the day before you.

Father, I would see Jesus . . . through the tears . . . by Your grace . . . and for Your glory . . . amen.