Several years ago, not long after our oldest son received his driver’s license, we found the whole family in the same vicinity in two separate vehicles. Stopping to gas up both automobiles, I moved to ride in my husband’s truck. Handing the keys to our 17-year-old, I gave him instructions to follow behind us. He was to transport all four boys down the street where we would meet for lunch. Completing payment at the pump, I saw our van pull away from the station, cross three lanes of traffic, and stop at the light.

Concluding that our children had jumped the gun, deserted the plan, and were now heading away from us, I alerted my husband to “follow that van” and we set out in hot pursuit. As my husband followed several car lengths behind, we crossed the interstate, took the on-ramp, and merged into traffic heading out of state, away from our originally intended destination. My husband concentrated on trying to catch up to the silver Honda Odyssey barreling away from us faster and faster, while I frantically hit the call button on my cell phone over and over. Frustrated that my son was not answering his phone, I prayed that we wouldn’t miss them getting off on an exit as we began to lose sight of them speeding away from us.

“Where are they going?” “What are they doing?” “Why aren’t they answering?” and “How will we find them?” were fearful questions I launched as we prayed and pursued.

Finally, my cell phone rang, my oldest son’s face illuminating the screen. “Where are you?” I yelled into the phone. “Back at the gas station,” my son replied. “We watched you pull away and go the opposite direction than we discussed. I wasn’t sure what to do, so we have been waiting for you to call. I just realized my phone was off because I don’t use it when I drive.”

In my overprotective parent mode, I had only noticed a vehicle similar to our own and unwisely convinced my husband to follow it. The result was that he sped away while I babbled in near hysteria to urge him to stay as close as possible to the wrong target. Good intentions in this situation did not stop us from going the wrong direction.

Jesus illustrates a similar scenario in Matt. 13, often referred to as the parable of the sower. In this story, Jesus tells of four outcomes to the same action. The word of God is sown much like seeds are scattered for the purpose of planting. One group never gets it. Of the other three who do, two fall away. From these two, one group allows the worries of the world and the material things of this life to distract. The result is devastating.

It is possible for people to worry about the cares of this life, take their eyes off Jesus, and fall away. What begins as a legitimate concern must not become our focus.

My failure to fully assess my surroundings led me to accidentally rush away from my children. As I think about spiritual applications, it reminds me of the writer of Hebrews urging Christians to follow the example Christ set. Amidst times that might cause disorientation, we are reminded to remain constant and to persevere.

A caveat in this passage is one that I find particularly helpful. The language in Heb. 12:2 describes running a race. After encouraging the reader to “run with perseverance,” the writer calls for “fixing our eyes on Jesus” (NASB) or “keeping our eyes on Jesus” (NLT).

In today’s world, there are so many directions to go. But we are not told to follow a similar make, model, or message. We are to look only at Jesus. We must take the time to slow down, look closely, and make sure that our eyes are fixed firmly on him. Rather than allowing ourselves to be distracted by the worries and cares of this world, we must keep Jesus in our sights. Once we have ensured that we have our eyes fixed on the proper target, then we can follow with perseverance.