I love living in the Napa Valley.

No matter the season, even when there’s nothing on the vines, the vineyards are always beautiful to look at.

In early spring, those mustard plants spring up and carpet the fields in eye-popping yellow.  
 
And I can never pass by those blooms without recalling a heartwarming story I once read about the color yellow.

A man living in a poor African country had some malady that made him blind from birth; and unbeknownst to him, his parents, and the village doctors, it was something that could be surgically corrected.

He was flown to a Western hospital, had the surgery, and his eyes were opened.
 
The interview was fascinating.

Among many questions, he was asked, “Of all the colors you now can see, which one is your favorite?”

I was surprised by his answer.

“Yellow,” he said, “it’s simply outrageous.”

I would’ve gone with red, myself, but then again, I wasn’t blind from birth.

And when I cycle past one of these fields in full bloom, I gotta admit, yellow can be pretty bodacious.

But there are perfectly-sighted people who drive past these perfectly stunning fields day-in and day-out, and don’t see outrageous yellow—they don’t notice the beauty.

Just because you have eyes, doesn’t mean you can see.

That’s what Jesus said.

After He opened the eyes of a man born blind, He told the Pharisees:

“I came into the world that the blind may see, and to show those who think they see, that actually, they’re (spiritually) blind” (John 9:39).

Even after Jesus opens our eyes, we need to cooperate with the Holy Spirit to keep “seeing” clearly. It’s a daily prayer.

I mean, look at the verse. It’s striking.

Here’s King David (whose spiritual eyes were already fully open) praying that God would open his eyes.

What’s that about?

Well, we have to continually ask because the default mechanism in our fallen human hearts is to go dark again—a few weeks without church, a few days without the Bible, a few days without the Word and the spiritual cataracts start to grow.

So King David’s praying, Oh Lord, keep on opening my eyes so I can keep on seeing the wonders of Your love and truth, afresh and anew.  

Each new day we need to see:

How much God loves us.
That our sins are forgiven.
That He’s for us, not against us.
That He’ll provides all our needs.

When we see these things, we live differently, don’t we?

And if we’re not able to see these wonder-filled truths, the quality of our lives is vastly diminished, and we forfeit the grace that could be ours.

Yes, Lord, open our eyes that we might see the wonderful things in Your Word:

Wisdom for the asking.
Strength for the weary.
Hope for the hopeless.
Comfort for the brokenhearted.
Rescue for the wayward.

The truth of God’s Word—fields of brilliant yellow—full of outrageous promises and stunning possibilities.

And wouldn’t it be a shame to drive past all that beauty and never even notice?