Dear friend and follower of Jesus,
You were not meant to live numbed by hurry or dulled by distraction—you were made to behold Jesus. To lift your eyes. To fix your gaze. To see and savor the beauty of the One who is altogether lovely.
“And we all, who with unveiled faces behold the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into His image with ever-increasing glory…” – 2 Corinthians 3:18
These are not the words of a distant deity demanding your attention. They are the tender invitation of a Bridegroom who wants you to see Him—to truly see Him. To look long and be changed.
A.W. Tozer once wrote:
“Faith is the gaze of a soul upon a saving God.”
To behold is not to glance—it is to gaze. It is not a quick nod in Jesus’ direction; it is a settled focus. A loving attention. It is the practice of turning your heart's eyes again and again to the One who holds all things together—and who holds you.
Beholding is how love grows.
It is how awe is rekindled.
It is how idols lose their shine and the world loosens its grip.
"We become what we worship."
When we behold Jesus—not just His power, but His person—we are re-formed by what we see. His gentleness softens our rough edges. His purity cleanses our desires. His compassion reshapes our motives.
Beholding is not about fixing your eyes on your performance, your pain, or your plans—it’s about fixing your eyes on Him. It is the practice of wonder in a distracted world. The discipline of adoration in an age of anxiety.
Brother Lawrence practiced the presence of God in the kitchen.
John the Beloved beheld Him at the table.
Isaiah saw Him high and lifted up.
Mary of Bethany sat at His feet, lost in love.
To behold is to say, “Jesus, I want to see You more clearly, love You more dearly, follow You more nearly.”
It is not effortful striving to understand everything. It is the surrendered stillness of looking at Him, letting the Holy Spirit open your eyes to His beauty and truth.
John Owen reminds us:
“The revelation of Christ... deserves the severest of our thoughts, the best of our meditations, and our utmost diligence in them.”
To behold Jesus is to treasure Him with your attention. To look into His Word not only for answers, but for glory. To see not just what He can do, but who He is.
It’s what Mary chose when she sat at His feet—not to perform, but to behold.
Richard Foster encourages:
"To worship is to see Jesus walking amid the lampstands."
Beholding often begins in Scripture—where the Word reveals the Word. As you read, don’t rush to apply or analyze. Linger on the character of Christ. Let His words pierce, His actions speak, His heart move you. Ask the Spirit, “What do You want me to see about Jesus here?”
It can also happen in worship. In silence. In the ache of longing or the joy of praise. You don’t have to generate the moment—just open your eyes and heart.
Brother Lawrence said:
“The time of business does not with me differ from the time of prayer… I possess God in as great tranquility as if I were upon my knees.”
Beholding is not limited to quiet moments in a church or journal. It happens in dishes and deadlines, in laughter and loss. It is a posture of the heart that says, “Jesus, let me see You here.” And when we look—He reveals Himself. Gently. Faithfully. Again and again.
To behold Jesus is to be undone by His beauty and remade by His love.
So today…
Gaze long.
Breathe deep.
Let Scripture show you His face.
Let worship open your eyes.
Let love awaken wonder.
Don’t rush past His presence—look.
You don’t have to manufacture transformation.
You simply have to behold.
See the Lamb who was slain.
See the King who is risen.
See the Friend who stays closer than a brother.
You don’t have to feel holy to behold Him—you just have to look.
Tired eyes can still gaze. Wandering hearts can still turn.
He is worthy of your attention. And He is looking back at you, full of grace and truth.
This is not a duty—it is a delight.
This is not a task—it is a treasure.
This is not performance—it is communion.
He is not only the goal of your faith—He is the glory along the way.
And He is near, even now.