🌿 The Ball You Can’t Find
A Devotional About Trusting What We Cannot See
Opening Story
Piper heard the bounce of her favorite ball as it skipped across the backyard, and instantly her whole body lit up with excitement. Her ears shot forward, her tail wagged in wide, hopeful sweeps, and she trotted toward the sound with all the confidence of a dog who still believes she can chase anything. But once the ball settled into the grass, the world went quiet again. Piper lowered her nose, circling the same small patch of lawn, sniffing, searching, certain it had to be right there. I watched her wander just a few inches too far, bump gently into the garden border, pause, and try again with that determined little spirit her blind eyes can’t support. And in that moment — her longing, her confusion, her trust that the ball must be close — my heart ached with both love and recognition.
Spiritual Reflection
As I watched Piper searching the grass for a ball she couldn’t see, it struck me how familiar her struggle felt. She wasn’t lost. The ball wasn’t far. Nothing was actually missing — except her ability to see what was right in front of her. And in that quiet moment, I realized how often I do the very same thing with God. I circle the same patch of life, convinced that peace or direction or comfort must be just out of reach. I bump into the edges of my own understanding, pause, try again, and wonder why I can’t seem to find the One who promised never to leave me. It isn’t that God is distant. It’s that my eyes — clouded by worry, distraction, or my own assumptions — simply can’t see Him standing right there.
Piper kept searching, nose to the ground, trusting that if she just tried a little harder, she’d find what she was looking for. She couldn’t see the ball at all — not its color, not its shape, not even the direction it had rolled. But she could sense that I was near. Every few moments she’d pause, lift her head toward the sound of my voice, and then take a few more steps with renewed confidence. And as I watched her, it struck me that clarity isn’t a requirement for trust. Piper doesn’t need perfect vision to be led; she only needs to know I’m with her. In the same way, God never asks us to see everything clearly before we follow Him. He simply asks us to listen for His voice, to lean toward His presence, and to take the next small step in faith — even when the path ahead feels blurry.
Scripture Connection
As I watched Piper pause and lift her head toward the sound of my voice, I was reminded of the moments in Scripture when people stood in the very presence of God and still couldn’t see Him clearly. Mary Magdalene stood outside the empty tomb, weeping, convinced Jesus was gone forever — and yet He was standing right beside her. She didn’t recognize Him until He spoke her name. The disciples on the road to Emmaus walked with Jesus for miles, listening to Him teach, their hearts burning within them, and still they didn’t realize who He was until He broke the bread. Again and again, Scripture shows us that God’s nearness doesn’t depend on our ability to perceive it. He is present long before our eyes are opened. And like Piper trusting the sound of my voice more than her own limited sight, we are invited to trust the One who leads us even when our vision is clouded.
Personal Reflection
Watching Piper search for that ball has done something quiet in me. It’s reminded me that I’m not all that different from her. There are days when I feel like I’m circling the same patch of life, trying to make sense of things I can’t quite see, bumping into the edges of my own limitations. And yet, just like Piper trusts my presence even when her world is blurry, I’m learning to trust God in the places where my vision fails. Her simple, determined faith has become a mirror for my own — showing me that the story of my life isn’t built on how clearly I can see, but on how faithfully God leads. Piper may not know it, but she’s teaching me that faith isn’t something I muster up; it’s something I step into, one small, trusting movement at a time.
Deeper Reflection
There’s a quiet truth hidden in moments like this — a truth we rarely admit out loud. So much of our spiritual life is spent trying to “see better,” trying to understand what God is doing, trying to make sense of the path in front of us. We convince ourselves that if we could just get a clearer picture, we’d finally feel secure. But watching Piper, I realized that clarity isn’t the foundation of trust — presence is. She doesn’t need to see the ball to believe it’s real. She doesn’t need to see me to know I’m near. Her confidence doesn’t come from her eyes; it comes from her relationship with me.
And maybe that’s the deeper invitation God keeps whispering to us: Stop trying to see your way forward. Start trusting your way forward.
Because the truth is, our spiritual blindness isn’t a flaw God resents — it’s a place where His grace meets us. When we can’t see the next step, He becomes our guide. When we can’t make sense of what’s happening, He becomes our wisdom. When we can’t find what we’re searching for, He becomes the One who gently leads us toward it. Our lack of clarity doesn’t disqualify us from being led; it simply makes us more aware of the One who is leading.
Faith isn’t about having perfect sight — it’s about trusting the One who sees perfectly.
Closing Encouragement
In the end, Piper always finds her way — not because she can see the ball, but because she trusts the one who loves her. And maybe that’s the quiet invitation God offers us every day. We don’t have to see clearly to be led faithfully. We don’t have to understand everything to take the next step. We don’t have to have perfect vision to be held by perfect love. God is already beside us, already speaking our name, already guiding us with a tenderness we often miss in the moment. So if today feels blurry, uncertain, or confusing, take heart. The One who sees perfectly is leading you gently. And even when you can’t find what you’re searching for, He has already found you.
Closing Prayer
Lord,
Thank You for being near even when we cannot see clearly.
Open our hearts to trust Your presence more than our own understanding.
When life feels confusing or uncertain, remind us that You are already guiding our steps.
Teach us to listen for Your voice, to lean into Your love, and to walk forward in faith even when our vision is clouded.
Lead us gently, Lord, just as You always have.
And help us rest in the truth that we are never lost to You.
Amen.
