Road trips before iPads led to some deep questions.

Ever notice that the closer things are, the bigger they look? As a kid I played with this a lot, especially on car rides. I grew up before handheld electronics, and I got carsick if I tried to read or draw, so my only option was staring out the window. Why does the fence alongside the highway fly by, and the telephone poles further away move slower, while the distant mountains hardly move at all? If the sun really is millions of times bigger than the Earth, how come I can cover it with one hand?

It’s fun to block out a tall building or a giant tree with just a thumb, or pretend to hold the moon between your fingers. My one little hand can block out a whole landscape, block my view entirely, if I hold it close enough to my face.

The problem starts, as all my problems do, in the six-inch space between my ears. I’m restless, irritable, and discontent, and I think the cause is Out There. I think it’s you, or circumstances, or my job, or those people, or that situation. And I hold that problem close–so close that it blocks my view of everything else.

It’s not crazy enough that I’m obsessing over my unhappiness, or clinging to it as if I needed it, or even making it part of my identity. The worst thing I do to myself in holding my problems close is that they block my view of my Higher Power.

God as I understand Him now is big. BIG. Bigger than me, bigger than my disease, bigger than whatever Everest-sized problem I face. Not only that, but He loves me. (Listen to Mark H. from AA describe his Higher Power!) He’s way bigger than the vending-machine, lucky-charm god I brought with me into the rooms.

So why do I even HAVE problems, if I have a great big Higher Power Who loves me completely? Perspective.

If I’m holding my problems closer than I hold God, they will appear bigger than Him. Just like I can blot out a tall building or a telephone pole with my thumb if I hold it close enough to my face, I can totally block the sunshine of His love by focusing on the things I’m putting between us.

I used to think that all the miracles had someone else’s name on them. Finding God was a huge, elaborate Easter egg hunt where only the lucky few got anything. Now I suspect that the only way I can avoid God is to actively hide from Him. I spent my life wedged into a dark corner of a windowless room, sunglasses on, complaining that the sun never shines where I live. All I have to do to live in my Higher Power’s care is to come out into the light.

That means putting Him front and center, holding Him closer than anything. Am I willing to really let Him be in charge, to put Him in the pilot’s seat? Can I loosen my grip on the things that are blocking my view–my fears, my control, my sick desire to hold onto victim status, my self-centeredness? When I stand as close to Him as I can, He’s big enough to handle all of it. And little by little, one day at a time, I am restored.

Then the beautiful promise of the Suggested Opening starts to come alive: “As we learn to place our problem in its true perspective, it loses its power to dominate our thoughts and our lives.”

Keep coming back!