The Value of Vision
Where Sight Becomes Substance
Scripture: "Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he." (Proverbs 29:18)
I was walking through the streets of Akasia last week—you know the place, where the dust of Pretoria North meets the determination of people who refuse to be forgotten. And as I stood at the intersection of Daan De Wet Nel Drive and the road that leads to the shopping centre, I watched the taxis hooting, the vendors selling their airtime and oranges, the mothers walking children to school. And a thought struck me like a stone from a sling: What do these people see when they look at tomorrow?
You see, my friend, vision is not a business buzzword you learn at a workshop in Sandton. It is not a vision board you cut from magazines while listening to motivational speakers who charge five thousand rand for a weekend. Vision is the difference between surviving and thriving. Vision is what separates the man who digs in the dust from the man who builds a city upon it.
Let us define our terms clearly. Vision, in the biblical sense, is not merely eyesight. It is revelation—a God-given picture of a future that does not yet exist but will exist because you refuse to let it remain invisible. The Hebrew word in our text is chazon, which means a prophetic sight, a divine download of what can be when God's people align themselves with God's purposes.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking. You are sitting in your lounge in Soshanguve, or Mamelodi, or Winterveld, and you are saying, "Harold, you don't understand. I have been setback so many times I have lost count. I applied for that job three times. I started that business twice. My marriage is hanging by a thread thinner than a church mouse's shoelace. Don't talk to me about vision. I am just trying to survive until the end of the month."
I hear you. I was you. Let me tell you a story.
My Own Dusty Road
Fifteen years ago, I was sitting in a one-room flat in the heart of Akasia—the kind of place where you could hear your neighbour's arguments and smell their supper and wonder if God had misplaced your address. I had been retrenched from a company I had served for eleven years. Eleven years. And they let me go like yesterday's newspaper. My wife looked at me with eyes that were not angry but confused. She had married a man with vision, and now she was living with a man who stared at the ceiling at 3 AM wondering if the ceiling was about to fall on him.
I remember one Tuesday—it was a Tuesday because the dustbin trucks came that day and their noise was the only alarm clock I could afford—I lay on that second-hand couch and I said to God, "What is the point? Where is the vision You promised? I have been faithful. I have served in the church. I have paid my tithes. I have kept the law. And here I am, a man without a map, a pilot without a plane."
And I swear to you, as I lay there in that moment of self-pity so thick you could spread it on bread, I heard something. Not a voice like thunder. Not an angel with trumpets. But a whisper that rearranged my insides: "You have not lost your vision, Harold. You have lost your picture."
Do you understand the difference? Vision is not a memory of what used to be. Vision is a preview of what shall be. And I had been looking backward so long that my neck had stiffened. I was rehearsing my redundancy when I should have been rehearsing my restoration. I was replaying the failure when I should have been receiving the future.
So I got up from that couch—and I mean this literally—I got up, I went to the sink, I splashed water on my face, and I said aloud to no one but myself and God, "I will see myself restored before I am restored. I will see myself prosperous before I am prosperous. I will see myself serving again before the pulpit is even built."
That was the turning point. Not when the money came. Not when the opportunity arrived. But when I got my picture back.
The South African Context: Where Vision Is Under Attack
Let us be honest with ourselves. We live in a nation where vision is under siege. Our young people see the headlines—the unemployment rate that hovers like a vulture over our graduates, the load shedding that reminds us daily that the lights can go out without warning, the news of the National Health Insurance debates that leave us wondering what care will look like for our grandmothers in Limpopo and our cousins in the Eastern Cape.
Just this past week, I read about another young entrepreneur in Soweto whose spaza shop was looted—not by strangers, but by people in his own community. And I thought to myself, What does that young man see when he closes his eyes? Does he see ashes, or does he see opportunity?
The enemy knows something about vision that we often forget: Attack is the proof that your enemy anticipates your success. Did you catch that? If you were no threat to darkness, darkness would leave you alone. The fact that your setback has blurred your vision is evidence that your enemy saw what God was about to do and tried to blind you before you could see it.
I am reminded of the story of Samson. You remember him—the man with the strength and the weakness for women who were bad for him. When they put out his eyes, do you think the Philistines were celebrating his blindness? No. They were trying to kill his vision. But here is what is beautiful: Samson died seeing more than he ever saw with his eyes. He saw the pillars that would bring down the house. He saw the destruction of his enemies. He saw that the last chapter was not written by the blind man but by the God who sees.
Let me give you a logical argument, because reason itself serves the kingdom:
Premise One: God is a God of revelation, and He reveals His purposes to His people through vision.
Premise Two: When a person loses vision, they lose direction, motivation, and hope.
Premise Three: The enemy attacks vision because he understands that vision is the incubator of victory.
Conclusion: Therefore, the intensity of the attack on your vision is directly proportional to the magnitude of what God intends to do through you.
A common objection is this: "Harold, you are overspiritualising poverty. Some people have no vision because they have no opportunity. You cannot see what you have never been shown." I hear that objection, but I must lovingly dismantle it. Opportunity is not the parent of vision; vision is the parent of opportunity. Joseph saw himself ruling before he was sold into slavery. David saw himself with a giant's head before he picked up a stone. The woman with the issue of blood saw herself touching the hem before she pushed through the crowd. Vision always precedes manifestation. Always.
The War on Imagination
Let us sound the alarm against a subtle error that has crept into our pews and our homes. There is a teaching—I hesitate to call it Christian—that suggests we should not imagine our future, that we should simply "trust God" without picturing what God has promised. This is not faith; this is laziness dressed in spiritual clothing. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. How can you hope for what you cannot picture? How can you have evidence for what you cannot imagine?
I am not speaking of the prosperity gospel that tells you to name it and claim it as if God were a vending machine in the church foyer. That is not vision; that is greed in a suit. But I am speaking of the biblical principle that what you see is what you become. God asked Abraham to look at the stars and the sand—not to count them, but to see them as his descendants. God told Jeremiah, "What do you see?" before He told him what He would do. Jesus asked the blind man, "What do you see?" before He laid hands on him a second time.
Here is a truth that will set you free: Your destiny is decoded in your daily habits, but your daily habits are directed by your dominant vision. What you see repeatedly, you will move toward relentlessly. What you picture persistently, you will pursue consistently.
I have a practice—and I share it with you not as a formula but as a principle. Every morning before I open my eyes, I say this: "Lord, show me what You see when You look at me." And then I wait. And in that waiting, He gives me a picture. Sometimes it is a picture of me teaching, and the room is full, and the people are weeping. Sometimes it is a picture of me writing, and the pen is moving, and the words are alive. Sometimes it is a picture of me standing in places I have never been, speaking to people I have never met. I take that picture, and I hold it, and I let it pull me forward into the day.
The VAT of Vision
Now, you might be wondering what the recent VAT increase debate has to do with vision. I am getting there. In South Africa right now, we are arguing about two percentage points. Two percent. And the argument is not wrong—when the cost of bread goes up, the cost of dignity goes up with it. But I want to suggest something to you: The value added by vision is always greater than the value added by government.
Let me explain. The government can give you a grant, but only vision can give you a business. The government can build you a house, but only vision can build you a home. The government can provide a job, but only vision can provide a legacy. I am not dismissing the role of the state; I am elevating the role of the spirit. We are people who have been given the mind of Christ, and the mind of Christ sees what does not yet exist and calls it into being.
Imagine, if you will, two families in the same township. Both have the same challenges: unemployment, limited resources, a system that seems designed to keep them at the bottom. Family A watches television, complains about the government, and waits for someone to rescue them. Family B gathers around the table and says, "What can we build? What can we create? What picture does God have for our family?" Which family do you think will tell a different story in five years? Vision is not a luxury; it is the difference between being a victim of your circumstances and a victor over them.
The Anchor of Scripture
Let me anchor this firmly in the Word. Our text says, "Where there is no vision, the people perish." The word perish here is the Hebrew para, which means to be let loose, to be unrestrained, to go wild like a horse without a bridle or a nation without a leader. Without vision, we become undisciplined, directionless, destructive. We chase anything that moves because we have no target of our own. We marry the wrong people, take the wrong jobs, invest in the wrong ventures—not because we are foolish, but because we have no picture to guide our choices.
But the second half of the verse gives us the cure: "but he that keepeth the law, happy is he." Notice the connection. Vision and law are not opposites. Vision is the what; law is the how. Vision is the destination; law is the daily discipline that gets you there. You cannot have vision without law—without the boundaries, the habits, the obedience that keep you on the path. And you cannot keep the law without vision—without the picture of why you are staying faithful when faithfulness seems fruitless.
This is why I am careful to say: Vision is not a substitute for obedience; vision is the fuel for obedience. When you see where you are going, you can endure where you are standing. When you see the crown, you can carry the cross. When you see the harvest, you can do the hard work of the planting.
A Call to Action
So, what must you do? I am a practical man, and I will give you practical steps.
First, get alone with God. Not in a crowd, not in a service, not in a conference. Get alone. Turn off the phone. Turn off the television. Turn off the voice that tells you what you cannot do. And ask God: "What do You see?" Wait. Listen. Write down what comes. Do not dismiss it as your imagination. Your imagination is the workshop where the Holy Spirit builds your future.
Second, get a picture. Not a vague idea, not a general sense of "things will get better." Get a specific picture. See the job. See the business. See the restored marriage. See the healed body. See the ministry. Find an image that represents that picture—a photo, a drawing, a word on a card—and put it where you will see it every day. Let it pull you forward when your feelings try to drag you backward.
Third, get a plan. Vision without execution is hallucination. What will you do today to move toward that picture? What habits must you start? What relationships must you nurture? What knowledge must you acquire? Write it down. Make it measurable. And then do it—not when you feel like it, but because you have seen where you are going.
Fourth, get a community. Surround yourself with people who see what you see. There are dream-killers everywhere—people who will tell you it cannot be done, it has never been done, you are not the one to do it. You do not need their permission; you need their absence. Find the ones who sharpen you, who pray with you, who push you toward your picture.
Fifth, get back up when you fall. Vision does not mean you will not stumble. It means you know where you are going when you get back up. Peter sank when he took his eyes off Jesus, but he did not sink forever. He got back in the boat, and Jesus still used him. Your setback has not cancelled your vision; it has tested it. If you still see the picture, you are still in the race.
The God Who Sees
Let me close with this. The name God gave Hagar in the wilderness was El Roi—the God who sees. She was running, she was lost, she was alone, and she discovered that she was seen. My friend, you are seen. Not just in your success, but in your struggle. Not just in your comeback, but in your setback. And the One who sees you is the One who shows you.
Jesus Christ, the Author and Finisher of our faith, endured the cross—do you know why? For the joy that was set before Him. He saw something. He had a picture. He saw you. He saw me. He saw the church. He saw the kingdom. And that picture carried Him through the pain. If the Son of God needed vision to endure, how much more do you and I?
I am Harold Mawela, writing to you from Akasia, Pretoria, where the dust is real and the hope is realer. I do not know what picture you have lost. I do not know what disappointment has dimmed your sight. But I know the God who restores sight to the blind—not just physical sight, but the sight that sees what God is doing when everything says He is doing nothing.
Get your picture back. Let it pull you forward. And watch what God will do with a person who knows where they are going.
Prayer
Heavenly Father, El Roi, the God who sees me in my wilderness and shows me my promised land, I ask You today to sharpen my sight. Let Your vision vanish my vacuum of despair. I have been looking at my setbacks longer than I have been looking at my comebacks. I have been rehearsing my failures more than I have been receiving my future. Today, I receive a new picture—a vision from Your throne, a preview of what You are about to do. Let it pull me forward. Let it fuel my faith. Let it energize my effort. Let it sustain my persistence. I will not perish for lack of vision. I will keep Your law, and I will be happy. In the name of Jesus Christ, who saw the cross and endured it, and saw the crown and secured it, I pray. Amen.
Go in peace. Keep the picture. Live the vision.
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-value-of-vision/id1506692775?i=1000757448471
Comments
Post a Comment