“Do you have a table with a view?”

Have you ever asked that?

Millions of travelers seek out the best seats in restaurants because of the views—a Pacific sunset, the Eiffel Tower, a city skyline, a lakeside table. The Rainbow Room in Niagara Falls is famous for its fabulous panorama; and the Volcano House dining room in Hawaii offers floor-to-ceiling windows so diners can enjoy their pineapple-wrapped island fish while watching orange streaks belching from the volcano’s steam vents.

But what about the servers, cooks, busboys, and staff? They work in these places every day, tending to their responsibilities and seldom glance at the wondrous sights on the other side of the plate glass. They become accustomed to them, desensitized to the wonders around them.

“It must be incredible to work in a place with such a view!” we say.

“Oh, I don’t really notice it anymore,” they reply, rushing off to refill everyone’s drinks and clear away the salad plates.

We’re all like that. If we see an incredible site only once in our lifetime, we’re filled with awe. We snap dozens of pictures to remember the moment and share it with friends. But when we see the same wonder day after day and year after year, we’re apt to become accustomed to it.

Could it be that way with our faith in Christ? Is it possible to get into such a routine—hearing the same truths over and over—that we lose our sense of wonder? Have you ever found yourself singing a great hymn—say, “Amazing Grace”—and its truth no longer feels amazing to you?

The children of Israel had the presence of God with them as a cloud by day and a fire by night, yet they muttered, murmured, and forgot He could lead them into the Promised Land. They were missing the obvious.

The patriarch Jacob thought he was isolated in a lonely desert, then he awoke from a vivid dream, proclaiming, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it” (Genesis 28:16). He too had missed the obvious.

In a similar way, the two disciples of Emmaus walked seven miles alongside a stranger without realizing He was Jesus! In their case, it was because He withheld the knowledge from them. But imagine their joy at the moment of realization when, as He broke bread at supper, they saw Him! And then they saw Him vanish!

Talk about a table with a view!

Let’s reclaim that sensation—the euphoria, the enthusiasm, the awe of knowing Jesus is near, at the table, as close as can be. God connects with us in many different ways and through many different means, but we must never take Him for granted.

The Bible says, “Remember His marvelous works which He has done, His wonders, and the judgments of His mouth” (Psalm 105:5).

It takes a childlike heart to keep a sense of wonder and awe. The late Ravi Zacharias once said, “The tragedy with growing up is not that we lose childishness in its simplicity, but that we lose childlikeness in its sublimity.”

Matthew 8:27 says, “So the men marveled, saying, ‘Who can this be, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?’”

Everything about our Lord is marvelous—meaning we should marvel whenever we think of Him. Someone said that a growing Christian is someone who never loses his marvels!

In this edition of Turning Points, I want to set a table for you, reminding you of how near Jesus is. How obvious. He is ready to surprise us in the simplicity of our everyday lives. Sometimes we miss the obvious—the wonders of creation around us; the incredibly complex and creative way He made us; the friends and community around us; and the circumstances before us.

Yet, there He is—in all these things, in all these ways.

Those are the things we’ll explore in this magazine. It won’t be a cryptic journey. It’ll be a table with a view. And by the time you finish the last article, I hope you’ll say like the bride in Solomon’s great song:

He escorts me to the banquet hall; it’s obvious how much he loves me.

Song of Solomon 2:4, NLT