The Canvas of Tomorrow Exemplo

Vision doesn’t focus on today, but on tomorrow—not on here, but on there. A vision is always bigger than what we can see, feel, and know right now. It calls forth our creativity and our tenacity. It’s always a bit awkward at first, but don’t worry—like the suits my mother bought us, you’ll grow into it. If you have a vision for what you can do today, it’s too small. A vision is not a self-portrait. It always requires the talent and resources of the Master.

Vision calls us to invest our time, energy, heart, and creativity. We’re “all in.” Visionary CEOs and pastors need to avoid the lethargy of too much contentment. But, you might ask, doesn’t a strong walk with God produce a sense of peace and contentment? Well, yes and no. Certainly, we’re content (more like thrilled!) that the grace of God is the sole foundation of our lives. And we’re content with the many blessings He has bestowed on us. But leaders live with a nagging sense of “holy discontent.” D. L. Moody wrote the following words next to Isaiah 6:8 in his Bible: “I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. What I can do, I ought to do, and what I ought to do, by the grace of God, I will do.” That’s the heart of a visionary.

Every genuine movement—spiritual, political, nonprofit organizations, or business—has two kinds of members: pioneers and settlers. Both are essential for the organization's long-term growth, but without pioneers, settlers have no new lands where they can move into and thrive. Visionaries are pioneers who are willing to go where no one else dares to go (at least not yet). Visionaries are willing to paint on the canvas of their tomorrow.

When Nehemiah arrived in Jerusalem, it wasn’t the first day the city had been in ruins, it wasn’t the first day the walls had been demolished, and it wasn’t the first day the gates had been burned with fire. The city had been devastated for decades, and God’s people had gotten used to it. Ezra had been given the task to rebuild the temple, but it would be vulnerable to another attack if the city didn’t have strong walls.

Nehemiah didn’t plan to call a city council meeting, and he didn’t meet with members of planning and zoning to ask for permits. He didn’t summon all the people to the square to tell them his plans and get them excited. He took only a few men on his tour. The route wasn’t new to these men. They knew every street and every turn. They could identify the neighborhoods and where the gates had been. The rubble was so deep that they had to abandon the animals they rode on and continue the climb on foot. 

After his thorough examination, Nehemiah was ready to share his plans with God’s demoralized people. He didn’t gloss over the problems, and he didn’t promise a quick, easy solution. He was both rigorously realistic and powerfully hopeful:

Then I said to them, “You see the distress that we are in, how Jerusalem lies waste, and its gates are burned with fire. Come and let us build the wall of Jerusalem, that we may no longer be a reproach.” And I told them of the hand of my God which had been good upon me, and also of the king’s words that he had spoken to me. ––Nehemiah 2:17-18