November 18th, 2025 Devotional

💧 Living Water Devotional – Tuesday, November 19, 2025

“Fix Your Eyes” — The Story of Robert Raikes and the Fight Against Distraction

Last night, as we were finally pulling into our driveway—nearly twenty-four hours after planes, layovers, trams, trains, shuttles, and the long drive over Vail Pass at two in the morning—I sat there thinking, What a day. What a trip. And honestly… what a reminder of how easy it is to get distracted.

It took me back to when I first started mountain biking years ago. I was riding along this canyon rim, and every five feet I had to stop because I was terrified I’d go over the edge. My father-in-law finally looked back at me and said:

“Never look at the edge. Never look at the danger.

Only look where your tire is about to roll.

Where your eyes are fixed… that’s where you’ll go.”

And you know what? He was right.

Your bike follows your eyes.

Your life follows your eyes.

Your faith follows your eyes.

And that’s exactly what Hebrews 12 tells us:

“…let us throw off everything that hinders… and let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.”

— Hebrews 12:1–2

I’ll be honest with you. As a pastor, one of my biggest battles has always been distraction—especially the distraction of performance. In my early ministry years, I measured everything. How many water bottles we handed out. How many hot dogs. How many people came. How much we did. I thought the more I did, the more pleased God was with me.

But Paul says something completely different:

“…that you may know Him and the immeasurable greatness of His power toward us who believe.”

— Ephesians 1:19

Not “know your results.”

Not “know your numbers.”

Not “know your outcomes.”

Know Him.

Know His power.

Know His heart.

Know His presence.

And today, God used the story of a man named Robert Raikes to remind me just how easy it is to live a life full of good works… but not full of Jesus.

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📘 The Story of Robert Raikes — The Reformer Who Didn’t Yet Know Christ

Robert Raikes never set out to change the world. He wasn’t a pastor or an evangelist. He was a wealthy newspaper publisher in Gloucester, England. He inherited money, property, and The Gloucester Journal from his father. He lived a comfortable life in a beautiful home.

But Raikes hated injustice. He hated cruelty. And back in the 1700s, justice was almost nonexistent. Prisoners were beaten, chained, starved, and forgotten. The jail was a living nightmare.

Raikes began writing fiery editorials demanding reform. People hated him for it—especially those who ran the prison. But he didn’t stop. Eventually, the city was forced to improve conditions and start educational programs inside the jail. Raikes felt proud. He believed he was making the world better. And he was.

But he did not yet know Christ.

Meanwhile, Gloucester was exploding because of the Industrial Revolution. Factories filled with smoke. Streets filled with filth. And children—some as young as six—were working twelve-hour days, six days a week. No school. No childhood. No love. No guidance.

So on Sundays, the only day off, these kids poured into the streets like wild armies—dirty, angry, violent, and abandoned. They stole, cursed, beat one another, and terrorized neighborhoods.

And the churches?

They wanted nothing to do with them.

Too loud.

Too filthy.

Too sinful.

Too “worldly.”

One woman said, “They’re vermin. They’re taking over the city.”

Raikes couldn’t shake what he saw. He kept thinking, These aren’t criminals. They’re children.

He tried writing an editorial, but all he could put on paper was one word: try.

Try what?

He didn’t know.

Then one day at the jail he had helped reform, he saw men behaving better—because someone had taught them. And he thought, If grown men can change with structure and love… could children change too?

He went home and looked at his own ten kids—polite, educated, respectful—not because they were inherently better, but because they were taught. They were valued. They were loved.

A spark lit inside him.

He found a building in the filthiest part of town, Sooty Alley. He hired a teacher. He paid for clothes, food, and lessons. And because Sunday was the only available time, he opened one of the world’s first Sunday Schools.

But not like ours.

It wasn’t church.

It wasn’t worship.

It wasn’t discipleship.

It was reading, washing, manners, and eventually Bible reading.

Most churches hated it.

They said it violated the Sabbath.

Some said it was worldly, even “dangerous.”

Many thought the kids were too far gone.

But Raikes pressed on. And within months, everything changed. Streets grew quiet. Crime dropped. Children stopped roaming in violent packs.

Still, Raikes did not know Jesus.

He was doing all this good…

all this ministry…

all this change…

without a relationship with Christ.

Until one day.

He visited a school and heard a little girl reading Isaiah 53:

“He was wounded for our transgressions…”

Her voice shook. Her eyes filled with tears. She wasn’t reading words—she was meeting a Savior.

And as she spoke, something happened to Raikes. It was as if he was hearing the gospel for the first time. The Christ he had spoken of only as a moral example suddenly became the suffering Lamb who took away the sins of the world.

The prophecy of Isaiah 53 collided with the promise of John 3:16:

“For God so loved the world…”

Raikes realized:

It wasn’t his discipline that changed the children.

It wasn’t his programs.

It wasn’t his rules.

It wasn’t his rewards.

It was Jesus.

Jesus in the Scriptures.

Jesus in the classroom.

Jesus through the heart of a child.

And right there, the great reformer himself was reformed.

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❤️ Bringing It Home

Driving over Vail Pass last night at two in the morning… I thought about distractions.

How easy it is to start doing things for Jesus without even looking at Jesus.

Just like I did in my early ministry.

Just like Raikes did for years.

Just like all of us can do without even realizing it.

Life gets loud.

The world gets busy.

Our minds get cluttered.

Our ministries get measured.

And slowly, our eyes drift from the Savior to the edge of the canyon.

Hebrews 12 says:

“Fix your eyes on Jesus.”

Not on performance.

Not on danger.

Not on results.

Not on numbers.

Just Him.

The Author.

The Finisher.

The One who began the work.

The One who is faithful to complete it.

And today, that is God’s gentle reminder to us.

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🙏 Reflection Questions

1. Where have my eyes drifted—toward distraction, performance, fear, or comparison?

2. Have I been doing things for God without actually walking closely with God?

3. What is one thing I need to “throw off” so I can fix my eyes more fully on Jesus this week?

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🎵 Worship Song of the Day

“Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus” — Shane & Shane

A perfect reminder that “the things of earth grow strangely dim” in the light of His glory and grace.