Removing The Clouds That Obscure The Son Series

Imagine waking up after one of those rare, perfect nights of sleep. You feel rested. Clear. Strong. Alive. You rise from bed with energy in your step. There’s a quiet joy in your heart. You find yourself humming without even realizing it. The day ahead feels full of possibility. Your goals seem attainable. Your spirit feels light. Then you step outside. Instead of a wide blue sky and golden sunlight, you are met with thick layers of gray stretching from horizon to horizon. The sky feels lowered — pressed down. The light is dull and flat. The colors of creation seem muted, as if someone drained the vibrancy from the world. The air feels heavy. Damp and still. And slowly — almost imperceptibly — your optimism fades. It is as though the same clouds that obscure the beauty of the sky begin to drift into your mind. The plans that felt so vibrant when you awoke now seem distant. The joy dulls. The energy slows.

You are no longer thinking about thriving —

you are thinking about surviving.

Your step shortens.

Your vision narrows.

The day feels smaller.

But here is the truth:

The sun has not weakened.

Its brilliance has not faded.

Its warmth has not diminished.

It is still shining with full intensity —

it is simply hidden behind the clouds.

And that is why clouds are such a powerful spiritual picture.

There are days — perhaps many days — when we do not feel close to God.

Our worship feels dull.

Our prayers feel heavy.

Our joy feels muted.

But the Son has not dimmed.

His glory has not faded.

His presence has not been withdrawn.

The problem is not the absence of the Son — it is the presence of clouds. Unlike the clouds in the sky, which we cannot move, the spiritual clouds that obscure our view of Christ can be removed.

When we chase after what is not eternal…

when we harbor sin in secret…

when we allow competing loves to crowd our hearts…

Clouds move in. And slowly, the radiance of the Son — who shines infinitely brighter than our physical sun — becomes obscured.

Today, we are going to identify those clouds. Because the clouds of sin do not have to linger. They dissipate in the light of repentance. They scatter in the wind of confession. We were not called to live under gray skies. We were called to walk in the light. Today, we remove the clouds — so that we may see the Son clearly again.

The Cloud of Busyness and Distraction

One of the greatest enemies of feeling the fire of God’s presence is not rebellion — it is distraction. Luke 10:38–42 tells us that when Jesus entered a village, a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. It was an extraordinary honor. To host a rabbi — a teacher sent from God — was a privilege. Hospitality in that culture was sacred. So Martha did what any devoted host would do. She hurried. She prepared. She served. She set the table. She arranged the room. She cooked the meal. She labored to make everything perfect. Her activity was not sinful. It was admirable. It was culturally expected. It was even loving.

But it became a cloud.

While Martha moved frantically from task to task, her sister Mary did something unexpected. She sat at Jesus’ feet — the posture of a disciple. She listened intently. She absorbed every word. She was not distracted by performance; she was consumed with presence. She was not serving the Master; she was submitting to Him. She desired not to impress Him, but to be fed by Him. Martha finally reached her breaking point and said, “Lord, don’t You care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself?”

And Jesus gently answered:

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed — indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Notice what Jesus does not rebuke: service. Notice what He does rebuke: anxiety, distraction, misplaced priority. Martha was in the same house as Jesus — yet missing His presence.

Busyness had formed a cloud.

We live in a fallen world like fish swimming in water — rarely aware of the currents pulling us. Jesus warned in the Parable of the Sower that the seed of the Word is often “choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures” (Luke 8:14). Not destroyed — choked. Slowly suffocated. We are commanded to “seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness” (Matthew 6:33), yet too often we resemble the Rich Young Ruler who walked away sorrowful because he could not release his grip on earthly security (Mark 10:22).