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Eye of the Needle

 Eye of the Needle

Ever hear the phrase “the eye of the needle”? I had. Lots of times. But I never really got it. I thought it was like the “eye of the storm,” or the “evil eye,” or maybe “eye of the tiger”- you know, inspirational, terrifying, or both. Turns out, it’s none of those. Turns out…it’s a gate.

Every morning I walk my two dogs into the woods. There’s a big metal gate blocking the path- probably to keep nitwits from doing donuts or hosting unsanctioned monster truck rallies. To the right, there’s a tiny entrance. Tight. If I didn’t lose some weight, I’d be stuck like a sausage in a Tupperware lid. I could walk around, but poison ivy is basically a welcoming committee. So I hold my breath, suck in my gut, let the dogs go first, and shimmy through.

It’s humbling. Exhausting. And teaches you something instantly: you cannot bring all your crap with you. No backpacks of grudges, no overpacked ambitions, no emotional luggage. Just you. And maybe your phone, because some things are non-negotiable.

That, my friends, is the eye of the needle.

At Mass recently, the priest talked about it. Jesus says it’s hard for a rich man to enter the Kingdom. Scholars debate: some say He meant humans can’t do it alone; salvation is impossible without God. Others say the eye of the needle was an actual tiny gate in Jerusalem. Camels had to kneel, unload their baggage, and shimmy through- humble themselves. Either way, the point is the same: to get in, you gotta let go.

Me? I have my own version. Messier, more personal, slightly sarcastic. For me, the eye of the needle is this: if you want to become the best version of yourself, you have to unpack your crap. Every old grudge, shame, fear, and albatross around your neck- you drop it. Leave it at the door. Throw it into a ditch. Burn it. Smash it with a shoe. I don’t care. Just release it.

Walk through the needle. Walk small, humble, forward. Shed the old skin like a snake. Stop dragging yesterday around like a dead raccoon you insist on carrying in a backpack.

Because here’s the thing: God is cheering. Not from a balcony. Right beside you, whispering: “I see you. You made it. You chose courage. You chose light.”

And on the other side of the needle? Everything shifts. Not magically, not perfectly. But your spine straightens. Your heart gets lighter. Your hands are free. And the world- your world- finally feels big enough for the version of you God has been waiting for all along.

The gate is small. The camel is huge. And you are bigger than you think.

But if you’re willing to shed what weighs you down, God will get you through. 

And when you finally step through, you realize the Kingdom isn’t a place at all- it’s the freedom of walking unburdened, exactly as you were meant to be.


“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” 


     -Isaiah 41:10
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