There is an old Rabbinic story about a poor man who left the village of his birth, and set out to find the city of his dreams, where all was bright and perfect. After a day's walk he lay down to rest the night in a forest. Before going to sleep he removed his shoes and placed them carefully in the path, pointing them in the direction of his journey toward the magical city.

While he slept, a practical joker came along and turned his shoes around so that they pointed in the direction of the village he had left behind. The next morning, when the traveler awoke, he put on his shoes and headed down the path in the direction his shoes pointed. He walked all day and at dusk saw the city of his dreams in the distance. It looked strangely familiar and much smaller than he had imagined it would be. As he entered the village, so the story goes, he discovered a street very much like his own, knocked on the door of a house exactly like the one he had left, and was warmly received by his family inside his family, of course. With that the man lived happily ever after in the magical city of his dreams!

The point of that is, rather than transporting us from the problems of this life into some spiritual Eden, the favor of God is likely to turn our shoes around and send us back toward the familiar, with all its frustration and difficulty. We're not blessed with an escape from the harsh realities of life but are favored with a potential for a faith that can transform us in the midst of these realities.