Give me eyes to see.

You never plan to hear bad news. Life feels normal until it's not anymore. For years I have had a hard time seeing at night. I thought it was because I have blue eyes or because I am not 20 anymore. I mentioned it casually to doctors along the way but nothing came of it other than some glasses for night driving. Fast forward to December of '18 and things started to change. I was tripping over stuff, running into my kids in the daytime, not seeing a child laying on the floor when I walked in the room. I noticed it was worse but again didn't think a thing of it. Until John did. And he said maybe an appointment would be good. So I get an appointment and think I'll just hear this is aging, you need glasses. I saw the panic rise in the doctors eyes as I failed test after test. I saw her perplexed look with how to tell me. More tests, calling in an ultrasound, needing to call in other doctors to look at scans. I figured things were getting serious. But when I pressed her for what she thought was going on I did not expect to hear potential brain tumor or genetic disorder leading to blindness. No one expects that on a Thursday.

Days swirled by while I waited to get in with a specialist. Only 6 of them, but it felt like 26. Anticipation was the major emotion, accompanied with a lot of peace amongst a few nagging 'what if's'. I knew God had walked me this far, he had been with me in Congo at my lowest of lows, he had been with me when I rolled my child back for surgery, or held my child grieving her past. I imagined having a conversation with God. If he asked me, "If you could go blind or have a brain tumor and the result would be people trusting me for the first time, your kids learning what dependence on me looks like, you finally focusing on what is eternal and not just seen, would you let me do it?" My resounding answer was yes. Now God did not ask this of me audibly I don't think, this was just my stream of consciousness. But all of it to say, I would GLADLY walk a hard road if it meant the result is closeness with Jesus. He promises trials in this world, there is no reason to be surprised by it, even if it is bad news on a Thursday morning.   But those 6 days did a lot in my heart. I put in concrete what I had always wondered: the words I would utter when suffering struck close to home. I trust you God, You are still good no matter what my circumstance is. I want to walk in your purposes and not just my own conveniences. You are worth the hard road. I want closeness with you more than I want comfort and ease. I've typed these things before, even on this blog, but now I was faced with a deeper question: if I believed in darkness what I said in the light.

6 days later, a cold Wednesday in January came and John and I saw the specialist. Many more tests, flashing lights, dark rooms, scans and pictures. Her face looked serious when she walked in with the results. She asked if I understood why I was there, what I had been seen for before, previous symptoms, each question getting more startling and alarmed, her tone growing serious with each second that passed. She explained in vague terms how the eye works when its healthy, only her voice insinuating the opposite for me. She explained how I had something from the day I was conceived, written into the fabric of my being, in and with me every day since. I felt a strange feeling, relief, comfort, preparedness, peace. I did ask her finally what she was talking about. A degenerative (progressively worsening) genetic eye disorder that  results in loss of sight (Retinitis Pigmentosa). She showed me pictures of where my peripheral vision is gone and can't be repaired (the black areas in the picture below) and she also explained things in this field are moving quickly with research and gene therapies even though no treatment is available yet. She explained blindness happens by first losing night vision, then peripheral until its tunnel vision and then tunnel closes, but you can still distinguish light from dark. I’ve currently lost 58% of my vision in one eye and 42% in the other. 

It was definitely a lot to take in but John and I felt calm. She even asked us, twice, how were we taking it so well and how were we so calm. There's really only one reason.

We grieve, with hope. We suffer, with purpose. We may feel alone and overwhelmed but we are most certainly not. A God who knit every strand of my DNA together, even this strand, knew this all along. And he waited in his grace until we were ready to show us one step at a time. That doesn't mean I haven't had thoughts of how not driving will be a challenge, or how not seeing my grandchildren with my eyes is sad, or how life will be with a physical challenge, but I am confident. Confident that he who began a good work in me will see it through to completion (Philippians 1:6). I am confident that he will work all these things together for my good and for his purposes (Romans 8:28). I know that in my suffering that he will give me an abundance of joy as his glory is revealed along this path (1 Peter 4:13). I am comforted as we walk this road and I know he will comfort others through the way I endure (2 Corinthians 1:4). I know this may be a time of grieving and hardship, and there will be more to come, but I know no circumstance can take away the joy I cling to in Christ, he will listen to my requests and make my joy complete in Him, not in the removal of the circumstance (John 16: 22-24). 

John and I talked that night about how life may be different but that God is constant and we are a team. I told him how I can now see how God ordained it all along that it was his grace that I got married young and had children young and had gotten to see my kids grow and experience life with them. All God's graces I do not deserve. 

The next day came and it was another meeting with another specialist. On the way to the appointment I received a call from the orthopedic I had taken my oldest to the night before. He explained that the rib we had X-rayed was not broken, but another one was previously broken but already healing. He continued, "Has your daughter ever had problems with her heart before?" No, not this. My heart sank. He explained on the X-ray they noticed her heart looked abnormal, a part of her heart was enlarged and that can be dangerous. I passed the information off to John and walked into my next eye appointment. I don't even remember the route I took to get to the Eye center. My mind was a flurry of information and questions and concerns. I prayed. I asked for help, for healing, for peace. I walked into the waiting room and was called back to see another Physician who assists the genetic specialist. He again took new scans and confirmed the diagnosis. He showed me the damage already done. I asked how quickly will this progress, how much time of sight do I have left. He answered "I am a man of faith and I believe God has ordained each step for you. This is not in your hands and you do not need to worry about it". I had asked for peace and He gave it, I asked for comfort and He gave it. This doctor proceeded to answer all of my questions and asked if he could pray with me. He prayed confidently that God entrusted this to me and will use it for his purposes, he asked that I take every opportunity to use it for my good and the good of others, he echoed my words that my confidence cannot be shaken, it is in the God who created the universe and every fiber of my being. Why should I be afraid when that God is by my side? 

That same day as the eye appointment and the call about my daughter, my sweet uncle passed away. A random trip and fall in a parking lot led to a bleed in the brain and he is now meeting Jesus face to face.
It has been one thing after another these two days. An overwhelming sadness and an imperturbable peace. This world is not my home. We were made for another. This life is temporary. We are not guaranteed tomorrow. 

I don't know if it was an error by the radiologist reading Reese's X-ray or the Lord answered my prayer of healing my daughter's heart, but today the cardiologist and radiologist could not find the enlarged artery, all was functioning normally. I am beyond amazed. 

What a week it has been. Have there been days where I have eaten an entire bowl of Jello Pudding? Yes:) Moments when I am sad that I may not get to see a child walk a stage or an aisle? Yes. But I have had a solid group of dear friends praying for me, holding up my arms, praying when I am too tired to, and giving me space to verbally vomit and point me back to truth. But not in a Christian cliche' way, no, in the pit with me, yanking me out, and spurring me on. 

I'm letting you in on my journey, as I process, as I pray, as I experience the ups and downs. I don't want attention or sympathy, but I want Jesus to be on display. I am sad at times but I am not afraid. I do not put my trust in things seen.  I do not know how all of this will play out for me as far as timing goes, but I know how my story ends. Jesus is still on the throne. 

It has been a whirlwind 8 days. And then I remembered a few weeks before all of this, when life felt normal and I was praying through what 2019 would hold. I scribbled down these notes as I journaled on 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 

"God help me not trust in things SEEN. Help me fix my thoughts and affections and trust on the eternal un-changing you. Not the easy quick-fix or temporarily beautiful. Lead my thoughts, desires and attention to you and your kingdom coming, not insulating my own kingdom that is literally dying. I want more of you and less of me. I want a faith that trusts you at every turn and EYES that focus on you."

You see the Lord heard that prayer on January 9th, 2019. I didn't know anything that was to come the following days but he did. He is answering it, in ways beyond my imagination. He is helping me to not trust the seen. He is helping me fix my gaze and attention on what is unchanging. He is slowly prying the kingdom I wrap my fingers around out of my hands and reminding me where I have been all along. He is showing me that my days are short and to live for what matters eternally. He is helping me to experience and grow a deep rooted faith that will trust him at every turn. He is giving me eyes that see him and focus on him. I'll keep taking each next step, eyes fixed on him.