Friday, September 20, 2013

I've lost my vision.

I can't see out of my left eye.  I have been struggling with it for over a year and I'm sick of it.  It began a year ago in June when I was misdiagnosed as having had Shingles in my eye.  When diagnosed, I dutifully began steroid drops and hoped for the best.  After a week of no progress and worsening vision, I sought out a second opinion. By that time a scar had formed on my cornea and I had bigger issues.  Six bottles of drops later, multiple trips to various eye doctors, and numerous cries out to God, it finally began to heal and vision began to come back to my eye last October. 

Things were better, for a while, but sometimes you don't know you've taken the first step back into a room until you are already inside.  I've crossed the threshold and I'm back into the foggy world of limited vision in my left eye.  It had been creeping up on me for a few months.  I knew things were distorted and when looking into a large crowd it was getting increasingly difficult to see clearly.  I hate to admit weakness and ask for help.  I begrudgingly knew I needed to take the first step back onto the path of healing. 

It's arrogant of me to call it a step really.  You see my optometrist is a great friend who knows me well and is familiar with my stall tactics.  Here is how my cry for help went....I was standing on the curb at church when she was picking her son up from youth group.  I leaned into her car window and made small talk, briefly got caught up on the status of her week, and casually mentioned in a very loose fashion, at the tail end of our conversation, that "I'm having trouble seeing."  Ugh...the cat was out of the bag.

I'm not really sure what I expected her to say, perhaps an invite to call the office?  Maybe offer some free vision advice?  Who knows where my head was...you see I rarely let my guard down and ask for help and I was immediately furious at myself for letting it trickle out.  As I pulled in the garage at home and dropped my bags on the counter, my phone began to buzz.  The text message that I read offered me two appointment options for the next day.  Really?? Whose optometrist texts her at 9:45pm with appointment times.  Thankfully, mine does. 

After more stalling, I responded and trudged into her office the next day.  She met me at the door with a huge hug and smile.  She never questioned my slow response to calling the office and she didn't chastise me for waiting so long.  She loved me and told me how glad she was that I was there.  I left the office with new prescriptions, a plan of attack and another appointment card for next week.  I have no doubt that if I fail to make the appointment or am even bold enough (or dumb enough) to cancel it, she will show up at my house.  She has me figured out and my excuses about not having time or putting others first won't fly with her.

My dear eye doctor's grace-filled approach is a "skin on" example of the way God greets us upon return to Him.  If you've been wandering or are in denial about your need for Him, don't deny Him based on a fear that He will chastise you or turn you away.  He longs to help heal your heart and love you   As I begin the uphill climb of adding 12 drops a day to my cloudy eye, I know that God offers soul healing that promises so much more than 20/20 vision.  Open your eyes to Him today.