"My Father's Eyes"

"You have your father's eyes."  Every once in a while my mom would say that to me.  And I was always proud when she did, knowing that in my eyes she could see the man she fell in love with.  My dad.  A man I hardly remember, since he died when I was so young.  I can still hear those words today being spoken in a voice that's been silent for too long.  But as I write this, those words take on a new meaning.  Yes, I inherited my father's eyes.   But I also inherited "a complicated eye disease in which damage to the optic nerve leads to progressive, irreversible vision loss", called Glaucoma.  It is the leading cause of blindness in African-Americans.  And while it can be treated and slowed down, there is no cure.  So you'll understand when I say that the echo of those words today, "You have your father's eyes", leads me to consider the darkness . . .

No, I'm not afraid of the dark.  But to me, the eye is the bridge to knowing when to hear, and where to feel, and why to taste, and what to smell.  To me, the eye is not only the window, but the very door that leads to knowing.  Therefore, being given the choice, I would rather lose my sense of hearing, sense of touch, and sense of taste, along with my sense of smell, than to lose my sense of sight.  That is, had I been given the choice.  But I wasn't.  I was given something different . . .

"The things God showed me were so great. But to keep me from being too full of pride because of seeing these things, I have been given trouble in my body. It was sent from Satan to hurt me. It keeps me from being too proud."  [2 Corinthians 12:7 (NLV)]

By no means have I led a boring life.  Since the day I gave my life to Christ, I've been to amazing places, met amazing people, and seen and done amazing things.  None of which I could have experienced outside of God's love for me.  As I served Him, He somehow saw to it that my wildest dreams were fulfilled.  And though at times I felt like I had earned it, I really had not.  Every good thing that came to me came by grace.  HIS grace.  But that"earned-it" thought still visited me from time to time.  Maybe that's why the Apostle Paul visits me today, mentoring me with those words found in 2 Corinthians 12:7.  Maybe Glaucoma is MY "thorn in the flesh".  And if so, I'll say "Amen".  I choose to yet praise Him.  Why?  Because God has been too good to me.  And when I say He's been good, understand that He's been "gooder" than that!  If for the rest of my life He does nothing else for me, I could not survive a single day without praising Him for what He has already done, and for what I know He is still able and willing to do!

"I am not saying I need anything. I have learned to be happy with whatever I have. I know how to get along with little and how to live when I have much. I have learned the secret of being happy at all times. If I am full of food and have all I need, I am happy. If I am hungry and need more, I am happy." [Philippians 4:11-12 (NLV)]

"You have your father's eyes."  Yeah . . . So sometimes I find myself just sitting with those eyes closed and simply listening to the world around me.  And in doing so, I've come to realize one thing that blindness does- it removes all conscious and unconscious judgement that tends to attach itself to sight.  So as I find myself slowly moving into blindness, and thinking of all the things I will miss seeing, I do not spend that time worrying or being angry at God for the years I will have to live without seeing the world.  Instead, I thank Him and I praise Him for the years He's given me to enjoy the world.

"Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me.  And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." [2 Corinthians 12:8-9 (NKJV)]

So as I continue on this walk through life, I realize that every sunrise and sunset, every morning and evening, every tree and flower, every raindrop and snowflake, every bird and bee, every street and sidewalk, every sunny and cloudy day, every sheep and goat, every cow and horse, every male and female, and every one of you . . . everything seems to look so much better to me.  Everyone and everything seems to mean so much more . . .

And maybe that's the true revelation.  Maybe for me it's another gift of grace, if you will, from God.  Not that I'm gradually moving into blindness, but that I'm gradually moving into a position to truly see the world as HE sees it.  And that's a revelation that I will cherish as I complete this life's journey . . . with the gift of My Father's Eyes . . .  (vsm 01/2013)

"My Father's Eyes"