I have glaucoma.

I’ve had glaucoma for almost 8 years now. Glaucoma, I used to think, was for old people. Certainly not for a 45 year old. That’s how old I was when I was diagnosed. Glaucoma runs in families. Thanks, daddy.

8 years of daily eye drops, frequent pressure checks and visual field studies. And 2 years ago I had my first surgery after the drops couldn’t control the pressure any longer.

It’s a disease that makes you always fixated on your eyes; because you know that you are at risk for losing your sight. The drug companies certainly know that therefore a tiny bottle of eye drops cost hundreds of dollars. Robbery.

And of course there is the fear factor. Whenever I hear phrases like “through a glass dimly” or “as the light began to fade” I get edgy.

I don’t know what the future holds with my eyes.

I’ve said before that I wish that God would crack open the door of the future for just a little glimpse. A hint of things to come. It would have been such a handy asset for my Type A personality: How many children would I have had…that they would be all boys (so that I could prepare myself for not having a daughter and quit fretting with each pregnancy)? Would I ever get to move back to south and root for my beloved Tennessee Vols in a land where loving orange wasn’t weird? What friends would stand by me, thick or thin (and I’m not talking waist lines here!) so I would know who to invest my life in to avoid being hurt.

One of the best people in my life is a guy that I met while I was in college in Tennessee, working at the church camp where his dad was the dean. He was an annoying 8 year old, who liked to splash me in the pool. Grrrr.

He grew up to become an amazing pastor and family man. He didn’t stay in Tennessee-he moved to Maryland. He became a pastor at my church, living 4 miles from us. He poured his youth ministry into my 3 boys, at times crossing over into the realm of being a big brother to each of them. He preached at my oldest son’s ordination and has forever a place in our lives.

How come I couldn’t have known that back when he was 8?

I wrote a letter to this precious man on his 30^th birthday—If I Had Only Known was the theme of my letter. The things I would have done differently, if I had only known back then what I knew now. I would have played happily in the pool with him, bought him a Coke at the canteen, and gone out of my way to start paying with kindness, on the debt that was coming my way.

Hindsight is 20/20.

In the Bible, God says:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways” Isaiah 55:8

That explains it. Sort of.

As much I would love a glimpse into the future, I have learned to trust the Lord to know what is best for me. When I think about being able to look ahead—I think only of the good things that I would be anticipating happily with hands outstretched ready to grab a hold of me some goodness!

But what about the other parts of life? God is good-He protects us from knowing the hardship ahead-the cancer diagnosis, the failed marriage, the terminally ill son or the accident that cripples forever. For me, the possibility of losing my eyesight. Knowing those life events would be waiting around the bend would rob of us of all potential joy in the day we were living.

Jesus says:

Do not worry about your life….who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matt. 6: 25…34

If I can learn not to worry about what might happen, and quit thinking about all the possible scenarios that could change my world, I might relax and enjoy the journey a little more. I might be able to see God’s dealings with this world a little clearer. Whether I choose to trust Him or not, my times are in His hands. Yours are too.

Corrie Tem Boom wrote a poem that beautifully illustrates trusting God with what we cannot see:

Life Is But a Weaving

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.
Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not ’til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned
He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.

The last line, “He gives the very best to those who leave the choice to Him” is a gentle reminder to live with open hands, take the good and the bad and trust God to be there all along.

Thank God that I can only see today clearly.

It has to be enough.

Blessings,
Stephanie