I got ahead of myself a few days ago (as I am prone to do) and announced that my new glasses were finally a perfect fit.
Not so much . . .
After five days of wearing them, I developed a non-stop headache, eyestrain and an aversion to reading. While it's true I could see better overall--I had more clarity than with my old pair of specs--I felt like I was always straining to focus. My optician had informed me there would be an adjustment period, but I felt my vision was getting worse as the week went on.
Two days ago, I figured out why--Greg was driving down 205 and I found myself wanting to just shut my eyes and rest them from the relentless strain of trying to bring my surroundings in to focus. For whatever reason, I just shut my left eye. I could see quite clearly--could read the traffic signs that were zooming by. Then I shut my right eye--life became blurred again.
This was a problem . . .
But at least I had somewhat of an explanation to my vision issues--that was a relief. What stressed me out was the thought of having to go back to the optician, tell him yet again that the glasses didn't work for me and have the 30-something young pup tell me his measurements were correct--my eyes were the problem!
Tell me about it!
So, the night after my revelation, I tossed and turned and complained to God about my optical state of affairs. I had made dozens of trips to that office over the past 6 1/2 months, paid out over $1,000 for my glasses, had numerous exams/fittings and still no satisfaction. The worst part was I could see the office girls flinch when I walked in the clinic. Even though I'd been agreeable and patient throughout this ordeal (I brought them a plate of cookies before Christmas), they were no happier to see me than I was to be there. And Darren, the condescending optical technician, was really beginning to irritate me.
I hate conflict/confrontation and just the thought of having to state my case--that I still couldn't see because the left eye was blurry--brought me great anxiety. I already knew what Darren would say (the measurements from your prescription are perfect!). I had no faith that the optical lab would ever be able to get my prescription accurately made. I thought about just cancelling the whole process and getting a refund--but had no clue where to go for help. I actually got out of bed and googled speciality opthamaologists in Portland. I found the Casey Eye Institute at OHSU, which calmed me down enough to go back to bed.
Still quite anxious about going back to the clinic, I just flat out asked God to heal my vision. Jesus had healed people blind from birth--my sorry eyes were no match for His power! But as I prayed, He spoke to me. And my spiritual vision cleared up in the blink of an eye.
Basically, what He said was this: Did it ever cross you little mind that I might care more about Darren's soul than I do about your 20/20 vision? That perphaps these bizarre delays have been a part of My plan to give him spiritual sight? Does he see Me in you? Do the office girls hear Me in your interactions with Darren? Are you willing to march back into that office tomorrow and just let Me work through you and your weak eyes? And doesn't your "life verse" have to do with glorying in your weakness so that the power of Christ can rest on you? Hmmmm?
Seriously, like a dark blind going up on a sunny day, I got it. I felt a smidge of the Lord's heart for Darren. I got a peek at His divine perspective on my situation. My anxiety over returning to the office vanished as I realized it would not be about me confronting Darren. It would be about Jesus loving on him--through me.
And I acknowleged that my eyes were ultimately in God's hands, not Darren's, which quieted my heart enough for me to finally get some sleep . . .
So I did go back to the eye clinic yesterday afternoon. Darren was not happy to see me and argued briefly that I should be able to see better than I was reporting. I stayed calm and positive and asked for a recheck with the eye doctor, which Darren reluctantly agreed to. I felt Christ's peace, His compassion for Darren, His great desire to be at work in all aspects of my life--especially in that clinic. It was a completely different experience than I'd originally expected! And the office girls were even smiling when I said goodbye (Darren, not so much . . .)
So, the eye saga continues, but now it feels like some grand story Jesus is writing, with me, Darren and the office girls as part of the plot. I have no idea what twists the action will take during my recheck on Thursday, but I will ask Jesus to just put His words in my mouth and His grace in my heart.
Stay tuned . . .