True Sight

Yesterday, I returned to the eye doctor to get my contact lenses fitted. I was excited, as the old ones were starting to get foggy by the end of the day. I would take the foggy mini goggles out as soon as I got home from work and wear my glasses the rest of the evening.

Back in the exam room, the assistant handed me my right contact lens.  After a few blinks, I could see perfectly.  Glorious!  Now the left eye. I inserted it and blinked and waited. Still fuzzy.

“It might take a few minutes.  The solution is rather thick,” the assistant informed me.

Okay. She left the room. I picked up an old People magazine and read about Jennifer Lopez’s twins and her newly single status. All very fascinating J-Lo updates. She’s taking this time to learn about being alone and on her own instead of with a guy. Great, great. We’re the same age and she’s worth millions.  Awesome.

The only problem with this scenario had to do with my left eye.  It never focused fully.  I couldn’t read the print on the page, not even about her new diet and exercise regime. I kept closing my right eye and willing the left eye to step up already.

The assistant came back in the room.  She tested both my eyes. She scribbled on my chart.  The doctor came in and had me read the letters projected on the wall. Dismal, that.

“Well,” he said, looking into my eyes.  “Both lenses fit well.  But your left eye has quite a different prescription than what we wrote down. You can wear them together…”

“The right eye is excellent,” I said, trying to stay positive.

“Great. We’re going to have to order another lens for you…”

This is where I tried not to grind my teeth. How did this happen?  Did I get it wrong when asked over and over again, “Which is clearer, this one or this one?”

No. This added up to yet another small annoyance on the pile growing in the back of my mind. I had to take off work to get to the appointment.  Now I’d have to do it again next week.

Sometimes life is like that.  It’s not the big things, the crises, that get us down.  It’s Ms. Lopez’s glamorous life, and ability to dodge aging. It’s the broken shoelace, the spilled coffee, cat barf on your bed and missing the bus, all clumped together into a ball of frustration.

I laced up for an early morning run.  My eyes still don’t focus super great together. Yet as I stepped outside into the fresh, cold morning, I felt alive. I ran and pondered how God takes care of even the least of these things for me and I can let them go into His hands for safekeeping. I can shuck them like dirty clothes and put on praise.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever. – Psalm 107:1


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