This morning I woke up on the couch at 6:00. Yes, I slept there all night. No, Bri and I are not fighting. I fell asleep there while watching a movie with Bri and never woke up. So I climbed off the couch and tripped in the dark over furniture and slippers into the kitchen to begin my morning, my eyes screaming at me the entire time.
For those of you that don’t know, I have a double eye infection. The chemo caused chronic dry eye and it flares up upon occasion with tearing and running and redness. All the tearing gave me a pretty healthy infection in my eyes, and my left eye is the worst. By each evening, the pain is unbearable and not only does my eye ache and tear, my head roars.
I took my drops this morning, after which I am to keep my eyes closed for 2 minutes. So I sat quiet in my chair in the den. I heard the crackle of the fire and felt it’s warmth. I heard the pitter patter of rain on the roof. I heard the humming of the refrigerator. I heard cars drive by and Molly, our neighbor’s dog, bark outside. I heard my Bella-girl upstairs humming and playing.
I heard but I could not see, and I thought about what it would be like to be in this darkness constantly.
What would it be like to trip over furniture and slippers? What would it be like to hear the crackle of a fire and feel it’s heat but never see it’s deathly beauty? What would it be like to hear rain and the rustle of leaves, to feel the wetness and the crunch underfoot, but never see the glorious color of fall? What would it be like to pet a dog or ride in a car, but never see the excitement of a happy hound or drive a car on my own?
What would it be like to never see the face of my children? my husband? my parents? my friends?
And the tears from my infection turned to tears of gratitude for sight and for perspective.
Eyes to see all that God has given.
Eyes to see beauty and wonder and glory.
Eyes to see love.
And In reminding me of all there is to see, He also reminded me of faith:
The sight of my soul.
And it is a beautiful view.
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