Following up on a reminder to remember, let me tell you this story.
“What would we do if that happened in our family?” my son asked. A book he read for a school assignment upset him. It was the story of a girl who became blind.
“First we would cry,” I told him. “Then we would make adjustments and help her to live life as best she could.”
That was an inadequate answer. I had more to learn. A few weeks later our daughter, his younger sister, went blind.
A case of pink eye, combined with side-effects of medication for another condition and the use of contact lens I told her not to wear, but should have confiscated, turned into a raging infection. I didn’t realize how serious it was until one morning, a couple of weeks before Christmas, she screamed that she couldn’t open her eyes because of pain. We took her to the hospital still thinking she was overacting a bit when the ophthalmologist told us she was admitting her. She had “fried her corneas” and faced serious scarring that meant she would probably lose her eyesight permanently.
The doctor was not nice about it. She yelled at us in the hallway in front of patients and staff, berating our parenting ability and accusing us of negligence. I was terrified and filled with guilt. Not only could my precious child go blind, but it was my fault!
The next few days were agony for all of us. Our daughter was placed in a small windowless room near the nurses’ station on the children’s ward. Anyone who visited her was also essentially blind, since any light caused her great pain. Every hour, day and night, a nurse entered and administered painful drops, which, we didn’t know at the time, she was allergic to. Her condition deteriorated.
“First we cry,” was entirely inadequate for the situation. “First we weep and wail and throw up,” was more like it. Of course, we tried to not let her see – or rather hear – our reaction. We tried to maintain a positive attitude around her, even when the doctor told her there was no way she was going home for Christmas. She would be spending it in the dark, stuffy room.
Of course, we prayed, but it was more and more difficult to maintain any kind of faith with every new negative report. But God…
“There was someone in my room last night, Mom,” she said when I came in early in the morning.
“It was probably a nurse, or hospital staff,” I said.
“No. I always know when the door opens because the light in the hall hurts and besides, they always talk to me. This felt different. The door didn’t open. It was just there. I felt, I don’t know, a presence.”
I assumed painkillers caused her to hallucinate.
Then the doctor came in. She was shocked. Our daughters’ eyes were much better. There was no sign of infection and inflammation and swelling were fading. She remained in hospital a couple more days to make sure, but she came home for Christmas.
Today she is a teacher and artist – a professional photographer who depends on keen eyesight. She was told she would never be able to wear contacts or have laser surgery for near-sightedness, but that prognosis was not fulfilled either. Now, she doesn’t even wear glasses. When doctors predicted her husband would die of necrotizing fasciitis, she had faith and hope beyond any logical scientific limitations. An encounter with the Healer opened her heart to possibilities she never imagined. It opened our hearts as well.
Here is where I was wrong. I told my son that if such a thing ever happened in our family, we would try to find ways to cope. Even though I grew up in the church and heard all the stories in the Bible about how Jesus healed people, I didn’t know he still heals. The best we could reasonably expect was help in learning to cope.
I know, the first yeah-but that comes to mind is the question about why many people who pray are not healed. I don’t know. All I know is that people who believe The Healer is part of who God wants to show himself to be for us see a lot more miracles and healings than people who have lost hope. People who rejoice in his goodness are free to live in hope – and hope frees us to live without limits.
God is good.
6 thoughts on “Then Shall the Eyes of the Blind Be Opened”
Wow, what a testimony!!
I was surprised when I realized I haven’t written about it before, that I can remember. On weeks like this, it’s good to remember how the Lord has always been faithful.
Charis, I love how God our Healer deals with our unbelief. He warms us with his love, brings abundant life and his light casts out all darkness. So grateful and thankful for the stripes of Jesus that heal and deliver us from sickness and dead religion. It is wonderful that your daughter is following her calling for professional photography, teaching and being an artist. God is so GOOD! He comes to us in loving kindness, bringing hope and heals us of everything including religion and unbelief. Thank you for sharing your awesome testimony! Abundant blessings!!! Hazel
His light casts out all darkness! Yes!
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Your story brought tears to my eyes. God taught you through your children. Thank you for sharing it.
Thank you for taking time to comment, Mary! He often teaches me through children. They are so precious to him.