vision check

B...P...C...O...D...F

(crap...is that really an F? is it a P? But I already read a P. Maybe they're trying to trick us by putting two...oh crap, maybe my vision has become worse...)

I've had glasses since second grade, contacts since seventh. Annual eye doctor appointments are always a test of my ability to read those tiny letters from a distance and try not to over think my answers. (The worst that can happen is my prescription is upped. Somehow that is not motivation enough to just relax and read the letters.)

Oh, mercy, fall on me
like a warm blanket on my cold, cold heart
clean me with your blood that turns me white...on the inside
I'm on my knees again 'cause I'm breaking your heart

The first vision test, they let you wear your contacts. Normal, everyday vision used to read the letters on the poster. An instinctive means of gathering information that the contact lenses make possible every single day.

Then the contacts have to be removed- and everything is blurry. Shapes instead of distinct figures. Blobs where there once were sharp lines. I always hate this part the most. The sitting and waiting and conversing aren't the problem- it's having to do all of these things while feeling blind and squint-y.

Put in me what I cannot buy with gold
Put in me, Oh God, come restore my broken soul
Put in me what I cannot give myself
Put in me...a clean heart

And then it's time for the second reading of the letters chart. Lenses slipped in front of your blurry eyes to test if you need this kind of prescription or this or this. Is this better or worse? Next lens. Better or worse?

I know all my broken places like the back of my hand
that slapped your face again
wash me with your love and hold me tight like a baby
'till I have no memory of ever breaking your heart

Looking at the coming months feels a bit like sitting blurry-eyed in the optometrist's chair. Details of the coming months vague. Plans flexible. Schedules loose if even existent. Shapes in the place of distinct figures.

And the question is not if I need glasses or contacts, because there's not a doubt in my mind that I can't see the world as the Lord desires me to see it unless he gives me the eyes (the lenses) to see.

The question is how often I let my human nature cloud my vision. How often I let the muck of the world change how I see my brothers and sisters, how I see the earth, how I see life and love and service.

And I think I'm seeing clearly, I think my vision is perfect, because the change is slow, gradual, a daily altering of my worldview.

But then the Lord gently takes my contacts out, shows me the blurry nature of my vision and asks me to seek his face.

To let go of the details, the plans, the clarity of thinking I know something.
To let Him give me vision, not the world.
To let Him show me my broken places and to heal.
To let the blurry-ness lead me to my knees, to prayer, to wholeness.


and in the joy when you restore me
I will stand and walk again
I will run into this world I will call them to come in
but I will not point my finger or grow that wicked skin
that cannot remember what I will not forget
how I broke you, or how I'm broken

Put in me what I cannot buy with gold
Put in me, Oh God, come restore my broken soul
Put in me what I cannot give myself
Put in me...a clean heart

-lyrics from "Put in Me" by Enter the Worship Circle, First Circle