Jeff Keeling, Associate Editor
By Jeff Keeling
I woke this morning and completed a routine I have done almost every day for more than 30 years now. I removed a small plastic container from the medicine cabinet, unscrewed one receptacle – the one on the right, always the one on the right – and removed a clear, soft plastic disc.
After spraying the disc with a stream of “multipurpose solution,” I placed it on my right index finger, lifted my right upper eyelid with my left index finger, lowered my lower eyelid with my right middle finger, and stuck that plastic onto my eyeball.
I repeated the process with my left eye, the lovely and talented Angela no longer looked like some blob moving around across the room. She’d been transformed into the lovely vision that I knew her to be.
Our gracious, vivacious staff writer, Sarah Colson, woke up this morning and was able to look across a room and see clearly. It’s been that way for her since Friday, when she had laser vision correction surgery. She was able to behold her husband of seven months, the handsome, fit and diligent Jonathan, without an interim of blurriness.
Even with her eyes still recovering from the surgery’s trauma, Sarah says she’s greatly pleased with the results. A persistent blepharitis (dry eyes) had plagued her since the spring of 2014, making it impossible for her to wear contacts. At just 22, she was a perfect candidate for the surgery, and I’m happy she has years of clear vision ahead before her arms get shorter and she has to start stocking up on reading glasses at the dollar stores.
Now and then over the past 20 years, the thought of laser surgery has crossed my mind. I’ve been fortunate, though, to have a trouble-free contact-wearing run of three decades. Putting them in and taking them out is second nature, so at my age, I’m in for the long haul.
Post-surgery for Sarah, then, the two of us have lost a commonality. But when it comes to true sight, we still share the same outlook. When it comes to navigating this complex world and the lives we live in it, we walk in a joy springing from assurance based not on what we can see, but on who is watching over and guiding us.
We believe that, “faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” We believe this universe “was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.” As we can, “we live by faith, not by sight,” knowing that, “for now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now (we) know in part; then (we) shall know fully, even as (we are) fully known.”
It’s a joyful bond open to all, a very present help in time of trouble, which has, does and will come. We are thankful for Paul’s prayer for the saints in Ephesus and know it is for us too: “that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you…”
