Can You See Me Now?

I have put off the inevitable long enough. Before my diagnosis I was having trouble reading. With the heavy demands of seminary assignments, I would invariably end up with double and sometimes triple vision after wading through chapters and chapters of tiny text. I was just about to schedule an appointment when the diagnosis came.

Then I worried that the double vision might be the result of some swollen gland pressing on my optic nerve. The further I progressed with treatment, the more unstable my vision became. I mentioned it to my doctor who recommended I see an eye specialist, but I was so weary I never followed through. Would I lose my sight? I cannot imagine struggling to adjust to blindness.

Now, on the other side of chemo and radiation, my vision has slowly stabilized. I think all the internal effects are played out and this is how I really am! And I cannot read the fine print. I haven't had a lot of episodes of double vision, but my arms are not long enough to hold books and medicine bottles far enough away for me to comfortably read that teeny print.

What are those manufacturers thinking?? Surely they know that most people who take their medicine are old and visually challenged! Couldn't they adjust their instructions to be at least legible? Well, I have run out of excuses. I determine to take care of it today. Still I procrastinate. Why am I so reticent to have my eyes examined?

I take my time leaving the apartment and run some errands. Then I dawdle at the mall, poking about. Finally I drag myself to the glasses place and inquire about getting an exam. They want me to book a time and come back. I know that I will not do it if I don't do it now, so I ask if they have anything today. The receptionist is surprised to see that there is an opening in ten minutes. She pencils me in and calls my insurance company.

I wander around checking out the styles. Nothing too drastically different. The woman next to me is holding several dozen frames, waving them about, talking a thousand miles a minute and putting on one pair after another. Wow. Too crazy for me. I move to the next rack. My face hasn't changed that much in four years. Surely something similar to what I have will work.

I discover I prefer the men's frames. Much simpler and basic. The women's frames are colorful, unique, styled, twisted, thick, thin, curly, huge, tiny, white, red, purple, blue, silver, gold, bronze - yikes! And designer names, oh my. Vera Bradley to Saks and everywhere in between. Good Lord.

I gravitate to a display in the center of the store and discover a frame that seems to fit me just right. I note their spot just as I hear my name called. The doctor is a quiet Asian man who mostly points to the characters on the wall while switching stuff around. "Do you know you have astigmatism?"

"Yes."

"You need only a strengthening of your reading prescription."

I could have told him that. He places the trial lenses in front of my eyes and voila! The world becomes clear. How like my studies at the seminary. It becomes so clear that all my life I have looked at faith through someone else's lenses! They were not right for me. Things were blurry and out of focus. But the classes at the seminary have presented many different points of view.

I have tried them on one at a time like flipping the lenses at the eye doctors. Is this better, or this? Do you agree with this theology or this? Is the text clearer with this lens or this one? Do you understand Jesus' actions better from this perspective or this one? Enlightening.

Just as it took the eye doctor a few dozen tries to find the perfect fit, so it has taken the reading of a few dozen theologians for me to better understand what I thought I believed and why I have always been uncomfortable with certain aspects of the faith as presented to me in my childhood and adolescent years.

I suspect some of my teachers have been seeing through blurry lenses for years, never knowing the clarity that could be theirs, blinding following what they were taught, wearing their teacher's glasses of faith. I am delighted for the opportunity to find my own prescription both in physical glasses in and beliefs.

My grand daughter once thought that if she closed her eyes and covered them with her hands, no one could see her because she couldn't see them. It was a wonderful way to play peekaboo. Once I get my glasses, maybe I too will see others more clearly and be less likely to think myself inconspicuous when in fact I am in plain view.

Truth is, God has always seen me whether I am closing my eyes, seeing through a fog, or squinting at the truth. I haven't always seen him well. Once my faith is clearer to me, seen through the lens of faith that's right for my vision needs, I will realize that and be able to see God more clearly. I won't need to ask God "Can you see me?" because I will be able to see that He is indeed looking at me.

My glasses will be ready in a week or so. Let's hope my faith will be ready by the time I am crossing Jordan!