At some point in the decade following my 40th year, I realized that my eyes were not as strong as they once were. It’s now more difficult to wire up the back of an entertainment unit or attempt a repair on something in cramped spaces because I need more light to read the fine print labeling the connections. I have to take off my glasses or my contact lenses to see the things closest to me.
My eyes have quite an effect on my life. They always have.
In Grade 7, the school eye exam revealed that I needed glasses to see the blackboard. I went home and cried because I thought wearing glasses would increase the teasing and bullying that went on in the early 70’s. But my self-conscious fears were trumped by the gift of sight. When I first put on glasses I was shocked at the detail I had been missing.
Everything that we see with our eyes is visible because of light. There is a range of electromagnetic radiation that we are able to detect. We see because our eyes and brain cooperate to detect and interpret this activity.
Light and vision are so much more to us than physics. Light and vision are metaphysical terms, metaphors of spiritual realities.
My eyes have led me to find things I was searching for. I have read the Scriptures with my own eyes. The effect of this has launched me into faith, where I find evidence of things to hope for. I see things by faith, not yet visible to my natural eyes.
I beheld beauty at the back of the church in November 1987 and decided I wanted to know her.
I have witnessed births and beheld death.
I have had my sight blur with tears.
I saw the ancient land of Israel in all its stone glory.
I have watched the sunset out the passenger window at 10,000 meters.
I snorkeled past a spotted eagle stingray with a 4-meter wingspan at the coral reef of John Pennecamp underwater park. Sunlight danced through the water as she made her watery flight beneath me.