Go to now ye that say, To day or to morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy and sell, and get gain: Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow.
James 4:13, 14
We had plans. People were expecting us. We were going to make some home visits, hospital calls, go here, do this and that, take a little jaunt, but first there was an eye appointment- just to have a look at what my parson considered a “drooping eye.” However, the trained eye of the opthamologist saw a greater issue to be dealt with. The vision problem was not in a heavy eyelid; it was in the retina. Now the vision problem wasn’t just an aggravation; it was serious issue. Another appointment was set for a retina specialist after the weekend.
On Sunday we sang with the congregation…
Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For sinners such as I?
Refrain
At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled
It was there by faith I received my sight, And now I am happy all the day!
It seemed everywhere we turned over the weekend, there were references to sight, vision or seeing openly and clearly. It was as though each statement or phrase spoken or sung was shouted at us. We were ready listeners. Of course the references are to spiritual sight, which is far greater. How empty our lives would be had we never seen our need for Christ.
Then the Monday morning appointment came. My poor parson endured all the lights, refraction, and testing all over again. He read more alphabet signs than a kindergartner at graduation time. Then the diagnosis came – it was a detached retina. Surgery was scheduled for today at 9am.
My heart has ached for my parson. We are one. We have been for thirty-one years. What he goes through, I go through. I wish I could take it for him. He will be wheeled off to deal with this surgery, but not alone. Because of his spiritual vision that pushed him to Christ at the age of five, he will have the presence of the Lord with him where I cannot go. That gives me peace and helps me rest.
As to the plans we’d made earlier – they are really insignificant right now. When going through a trial, priorities change. The really important and eternal things come into view very clearly. Some of those things are:
- Our love and dependence on our God. Plans may change, but God never will.
- Our knowledge of His sovereign plan. He knows what is best for us.
- Our love for one another. We are pulled closer at times like this.
- Our appreciation for everything God has given (vision, speech, ability to walk, talk, swallow…)
- Our love and gratefulness for our family and friends that have surrounded us. What we do without this support?
If you’re going through a trial, determine to allow it to run you to God and not away from Him. Love your family more than ever. Tell your friends what they mean to you. You never know what tomorrow may bring.
From the parsonage windows,
P.S. Thank you for your prayers for the parson and me! We need each one.
RefreshHer 