My Journey

Introduction
It was Marci who suggested this blog. It was a good idea. I have a story and I want to tell it. I want others to hear and be encouraged, moved, inspired, or whatever – just changed somehow. Over the last 22 months I have had significant problems with my eyes. In hindsight it may seem obvious that I was never in serious danger, but there were periods when we weren’t sure I would see again. But I am convinced that God had His hand firmly on the entire experience.

The whole thing was part frightening and part freeing. I was frightened because, like anyone, I love being able to see - so many of the things I enjoy most in life, I enjoy with my eyes - and I feared that I may lose that! But it was freeing because in the course of the experience God taught me things I didn’t know I needed to learn, He showed me things I didn’t know I had missed, and He told me things I will remember and cherish for the rest of my life.

And He called me friend.

I have described 2006-07 as the worst years of my life and the best years of my life. It felt as though my physical sight was inversely proportional to my spiritual sight and today I see clearer than I ever have.

What I have done here, is piece together some journal entries, letters, e-mails and conversations from over the last 22 months. It’s for you to read, enjoy, and see if God doesn’t have something in it for you.

God bless.

PS: Please understand, if I use words like ‘pain,’ ‘suffering,’ or ‘adversity,’ they are not meant to be some quantitative or qualitative statement - they’re just words to help describe my journey.

October 1, 2006 (from a letter to friends following surgery number 2)

Many, many people have prayed for me during my recent eye surgery. It’s amazing – really, really, amazing – just how many people were praying. Besides dozens of local friends and family, there was a conference of about 200 pastors in upstate New York; my mom’s Bible study group in New York; friends and staff at my brother’s church in Virginia; the Student Government Association at Southern Nazarene University, where Matthew attends, and his Speech Communication class there at SNU; 5 Jesuit priests in Ireland (!?); some of the staff at my surgeon’s office; and 5 of the judges at the Great American Beer Festival in Denver (it’s a long story – let’s just say God really gets around)!

With everything in me I’d like to thank each of you. Your prayers and support have meant much and produced good fruit. I wish I could thank each of you personally.

However, because many of you have asked for an update, and because Rev 12 says, “They overcame …by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony…” I submit this for you to read and consider what God has done. This is truly about God’s grace in a life trying to be surrendered to Him. I hope you get something out of the story. It’s not just my story, but hopefully our story.

And I will pray for you. In fact I have. I have prayed that God would do the same to you that He has done to me. (Not that you’d have any particular physical ailments, but …well, you’ll see what I mean.)

* * *

It was clear to me from the first - when I started having symptoms - that this was less about a physical problem and much more about God’s process in me. When God allows difficult things to happen in our lives it’s always for a purpose. Sometimes it’s to affirm us, to demonstrate His love for us, but more often it’s either to try our faith or to purify us, make us stronger (which, of course, also demonstrates His love for us). Sometimes He tests, our faith to help us see where we need correction or growth. His infinite grace always provides the strength or stamina we need to do what He asks and what He asks or brings is never more than we can handle (1 Co 10:13, 15:10; 2 Co 9:8, 12:9). Certainly there are many people who have gone through, or even now are going through, far greater trials than mine, but my experience is all I’ve got, so I’d like to tell you about it.

I had a retinal detachment (RD) in my left eye in early February of 2006. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the very beginning of a period when God was already pulling out all the spiritual stops to get my attention. We had gone to the home of some good friends for dinner (no, it was nothing they served). I started having symptoms on the way home that night. (Go to: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Retinal_detachment for helpful information on RD’s.)

For a variety of reasons the retinal detachment (RD) was diagnosed late and surgery, which can only do so much, didn’t correct it perfectly and now because of a tiny wrinkle, or scarring, or whatever, in the retina (over the macula) everything I see in my left eye is distorted – no straight lines, no round circles. So my vision in that eye is impaired and probably always will be. It affects my work and has limited me in some of the things I have always most enjoyed doing. It was, at times, discouraging.

I’m embarrassed to say, that for the many, many things God was doing in my life at the time, other experiences that were changing my heart forever, it was July or August before I started asking, “Lord, is there something you want me to learn from this?” He was about to answer. (So that you don’t think I’m a complete dolt, I have since learned to routinely ask that question several times a day – I suggest you do the same!)

Well, in late September we went to the home of some other good friends to receive healing prayer for my eye. Marci and I and both of them each prayed for a good long while – anointing with oil and laying on of hands – anticipating real “signs and wonders” stuff. We prayed the best and most fervently we knew how and with all the faith we had, but nothing happened.

After some time we stopped to talk about how we ought to proceed. In the course of the conversation I said, “God’s been remarkably active in my life over the last nine months. I know He’s drawing me deeper into Himself in powerful ways and I don’t want to impede that. Of course I want to be healed; I would prefer to see clearly in both of my eyes. But if this vision loss is part of God’s purpose for me, a way for Him to remove distractions in my life, or to “complete the work He has begun in me,” then ok. If I know it’s His will for me, then I will be content with this.” We agreed to wait with any more healing prayer, anticipating further direction, and Marci and I went home.

THE NEXT DAY, just eight months after the left eye, the retina tore and detached in my right eye! It was a startling and ironic twist, to say the least. Having been through this once already, this time I recognized the symptoms immediately.

I also recalled my own words less than twenty-four hours before – “If I know it’s His will for me, then I will be content…” The significance of the moment did not escape me. I knew something important was happening and I had to ask myself again, “Am I content with God’s purposes for me?”

On Monday I called or e-mailed a few friends and asked them to be praying for me and the doctors, etc. I also had breakfast with my friend and Pastor, Rick Cole. We talked, as we often do, of our dependence on God’s active participation in our lives. He said to me, “This is certainly intriguing at least and life-changing at most. Tim, what do you sense God is saying to you in this?”

Even though I had been thinking and praying about that very question, I hadn’t actually verbalized it. I was about to experience, as Dallas Willard describes it, “God’s word for me, spoken by me.” When the thoughts in my mind parted my lips I felt the Spirit confirm what I was saying and I started to cry (for those of you who know me well – that’s no surprise).

I said, “God has a uniquely personal message here for me [nothing new for God, but it felt new to me]. I can feel His love, and hear Him teaching me, and saying,

‘I hold your eyes in my hand. I can restore your sight …or I can take it away. When you say, ‘I’ll be content with God’s purposes in my life,’ I want you to mean it. When you say, ‘Lord, your will, not mine,’ I want you to mean it. When you ask me to take you deeper into relationship with me, no matter the cost, I want you to mean it. I love you very much and I will answer all of those prayers and more. The rewards of relationship with me are limitless, but there is a cost.’”

Was I prepared for the cost?

That was a powerful moment. It gave me lots to think and pray about prior to surgery in just a few days. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being apprehensive about the surgery. I told Marci, “Last time I was a little scared because I didn’t know what was happening. Now I’m a little scared because I do know what’s happening.” But it wasn’t a fear that gripped me or controlled me. I had given my eyes and their care to the Lord and although I had no sense of the outcome (in the end, God will do what He’s got to do) I felt peace that it would be just as He intended - what was best for me and my relationship with Him.

The surgery went well. The surgeon reported that the damage to this eye was not as serious as in the other; it didn’t involve the macula (a specific answer to prayer); and recovery should be normal and go pretty quickly. I was, to be sure, very thankful.

But there was still something…

Have you ever had a thought or an idea that hung around inside your head and nagged your senses, but you just couldn’t give it feet - you couldn’t quite make enough sense of it to put it into words? Well, I had one of those. I wasn’t losing sleep over it, but I knew that God wasn’t done addressing the ‘contentedness’ question. I started expecting more ‘personal messages.’

Two days after surgery a group of friends were praying for me at church. They prayed as any of us would – for complete healing. I am very grateful for their friendship, their prayers and that they cared about me. But praying as we were, we were about to miss something incredible.

It’s perfectly natural that we would want to pray for healing, that there’d be no fear, and that recovery would be quick and complete. But in praying that way we assume that because things are not normal, they are not as they should be. It became clear to me as we were praying that that’s not always right, and not always what God has in mind for us. As we prayed, someone said something (I don’t even quite remember what it was) that gave feet - no, wings - to that puny idea in my head and suddenly it shouted out, “I don’t want to be healed. I want to be well!”

“If God has a greater purpose for me, somehow carried out with diminished physical sight, then that’s what I want, not complete healing. To be well means to be in a healthy state, and a healthy state for Christians is holiness. I want to be well - not just healed, but HOLY!”

Healing is a step forward, but it may not be a step deeper. The process of sanctification that leads to holiness is necessarily a long and sometimes strenuous one. God’s gift of salvation is free and instantaneous, but those lessons on our pride, impatience, indifference, and other sin that runs so deep in our nature take a very long time, and sometimes drastic measures to learn. The transformation of our will and its submission to Jesus (Jn 15:1-8) cannot be rushed or the lessons learned become transient and we return to old sinful patterns. It would be like cramming for a test – you might do o.k. in the short run, but would you still have anything of value tomorrow or a year from now? And for boneheaded and stubborn people like me it’s a very long process indeed.

There is no goal, no pursuit so lofty or more richly rewarded than to become like Jesus, to be holy because He is holy (Ro 12:1; 1 Th 3:13; 2 Ti 1:9, 2:21; He 12:14; 1 Pe 1:15-16, 2:5,9) and to live as if nothing else matters and no cost is too great.

It is a priceless gift to serve a God who knows us, loves us, hears us, answers us and cares about everything we care about. What an opportunity we have to be made righteous by His grace and drawn into holy intimacy with Him. And just think – there’s no one on the planet that He loves more than you or me! But while His salvation is free and His gifts are many, He demands much of us. “To whom much is given, much will be required” (Lk 12:48), and we have certainly been given much. God also says, “This is whom I esteem: he who is humble and contrite in spirit, and trembles at my word” (Is 66:2).

Thank you, each of you, for your prayers for my eyes. But more than praying for me, invest your prayers and lives in surrendering everything you are and have to our heavenly Father (He 12:9; Ja 4:7). Be humble and contrite in spirit and never doubt the truth or veracity of God’s word in your own life. Seek Him with all you’ve got (Pr 3:6). Give Him everything He asks and accept everything He gives (Mt 7:11; He 2:4; He 12:5-8). Mean it when you say “YES!” to Him and trust Him to work in your life and in the lives of those you love.

It is a remarkable thing that “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those that love Him, but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.” (1 Co 2:9-10)

Yes, I am content, because He is our God!

December 25, 2006

It’s been just a few weeks since my last RD, but on Friday, the 15th of December 2006, I went to see my eye surgeon with another troublesome spot in the vision in my right eye. He diagnosed another RD and so on Monday, the 18th I went in for more surgery! In addition to a vitrectomy as I’d had twice before, the doctor applied a scleral buckle – like a rubber band around my eye (wanna see pictures?) - to try to reduce tension on the retina and prevent further detachments. The surgery went well. Although it was more painful than previous procedures, subsequent post-ops indicate that I’m healing as I should.

Evidently, more than one detachment in an eye is not all that uncommon. The highest incidence of retinal detachments is among people who have had them before; and anyone who has had them could have as many as three or four before the problem is really brought under control. However, it is sobering to consider that of only about 26,000 retinal detachments in the U.S. in 2006, three of them had been mine.

Apparently, I have some physical conditions that seem to contribute to the problem. That is what it is. However, I no longer wonder if God may be doing or saying something through troubling experiences, i.e.- adversity, suffering, pain. I just assume that He certainly is, and I get on my knees and ask to understand - “Lord, what is it that I should learn here; how do You want to change me?” If we are intentional in asking, He will be faithful in answering. God does speak to us to guide, develop, correct, and encourage us. In fact, it is an essential part of our relationship with Him.
Friends, and folks I didn’t even know, were praying for my complete healing. I am grateful for that - my vision has become pretty poor and I worry some about my job and other basic activities that I can’t do very well any more. But still, I am most concerned about who I am, or even more, who I become as a result of this.

More than ever, I have come to see this as far more spiritual than physical. It occupies my mind all the time. While God is also using other things to change me and shape me, this is the thing that most informs my identity. I can’t help but feel that how I embrace this will, in no small part, shape how I embrace holiness itself. Will I become fearful, or even angry? Or will I find God’s grace sufficient [see April 17, 2007]? Will His power be made perfect in my weakness (2 Co 12:9)? Is Jesus enough, no matter what the outcome? This is a holy process for me and I want to claim every ounce of redemption from it that I can.

Blaise Pascal was a 17th century French mathematician and physicist - the world has seen few so remarkable. He was also a devout and insightful Christian and religious philosopher. For much of his life Pascal suffered a nervous disorder that caused him daily pain. He gave voice to my own thoughts when he wrote,

“I know not which is most profitable to me, health or sickness, wealth or poverty, nor anything else in the world. That discernment is beyond the power of men or of angels, and is hidden among the secrets of [God's] Providences, which I adore, but do not seek to fathom."

What are the secrets of God’s Providences? Like Pascal, I can’t presume to fathom God’s wisdom or discern with certainty what He knows is profitable for me. But I know this - God promises, “I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the LORD, the God of Israel, who summons you by name… I am the LORD, and there is no other; apart from me there is no God.” (Isa 45:3, 5)

Are those secrets revealed only to a strangely gifted few - prophets, some teachers, or a few mystics among us? I don’t think so. As “deep calls to deep,” His Spirit bears witness to every believer’s spirit and the beckoning heart of God is revealed to all those who surrender their desperate lives to His holiness. The things He gives us to know and understand are ours to cherish always in our walk with Him… if we would only listen.

“The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever…” (Dt 29:29)

God is not silent. His word is never static, His promises never stale (though they may be deferred, and few of us find any comfort in that prospect). Those special places of revelation are in brokenness, surrender and obedience.

So what is He teaching me? How is this changing me? What do I know now, with more certainty, that has been just an idea I assented to? There are many things, but a few stand out to me…

First, God loves me more than I ever imagined He would and far more than I deserve. I know that now; not because He’s proved it to me, though He certainly has, but because I have finally accepted His love. It was never a difficult concept, really; I just acted as if it was or I acted indifferently. Now I know it’s true and the warmth in my heart and the freedom in my soul is new and fresh and very nearly indescribable.

Second, holiness - God’s holiness and our personal holiness - is to be desired above all things. Holiness is an idea peculiar to Biblical religion. There is no other god like our God and no other god loves or is so merciful or so gracious as He. He wants us to imitate His holiness, to “consecrate yourselves and be holy, because I am holy” (1 Pe 1:16), to hate sin and be possessed of an unquenchable thirst to be Christlike.

And that holiness is not just conformity to Christian dogma, but the effect of a totally surrendered, obedient, and prayerfully intimate relationship with the living God of our redemption. The Rev. W. Bates said, “Anyone who reflects even a small measure of God’s holiness at once attracts His eye and heart. The one who partakes of God’s holiness finds himself infinitely endeared to the Holy One.” More than anything, I want to be “endeared to the Holy One.”

Third, anything worth living for is worth struggling for - struggling with my own demons and struggling with my God, just as Jacob did. Philip Yancey observed that “life without pain is agony.” Our reward is as much about the fight as the victory. Purposefully pressing through with our eyes on the prize (1 Co 9:24) pleases God and proves our soul’s mettle in our partnership with Him.

We learn in the struggle of a different kind of ‘fight,’ like that of the “importunate neighbor” pleading for bread for his friend (Lk 11:5, 6). E.M. Bounds wrote,

“Importunate prayer is a mighty movement of the soul toward God. It is a stirring of the deepest forces of the soul, toward the throne of heavenly grace. It is the ability to hold on, press on, and wait. Restless desire, restful patience, and strength of grasp are all embraced in it... It is not an impulse of energy, not a mere earnestness of soul; it is an inwrought force, a faculty implanted and aroused by the Holy Spirit.”

Roy Hession, in ‘The Calvary Road,’ also understood this unique quality of prayer writing, “Prayer is not conquering God’s reluctance, but laying hold of His willingness. If the man in the [Luke 11] parable could be importunate to conquer his friend’s reluctance, how much more ought we to be importunate to lay hold of our God’s willingness!”

And the prize is so sweet. P.T. Forsythe describes our partnership with God in prayer almost as one would describe a lovers romance, “Love loves to be told what it already knows... to be asked for what it’s already prepared to give.”

The struggle is a spiritual one. With our eyes fixed on Jesus, “the author and perfecter of our faith” (Heb 12:2), and the Spirit of God dwelling within us, victory is certain and peace abounds. Any anguish is of my own making.

Fourth, is patience. Did I say I have learned patience? I wish I could say that, but I am only just learning patience and it is the longest lesson because I am such a slow learner. Besides, how can one learn patience except with the passage of time? It seems everything in my life lately (not just this ordeal with my eyes) involves waiting - patience. And what is patience but trust and rest? I am still very needy in areas of trust and rest.

Time is the same for me as for everyone else. It moves no faster and no slower for me than for every other earth-bound creature; it never has and it never will. And yet, I continue to fight against it as though I have something to lose if I don’t; as though I could fight and change anything. What nonsense is that? Am I so fickle and foolish that after the biggest part of a lifetime has passed I still can’t trust God’s faithfulness and sovereignty? Father God, forgive me. I am so self-important.

There is so much that He has shown me; so much that He has promised. I pray daily for those things, in His name, because I know that He wants me to. Yet, I seem to pray with such urgency or insistence that it’s as if I don’t believe He hears me unless I shout, or that He can’t act without my prayers. What audacity! On the one hand I am impatient, even impertinent, but if I force myself to squelch those tendencies, I become complacent, or worse, indifferent.

Somewhere in between is where I think God wants me. That’s where I can continually (with importunity!) express the trust on which such a relationship depends. Lord Jesus, teach me to truly trust you. Teach me to know my needfulness and to pray deeply and daily for the fulfillment of your promises, but from a place of absolute surrender, trust, and rest. How I need your rest.

* * *

If this sounds like I am grappling to describe the realities in my experience, it’s because I am. I pray often asking God to give me the words to articulate what He has done for me. I want to explain to my friends God’s activities and important place in my life. I want to make His righteous ways plain and desirable, even enviable, to my son. I want to teach with clarity and vision. I want to pray with confidence, trust and rest.

I know I will understand in time. That’s what this is all about, really. Learning one lesson at a time and at a pace that will change me without killing me.

Thank you, Lord, for such mercy.

“No man has the mind of Christ, except him who makes it his business to obey him.”
— George MacDonald
—
January 10, 2007

A good friend who works in my surgeon’s office told Marci and I a good story the other night. Dr. J. had stopped by her cubicle the other day after an exam and said, “Tim may not believe it right now, but he’s going to be ok.” He may be right, but my first (and immediate) thought when she told us that was, “Dr. J. may not believe it right now, but he’s not in control.”

God has let me know again and again that this is His gig, that He has an agenda, and that it will be done when He says it’s done, when I’ve learned what He wants me to learn.

March 29, 2007

How lonely Zechariah must have felt to not be able to speak for about 9 months of what he had seen that day in the Temple – to not speak of what he had been told until what he had been told had come to pass. He physically had no words. He was unable to form them with his mouth. I spiritually have no words. My heart and my mind can’t form them. I can’t explain what I have seen, but I feel that “my eyes have seen holy.”

* * *

When my eyes were bad and my vision poor I felt fortunate to be constantly reminded of my dependence on God. But it was dependence for one thing – my ‘blindness.’ Now my eyes have recovered (not completely, but significantly) and the doctors can give me contacts, I can see and I see how dependent I really am – for many things. For that I am grateful. For all things I am grateful.

For example: A week or so ago Marci had put four or five Tupperware containers of leftovers on the table and said, “Let’s get rid of some of these scraps in the fridge.” Any other night that would have been normal stuff, but not that night! When I started to say grace for dinner I looked at the table and, like in a vision, all I saw was abundance! I started to cry and I couldn’t even get through grace! Marci had to finish because I was just so overwhelmed with God’s goodness and provision for us.

God is good.

April 17, 2007

“To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses. . . For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
2 Cor 12:7-10

We commonly use the idea of “suffering” to talk about the refiner’s fire. That’s valid enough, as far as it goes, but it seems to me to leave many questions unanswered. Of course, God has no fixed formula for dealing with His children and so I should resist the urge to quantify (and thereby limit) His initiative with us, but still, the more I know Him, the more I love Him and so I try to understand. . .

It is not in our suffering where Christ meets us; it is in our need. And it is not in his provision that we find plenty; it is in his sufficiency. It is our need that teaches us his faithfulness, not our pain.

I must continually ask myself: Do I live my life as though Christ is sufficient to meet my needs? Would he be enough for me if I had nothing else? Am I content to be weak – even to be seen by others as weak (inflicting a mortal wound to my conspicuous pride) – if it means that Christ alone would be glorified in me?

Suffering is hard. It’s very hard. No one should have to endure Satan’s pleasure. But while it can be character building, even transforming, most of us just become self-absorbed. However, recognizing and acknowledging our need confesses our weakness – confession being an important turn in our attitude. Few ever suffer very much, really, and suffering is so relative (we believe our own exaggerated claims of despair until God provides us with a glimpse of someone else’s), but all of us are impoverished by need. We are, each of us, so helpless and needful of God’s merciful benefits.

When we suffer we cry and we plead and we want God to just take it away. But when we are needy and we openly and honestly acknowledge our need in full view of Christ’s sufficiency we determine that that moment should never leave us – we want always to be reminded of our need, to renounce all self-sufficiency, to never forget God’s grace and mercy that we have found “in our time of need” (Heb 4:16).

Suffering is about us; need is about Him. It’s about God being our Father and not just our rescuer - He’s not just a big cosmic switch to turn off our crisis. It’s about God’s process in us and our once lifeless shell being surrendered to His magnificent holiness. It’s about God making up the difference between what we have and what we truly need and He knows that so much better than we do.

When we ask for provision we are usually asking for some of the many things we crave or covet, but his sufficiency is based on a very different economy. Sufficiency is adequacy, but the Lord’s adequacy is opulent when held up to even our most selfish excesses. When we finally realize what we must loose and what we stand to gain, we wish for nothing more or less.

If self-interest and concern for ourselves is what drives our relationship with Him then we are missing something vitally life-giving. “Those that cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs” (Jonah 2:8) – and we are our own most “worthless idols.”


I am helpless, on my own, to produce anything worthwhile, no matter how right and good it may seem. I am helpless, on my own, to be who God created me to be. I am helpless, on my own, to provide for anyone else what they need from me. Frankly, I can’t help myself. And so I’m compelled to pray. . .

Lord, show me my weaknesses so that I may boast and delight in them “for your sake.”

May 3, 2007

A couple of months ago I told my nephew, Scott, “I know God is drawing me deeper, and that’s scary, because I don’t know how deep deep gets or how much it may cost.” But “the cost” isn’t about how much we have to give up. It’s about how much we’re willing to pay!!! In Matthew 13 Jesus illustrates with kind of a story,

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.”

Could we ever believe, even as jaded and skeptical as we are, that these people ever once felt taken advantage of, as if they were forced to pay an unreasonable sum for their prize? Should we believe that they ever regretted the investment? Of course not! They were beside themselves with the joy of their discovery and the knowledge that it now belonged to them forever! They would have paid much more, but all they had was enough.

God wants all of me. I’d be willing to pay much more, but all I am is enough.

September 12, 2007

The “trauma” of RD surgeries (trauma is trauma, whether it’s a kick in the head or microscopic surgery) has caused my eyes to deteriorate – quite a bit since my last RD. As I understand it, the lenses in my eyes are swelling. They can’t even make glasses for me anymore. I’m in rigid contacts now, which I obviously can’t wear all day, but when I take them out I’m like Mr. Magoo! So on October 1st I’ll have my first lens replacement surgery (the same thing as cataract surgery). Replacing the lenses is the only way to repair my eyes. I was told at the time of my RD surgeries that this might happen.

I'm not sure how to describe my current state of mind. It's not that I'm discouraged, really. It's more like I'm just facing a little more spiritual reality than I care to at the moment.

Up until a few days ago I've been guardedly optimistic about the surgery in my right eye. I've been excited about the prospect of seeing well again. I've even "boasted" about being able to see "as well as I did in third grade,” when I first got glasses. But the surgeon pulled me down off THAT cloud and explained to me that although cataract lens replacement is the most common surgery performed in the world today and the most effective/successful in 99.99% of patients - I fall into the .01% category. Oh, boy.

Sunday evening I was reflecting with some friends on the whole idea of refining, like gold, in the heat of intense fire and I was taken back to something I had written a year ago in a letter to friends praying for my eyes (compare my upcoming surgery date with the date below - hmmm.),

“God has a uniquely personal message here for me. I can feel His love, and hear Him teaching me, and saying, ‘I hold your eyes in my hand. I can restore your sight... or I can take it away. When you say, 'I'll be content with God's purposes in my life,' I want you to mean it. When you say, 'Lord, your will, not mine,' I want you to mean it. When you ask me to take you deeper into relationship with me, I want you to mean it. I love you very much and I will answer all of those prayers and more. The rewards of relationship with me are limitless, but there is also a cost." (Oct 1, 2006)

Suddenly, I heard myself admitting to fear I didn't know I had. What was God prepared to do to get the parts of me He didn't have? I had been saying I was confident in the doctor's plans, but I had neglected to remember the plans God has for me - some of which I don't even know about just yet; some of which can only be the product of hard lessons. In his book, ‘Shattered Dreams,’ Larry Crabb nails my new awareness with the statement, “If we are satisfied with good health, responsible children, enjoyable marriages, close friendships, interesting jobs, and successful ministries, we will never hunger for God's best. We will never worship. I've come to believe that only broken people can truly worship."

I know that to be true.

I've had three RD surgeries in the last year-and-a-half and none of them have gone splendidly by medical standards (or by my standards, anyhow). Now I'm going to voluntarily have my God-given lenses surgically removed and replaced with artificial ones. Commonplace or not, God used the other surgeries powerfully in my life to teach me difficult and wonderful lessons. How is He going to use this one? What I've learned in the last year-and-a-half is that God's plans for us are always good, but that He sees "good" differently than we do. His plans make us better, but it's not always a neat and clean process. He'll do what He has to do to get what He hasn't got

…and my heart is still so up for grabs.

The time-worn, “God loves you and only wants wonderful things for you” line is no longer all that satisfying, at least not the way most people mean it when they say it (which begs the question, “Have they experienced it?”). I have experienced the wonderful things of God and they are not what I expected ...wonderful, certainly, but like Jacob, now I walk with a limp.

Anyway, that's my state of mind lately - not bad, just more aware of the realities of God's 'upside-down kingdom.’ I’ll see what He wants me to see, regardless of the outcome …and I’ll see it clearly. But more than anything, I want my response to be a witness to Matthew. I want him to see God as gracious, loving, always concerned about the things we are concerned about, that His best is always the best for us, and that even difficult times can be embraced for God’s glory.

Lord, please be glorified in my life.

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD'S great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”

“The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.” (Lamentations 3:21-27)

October 10, 2007

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made, your works are wonderful, I know that full well."

I had my one week post-op checkup yesterday and the sight in my right eye is 20/20! I have no pain to speak of, no inflammation, no bleeding, and no RDs (though they’re watching me closely for those for a while). The doc was so pleased he said, "Well, let's go ahead and do your left eye right away." So I am scheduled for surgery for that eye on November 5th!

The evening of my surgery I was sitting in our living room, reading the titles of books sitting on a shelf across the room. I haven't been able to do that since I was 10 years old! Riding to work the next morning I got the biggest kick out of reading license plates! A few mornings later I had a 6:30 (am) appointment in Brighton. It was the first time I'd driven in over a month. I was reminded again of God's faithfulness, because I didn't just see well - I couldn't recall a time when I could see so well. Street signs were larger, brighter, and clearer than I remember them ever being, and I had no "star-bursts" from oncoming car lights.

I know that MANY people have been through FAR WORSE than I have been (physical infirmity, emotional collapse, spiritual affliction, etc.), but in my scope of experience it's been a difficult couple of years. However, when I left the doctor's office yesterday and realized how God had glorified Himself in my life, I had to weep all the way home. I am blessed, but the glory is His, and His glory is nothing less than the manifestation of His goodness, His power, His love, His holiness - and He has shown all that through me in the last two years!

God loves to BLESS us, we just don't always agree on what blessing is. But in His goodness He has blessed me and I will praise Him for it!

How could we not hunger for Christ more than any other hunger? I want a deep and life changing relationship with God, abandoning to Him my most cherished dreams and desires, even if He doesn’t fulfill them. I want to live like I believe that He loves and desires me and is passionate to bless me, even when He seems to withhold His blessing. I want to have confidence in His plans and purposes for me, even when they are difficult. I want to know and trust that His Spirit is at work in me, even when He feels distant.

And I want, more than anything, to be part of His plan, to further His kingdom, to know Him, to praise Him, to enjoy Him, and to represent Him well here on earth.

The Christian life (our life in Christ) is not about us and what God can do for us. It’s about HIM and HIS glory and how we reflect His glory to this world “for His names sake.”

"My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you." (Job 42:5)

October 31, 2007

I had a one-month post-op the other day with another doctor and after he looked at my cornea with the microscope he told me, "If you hadn't told me, I might not be able to tell you've had surgery. Your progress is excellent." That's how well my eye has healed! Praise God!

A month ago I was prepared for about anything. So much has happened in the last 2 years that I often asked "what is God prepared to do...?' Then He restored my vision beyond what even the surgeon expected. I e-mailed a friend yesterday and told her I was embarrassed that I was ever fearful. I told her that God and I had had a long talk about that and I had asked Him how I should understand this dramatic recovery. A light went on in my spirit and I understood the answer - "You could learn a thousand lessons about brokenness, but if you don't understand them in the context of my mercy and my goodness, they would mean nothing. Now you know how I love you and how I want, and am able, to bless you, and that suffering is not just for suffering's sake - some sadistic lesson unto itself - it's to bring you right to the edge of something 'awful' so you can see something 'wonderful.' All that I do for you I do for my own glory - for the sake of my holy name [read Ez 32]. THAT'S what I want you to see. There's no better place to rest."

I PRAY that I won’t forget these things when my eyes are well and it becomes a daily choice to love, trust, and willingly surrender to God, depending on Him for all I am and need.

November 12, 2007

It’s been a week since my second lens replacement. The first day or so was a bit discouraging. The change, or correction, in my right eye was not as quick or dramatic as in the first. I thought what I was seeing the day after surgery was as good as it would get – and it wasn’t that good. But now a week later it’s much better; in fact, with both eyes I am just about 20/20 (I can read all but a couple letters on the 20/20 line of the eye chart).

When I went for a post-op today the optometrist and the optician were literally laughing – they couldn’t get over how far I had come. Dr. Treick said, “Dr. Craven [the surgeon] is going to be ecstatic when he sees how well you’re doing.”

I am ecstatic. I am blessed. And I am afraid Dr. Craven is going to be disappointed if he thinks he fixed my eyes just in his own skill. I know the One who created my eyes and He’s the same One who saw me through all this.

“O LORD, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things…” (Isaiah 25:1)


Book List…

Since I haven’t been able to do much (in my leisure time) besides read over the last 22 months, some friends have asked me for a list of the books that have meant the most to me. I’m glad to offer this list, but it was tough to narrow it down…

‘Into the Depths of God’ and ‘A Hunger for the Holy’ by Calvin Miller
‘The Divine Conspiracy’ and ‘Hearing God’ by Dallas Willard
‘Shattered Dreams’ by Larry Crabb
‘Revolution Within’ by Dwight Edwards
‘Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home’ by Richard Foster
‘Prayer’ by Philip Yancey
‘Irresistible Revolution’ by Shane Claiborne
‘Holiness’ by Henry Blackaby
‘Surrender,’ ‘Brokenness,’ and ‘Holiness’ by Nancy Leigh DeMoss
‘Absolute Surrender’ by Andrew Murray
‘The Christian’s Secret to a Happy Life’ by Hannah Whitall Smith
‘John Wesley’ by Basil Miller
‘E.M. Bounds on Prayer’
…and biographies of D.L. Moody, Horatio Spafford, Fanny Crosby and Philip P. Bliss