Wednesday, April 1, 2009
4 Hours a Day
Four hours. That's how long we paste a patch over little Lucy's eye each day. It's hard and easy all at once. It's an offering. Here, God, we'll patch like eyes were made for patches. I always feel sort of like I'm putting a band-aid on the whole affair. Sometimes I wonder if God gave me this tiny hand hold of control just to feel like I'm helping. It's sort of like the way I let Janie stir the cookie dough.
Our appointment was yesterday. Small black plots on a graph, so unimpressive, and yet so startling. Her bad eye scored 20/47, the tippy top of the developmental curve! The good eye scored 20/90. Her GOOD eye actually lags slightly behind the BAD eye (though still well within the range of normal).
So when something miraculous happens, what do you do? I have no praise grand enough, no heart pure enough. I guess in a way I fear the Lord more that he can so matter of factly give vision to my child. Even writing it sounds funny. Give vision?! Who does that? Nah, let's not bring flowers this time; let's just pluck a few stems of sight to bring instead. All the while the cataract planted in the middle of her glassy lens worships God. Who knew the very imperfection would be the glory of glories. Sight in the face of all odds. Oh to be so imperfect.
A Journey of Eight Years