Open my eyes, that I may behold wonderful things from Your law. – Psalm 119:18

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had “bad eyes.” Translation? I have less than stellar vision – and that’s putting it mildly.

I’ll never forget the time an optometrist told me that I was as “blind as a bat.” As awful as that sounds, he wasn’t too outrageous in his assessment. According to the American Academy of Ophthalmology, mild nearsightedness is defined as vision between -0.25 and -2.00. Severe nearsightedness begins at -5.00. My left eye is -8.50, while my right is -9.00. That isn’t good. For obvious reasons, I’ve never taken my vision for granted.

I’ve worn glasses since I was in First Grade, and until just a few years ago, my nearsightedness has steadily gotten worse every year. I secretly declare a small victory whenever I hear an optometrist say, “Your prescription hasn’t changed,” during an annual exam.

While my vision is blessedly correctable with lenses, eyeglasses make me dizzy due to the dramatic difference between the glass correction and my blurry periphery vision. Contact lenses have been a game-changer for me. I’ve been wearing them since I was eighteen.

Adding to the fun of my eye challenges are my ocular migraines. These particular headaches present as a zigzag aura that appears in my field of vision. The aura manifests as a jiggling lightning bolt that gets bigger and bigger until I can hardly see anything – almost as if I’ve stared at the sun for too long, causing my vision to disappear slowly.

The first time this happened to me, I was driving on the Baltimore Expressway – in the fast lane. Needless to say, it completely freaked me out. Thankfully, I don’t get migraines too often – but whenever I do, I thank God that my vision always comes back – which is why my latest visual dilemma has been so challenging.

Recently, I had an ocular migraine that was precipitated by a different type of impediment. After a day of heavy yard work, I noticed a line in my right field of view while walking into my backyard. My first thought was that I had blinked an eyelash onto my contact as whenever I tried to look directly at the line, it blinked away. I didn’t give it too much thought until the migraine aura came into view. At that point, I knew I had precious little time to medicate before a full-blown migraine set in.

Thankfully, I have a prescription that helps diminish my migraine’s intensity if taken within the first 10 minutes of the onset. In this instance, I took my pill and allowed myself a much-deserved rest while recovering.

The following day, David and I drove to VA Beach to work on his house renovations again. I could still see the line over my right eye – only now it had a few companions. Attributing the oddity to leftover migraine effects, I didn’t say anything to David. It wasn’t until we arrived safely at his VA house that I admitted to being challenged while driving in the rain that afternoon. My vision had been impaired during the journey, so I knew I needed to see an eye doctor that week.

After securing an appointment, I began researching “Floaters.” For whatever reason, I felt this might be what I had, despite not knowing anything about the condition. It didn’t take long to verify my suspicions. 

Floaters are lines or spots in one’s vision that move around when you try to look at them. According to the Mayo Clinic, “Most eye floaters are caused by age-related changes that occur as the jelly-like substance (vitreous) inside your eyes liquifies and contracts. Scattered clumps of collagen fibers form within the vitreous and can cast tiny shadows on your retina. The shadows you see are called floaters.”

While floaters are generally only an annoying phenomenon and not anything serious, they can sometimes preclude a more dangerous condition – a retinal tear or detachment. In my case, the optometrist I saw told me I’m highly susceptible to such things due to my severe myopia or nearsightedness.

My retina, I learned, is already stretched so thin that my eyes will likely experience one of both of these issues at some point. While a tear can be corrected somewhat with a procedure that places a gas bubble or even a band over the retina to hold it in place, detachment is a more severe condition and can sometimes lead to blindness.

In point of fact, David and I just spent time with his cousins who were caring for their daughter’s dog, who had recently gone blind from two detached retinas. “That could be me someday,” I thought as I watched him fumble around and try not to bump into things.” Scary stuff indeed. 

As for my immediate future, there’s not much anyone can do to correct floaters. The brain eventually adjusts to them, I’m told, and indeed, I am getting used to my new steadfast companions. 

For now, I can see well with my contacts and can live with my floaters – which is what matters most. Floaters don’t cause pain, so that’s also a huge blessing.

In further validation of how blessed I am, God walked me through another incident that gave me great reason to thank God for His hand of protection. 

While preparing to cut David’s lawn, I grabbed the gas can and opened the mower cap to add fuel to the tank – something I’ve done a thousand times before. This time, however, the gas jug nozzle exploded as I pushed down on the release valve. Gas from the can splashed out onto my face as it hovered over the mower. 

Thankfully, my instinctive reaction was to clamp my eyes closed as the spray hit me. While fumbling in my pocket for my handkerchief, panic flooded my mind as I feared what possible damage might have ensued. With my eyes still forged shut, I pressed the cloth against my eyelids before opening them. Praying to God, I slowly opened my eyes, wiped again, and rushed inside the house.

After telling David what happened, I ran into the bathroom, glanced at my face in the mirror, and was shocked to see mascara lines dribbling down my cheeks, validating the amount of gas that had hit me, full force. After carefully removing my contacts, I flushed my eyes with saline and aggressively scrubbed my face, which was starting to burn slightly. 

“Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus,” was all I could say as I scrubbed my arms and dried my face. Miraculously, no harm had befallen me. “Thank you, Jesus,” was my constant refrain for the rest of the day. 

In reality, I know how incredibly blessed I am – in so many more ways than these. I am not alone, first and foremost. God is always with me, as He always has been – guiding, protecting, and loving me unconditionally. 

And I now have my husband David – my life’s greatest blessing. I feel loved daily – something absent throughout my adult life. I view these floaters as a minor thorn in my side – similar to what the Apostle Paul discussed in 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10.

Paul wrote, “I was given 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, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

While no one knows what Paul’s thorn was, I suspect everyone has something in their life that they can relate to his condition. Perhaps this is why Paul never mentions his ailment specifically. God wanted it to remain unnamed so we could all relate to it somehow. 

Paul’s optimism inspires me despite the incredible challenges he faced in his lifetime. Henceforth, I will endeavor to do as Paul did and “boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 

I will never again say I have “bad eyes,” as God gave me His eyes to see the hurt, needy, and unloved in this world. I long to see everything God wants me to and serve Him in every way I can. I know He will give me the strength and vision to do so – regardless of what my physical eyes can do.