I’ve just stepped on my glasses.
They were on the bed and fell to the floor. I did not notice them down there, as I put my foot forward. While re-aligning the right arm, I realised I had a dilemma.
If I was wearing my spectacles in the first place, then I would have been able to see that they were lying on the floor, but they would not have fallen off the bed if they were actually on my face.
I don’t wear them often. Not because I’m in denial of my myopic state, but because I simply do not like the feel of them on my face…
This is the point where:
The wise say, “Well get contact lenses.”
The spiritual say, “Well pray for healing.”
The choleric say, “Oh, stop moaning and just wear them.”
The judgemental say, “There’s nowt wrong with them – you’re just being vain.”
The entreprenuerial say, “Have you thought of laser surgery?”
The unsympathetic say, “Be grateful you are not blind.”
No pennies for sight
This brings my mind right back to my single days when my friend Jules and I used to attend a large church in London. She was p.a. to one of the magazine editors but as the job was a voluntary one, she struggled financially. One day she lost the contact lens in her left eye. Not being able to afford to get it replaced, she resorted to walking around with one lens in and one lens out.
One day just before the afternoon family service, she asked me to follow her to the toilets. “Do I have to?” I replied. “I need to get something done before the music begins.“Yes you do!” She pleaded. “I can’t see!”
Mind the trench!
So for fun, I took my glasses off to see what it was like for two squinters to walk along a blurry path of chairs, out into the corridor, down two flights of steps to the lavatories at the end of the hallway.
There is a verse that says, “If the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into a ditch.” (Matthew 15:14) I understand the meaning of that more clearly now. To both of us, it looked like the people around us had no heads.
However I am pleased to say that Jules did not lead me into a mucky trough. Instead, she lead me to the heights of praise every time I heard her sing to the Lord. There was such a beautiful anointing of peace in her voice that people would literally fall at her feet and cry after she performed a song. They would lay there sobbing and thanking her for her obedience to minister to them, even though it was clear that it took everything in her to get onto that stage and pick up the microphone. Unlike the other regular singers, delivering notes and words to an audience was not an easy feat her her. Not being an attention seeker nor prideful of her God-given gift, she would shake with nerves before any performance she was asked to do. All she was wanting was be obedient, not a show-off. So as she sang, people found it easy to look past the human and see Jesus standing there with his arms open wide.
I count it a privilege to have witnessed someone with such a talent promote God and not herself. As the years went by, she gained enough confidence to be able to sing the last track on the church’s album. The song was simply entitled, “Thank you.”
I have played that album many times when I have had friends round but very quietly so not to compete with the conversation. Without fail, each time “Thank you” starts playing, my guest would stop mid sentence, stare at the music player as if in a trance and exclaim, “Who’s that?!” I’m not sure if it’s proper English to place an exclamation point after a question mark, but it illustrates the emotion that I witness.
Life has not been easy for my beloved friend, but God is holding her in the palm of his hand because through it all, she is still singing thanks despite the pain. And God is hearing something far more lovely than you and I could ever imagine.