The Diagnosis That Changed My Focus

I talk a lot about food. Food is my comfort zone. Everyone likes food, so it feels like a safe topic. I share about my 2 girls from time to time, and occasionally I carry on about whatever day-to-day stuff is going on in my Instagram stories. You know, small talk. I don’t bring out much of the life-y stuff, because frankly I haven’t experienced a whole lot of super hard obstacles in my life.

But at 29 years old, I never saw something like this coming. It’s not cancer or a super rare form of who knows what that I’m dealing with, and praise the Lord for that, but it’s a diagnosis that has completely rocked my world this week, and I’m opening up and allowing myself to be vulnerable and share it with you.

Last week I had a visit with a retina specialist that confirmed I have myopic macular degeneration in my right eye. I noticed around Thanksgiving that my vision was fuzzy in that eye, so I went in to my regular eye doctor. I’m extremely nearsighted – about 3-4x that of a typical nearsighted person. I already knew that much. I was just expecting for my prescription to change and to get a new set of contacts, but I landed myself a visit with a specialist. This wasn’t the first time, either. I’ve been told that my eyes would be an excellent case study for students studying to become ophthalmologists. What a compliment.

Basically, there are a ton of unknowns right now. We’re unclear as to if this is a progressive form of macular degeneration. If it is, I could become legally blind within 10 years. If it’s not, that’s great, but we know enough to know that I will never be able to see clearly out of my right eye again. It’s faded enough that no glasses, contacts or surgery can correct it.

I pray it doesn’t progress. The mere thought of not being able to see my babies clearly – and that possibly happening in the not too far future makes me physically feel sick – like I could throw up right now. Having to give up my drivers license before I’m 40 could be a serious reality for me. Becoming dependent on someone else to tell me what’s going on around me could be very real. I don’t want to have to ask someone else if my baby hit the softball out of the park, or if she landed that cheer stunt she was working so hard on. I don’t want to take someone’s word for it that the smile my girls flashed as they walked across the stage in their pageant lit up the room. I want to see it myself. But I might not get to. We just don’t know right now.

But even through all of this, I know this much. God has ways of changing your focus. In my case, it’s been quite literal. I’m reminded of Paul (gosh, I love Paul) who cried out to God to remove the thorn from his flesh, but God reminded him that His grace was sufficient for him. I’m reminded of Jesus himself regarding his upcoming death on the cross, who cried out to the father “Lord, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me. But not my will Father, but as you will.”

That’s what I pray. Sure, I pray for healing. I pray for my doctors as they study my eyes. I pray that I will not have to face not being able to see my children and husband clearly. But more than anything, I pray for God’s will to be done through me, and I pray that I never have any doubt, fear or dread over what’s to come. My God goes before me and makes a way for me. There’s nothing coming for me that God hasn’t already been there. He’s equipped me for everything that is to come.

And even if my vision declines, if I become disabled at a young age, if I’m never able to see things clearly or if I lose my vision entirely – whatever happens – God is still so so good. Not my will, but Yours. That’s my prayer through all of this. Thank you, Father, for shifting my focus. You know exactly what you’re doing and I praise you through it.