Monday, November 18, 2013

New Eyes

I remember being in the second grade, sitting in the backseat of Mama Bear's car saying, "Mom you have got to go talk to my teacher because her handwriting is sooooooo scratchy." And then getting fitted for glasses the next week. 

I remember sprinting around the doctor's office to look out of windows because I'd never clearly seen leaves on a tree or individual blades of grass or even the freckles on my very own face. I remember how good it felt to finally see.

I remember being in the fourth grade and my eye doctor telling me he thought I was responsible enough to wear contacts. I remember the first couple of weeks walking around with these little guys in my eyes being terrified that one would unexpectedly pop out and I would be helpless, without sight. As the years went on though, I stopped worrying. They became so familiar to me that I stopped remembering I was even wearing them. They became my invisible lifeline to the world of sight.

I remember all of these things because last week I lost my contacts for three days and it was the worst. Having peripheral vision even with glasses? Not a chance. Wanna go on a run? Forget about it. It was awful and I actually cried about it at one point. But just as I was sitting in the middle of my floor so mad at myself, I remembered the joy I had the very first time I put on a pair of glasses.

Our desperate need for Christ is not circumstantial and does not lessen with time just like I will always need help seeing every single day. King David rights a psalm where he says, "Restore in me the joy of Your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me (Psalm 50:12)." I want the joy I had in the beginning of my walk with Jesus. I want to run around with a new eyes seeing the world that He created. I want to savor the joy of life with Jesus forever.

For me, following Christ is sometimes a hard balance between being comfortable to sit in his love and constantly being blown away by that same love. My feelings ebb and flow and I let my joy follow their current. Maybe I'll never truly figure out the balance, but I know that Jesus is just as sweet today as he was the summer day that I gave my life to him eight years ago.

So here's to old joy becoming new. Here's to beauty made from ashes.