reaching for (7.13am)

i have spent almost thirty years reaching for black-framed glass or slipping thin discs of sight onto eyes just to see my world.

to read learning at the front of classroom. to scribble hundreds of notes with i-think-he-likes-you-what-are-we-wearing-later-best-friends-forever-i-love-you-so-much.

to giggle and dance in front of mirrors. to check that pretty painted on is in its right place.

to look into the eyes of the man i married for life—making promises.

to sift through photos that journal then and now.

to stumble towards in the night fevers and thirst and cannot sleep. to run to my daughter when night terrors struck and i wasn’t even me to her.

to write my heart on paper or plastic keys.  line after line after line.

today is bringing me freedom to open eyes to sight naturally after red laser dances a redo on them.

i am saying goodbye to this one reaching for. feeling foolish for the tears.

maybe they come with grateful for a life of practice.  so much practice in reaching for that it comes without thought when i cannot. 

cannot see. cannot move forward. cannot be certain. cannot undo.

and like the familiar feel of fingertips on black frames just out of sight. i feel my savior’s presence.


“let us draw near to god with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings…. let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.”

Hebrews 10:22-23 (NIV)


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