Aging Eyeballs

Several years ago, I experienced one of the greatest blessings of my life: lasik. Gone were the glasses and contacts. For the first time in my life, I could clearly see the stars at night as zillions of crystal clear points of light rather than just a hazy gray area on top of a hazy black area. I could read signs waaaaaay down the highway. I could see the experessions on the faces of the people tucked far away in the back row of the sanctuary (and let me tell you, sometimes it's hard to keep a straight face!).

Of course, when I had my surgery the doctor warned me that this would correct my distance vision probably for life. But the sad truth is that all of our eyeballs are aging, even with the very best of surgical correction. And there comes a point sometime in our early to mid-40s when our reading vision begins to decline. Some folks may have a distance prescription that actually compensates for this phenomena and delays noticing the change. But, for me, it's finally beginning to hit.

A couple of years ago I began printing my sermon notes out in a bigger font. "Easier to read," I told myself. This past year, whenever I've checked out a novel from the library, I've gone immediately to the large print editions. "Easier to read," I told myself again. Even all my Bibles are now large print editions.

Still, I thought I could hold off the idea of reading glasses just a little longer. I'm really enjoying being glasses-free; I don't want to have to keep a pair of magnifying specs at the office and home. It would just make me feel... old.

But there's no denying the need now. Yesterday I sat down to ink a couple of sketches that I'm doing for a book for Hero Games, and I found myself really struggling to focus on the fine lines. If I moved further back from the paper, the lines came into focus but I lost the precision of close-up work. If I moved close to the paper, it became increasingly blurry.

After inking both illustrations, I put down my pen and noticed that my fingers were all tight from clutching the tool with the stress built up from not seeing clearly.

*sigh*

"But, Daddy, I don't wanna wear glasses again! Can't you pull off some miracle that makes me different from all the zillions of other people who have to go through this very same thing? Please? Oh, alright. I get it. Life moves forward, and our time on this earth is increasingly brief. I know that you're making me a new world for eternity, and I'll have great new ageless eyes there that can stare straight into your glory and still see with laser-sharp precision. I guess I can tolerate these aging eyeballs for a while longer. And I apologize for complaining. I realize how grateful I must be that I can see at all, and that you've filled the universe with such wonderful things to see. Thank you for the technology of optical lenses. Thank you for the years that I've enjoyed without needing glasses at all. Thank you that you've given me your Word to read and savor, even if I have to move to large print editions now. I look forward to seeing you face-to-face one day; thanks for allowing me glimpses of your presence and activity while I wait."