"I Can See," said the Blind Man

Actually in this case, the eyes of a blind man weren't opened, but restoration of my 47 year-old eyes was pretty remarkable when I looked through corrective lenses.

After examining and finding the right adjustments my eyes would need, the optometrist had me step out of the examining room.

"Look toward the back of the store." he instructed me. Fuzzy, everything was fuzzy. Therein laid my frustration.

"Now, watch this," the doctor said as he held a pair of lenses over my eyes.

I gasped in amazement at how clear everything appeared. When the optometrist removed the lenses, I wanted to take them out of his hands and hold them to my eyes again. I liked seeing clearly.

How long had I struggled with my eye sight, I wondered.

I had become a little concerned when the numbers on the microwave had started to appear blurry. I convinced myself that it wasn't my eyes; the microwave was old. After all, it did stop working not long after my first blurry encounter.

What about street signs? How long had I gone without really reading them? I couldn't remember. The routes I traveled were embedded in my memory, so reading street signs wasn't important.

Excuses and compensations. I didn't realize how much I had done both until one day traveling home at night, I noticed all of the street lights in the distance looked liked twinkling stars. From that point on, I focused on what I could and could not see. It only took a couple of days before I made an appointment to get my eyes checked.

When I got the call that my glasses were in the store, I dropped everything I had been doing to go get them. I was a little excited. That is until I actually put them on.

I tilted my head up, down, and sideways. I looked from one side of the glasses to the other and realized everything wasn't perfectly clear.

"You'll need to get use to moving your head in order to see properly." The technician said.

Moving my head? I thought all I needed to do was put them on. Did I have a lot to learn.

The novelty of the glasses wore off in the time it took to drive home. I wanted to see clearly, but didn't expect that I would need to adjust the way I looked at things in order to get the clear vision I desired. The last few days have been interesting as I have tried to adjust to my corrective lenses.

Excuses and compensations. How often have I used them when trying to see life clearly through my own eyes.

At times God will say to me, "Now watch this," and He will open my eyes so I can clearly see what He desires to show me. Once my eyes are opened, it is easy to see how distorted everything had been.

It's amazing how different my world looks when I look through God's corrective lenses. Often times, some adjustment is needed, but seeing clearly is worth it.

Now, where did I put my glasses?

Recalculating

Several weeks before Christmas, my husband got a GPS. For those of you who get lost in the ocean of acronyms as I do, GPS stands for Global Positioning System. Through the use of a satellite system, the GPS's goal is to get you from one place to another without getting lost. Christmas arrived early in the Perkins' household for my husband when that box arrived.

Content to leave him with his new toy, I opted to go to the grocery store. I should not have been surprised when he wanted to go with me and bring the GPS. We sat in the driveway almost ten minutes as he attempted to program the navigational system.

"Honey," I tried to be patient, "It only takes five minutes to drive to the store; I could have been there by now."

His focus was so intense he either didn't hear or ignored me.

With a broad smile, he attached his new toy to the windshield.
"Drive point 2 miles and turn left at the yield sign." A tranquil woman's voice commanded me from the small object.

Complying, I backed out of the driveway and followed orders. Everything was fine until the second command.

"At the four-way stop turn left and drive 1 point 5 miles." I glanced at my husband. At the four-way stop we were to go straight, not left. The store was only nine-tenths of a mile away. Why would I go 1.5 miles out of my way?

"Now what?" I asked.
"I don't know."

For a few moments we remained at the stop sign, both of us probably pondering the same question. Do we go the way we know or do we trust the GPS and go where it was directing us? I was driving; we went straight.

As we watched the screen of the GPS and the little directional car going passed the highlighted route, the GPS responded with "Recalculating." Almost immediately it programmed in the usual route we took to the store.

Recalculating is a word we hear a lot when we are going to familiar locations. The GPS desires to take us one way and we often will choose to go another. On familiar outings after several "recalculating," the voice of the GPS will be silenced. Even with no sound, the screen of the device continues to show we are off of the chosen path. The little gadget will continue to recalculate until we are on the same route in order to get us to our destination.

I've come to appreciate the purpose of the GPS. It will do whatever it can to keep us from getting lost. Even when we take wrong turns or choose to go a different route, it will recalculate to help us arrive to our chosen location.

There are times when I know God wants to do some recalculating in my life. Either I've gotten lost along the way or opted to take some wrong turns. But God, being God, doesn't want me lost and will recalculate and redirect me in the right direction. At times when He recalculates and I don't want to listen, I silence His voice. Usually, I find myself totally lost. As I begin listening to His voice again, He redirects me. Just like the GPS, God doesn't want me lost and, if I will listen, He will direct me to His chosen location.

Recalculating.

One of these days when the GPS directs me to a familiar location using a different route, I may follow. Who knows, I could see something new and it would be worth choosing not to follow a familiar path.