As I am typing, I’m struggling to concentrate. A couple hours ago, I got drops in my eyes to dilate my pupils for some tests.
The drops were great for the optometrist. He was able to look more clearly at the optic nerve and other parts of my eye. He is able to make an assessment and to recommend the next steps for my vision.
The drops are annoying for me. The sun was too bright. The screen is fuzzy at the moment, and my eyes are burning.
But I know that the burning will pass, that the screen will soon clear up, and that my sight can be sustained longer because of what the doctor saw. And I know that the drops were not delivered with any sense of malice.
I’m not sure I can count it joy that I encountered this testing, but I can be encouraged by what was learned. (And perhaps there is a joy in it.)
Some, not all, of the challenges we face, are like these eye drops. They allow God to see, and then to let us know, the capacity of our hearts. He, and then we, become aware of blind spots in our relationships with others. He, and then we, become aware of small treatments to reduce the pressure on our souls, stopping daily for small drops.
There are other challenges that are grueling, that take months rather than minutes to endure. And I’m not minimizing those. But perhaps our responses to the small inconveniences we encounter can illuminate thoughts and reactions that could benefit from divine eye treatment.