So I attempted to pay more attention. The line, "Was blind, but now I see," was shouting at me. Of course it's talking about finally seeing God's grace, his goodness, his love. Finally waking up to the truth of his love for us. Finally entering into salvation.
But for me, for now... I feel like my eyes have been suddenly opened in a thousand new and tiny ways. What is it that I was blind to before? What is this new world that I am seeing?
I am seeing people. And when I see them, I am seeing incredible beings, unique in every way, each one so special and so dear to the heart of God. I am finally seeing the truth that He loves each one, regardless of their appearance, abilities, or achievements. I am not talking about seeing the homeless man on the street or a disabled person in a grocery store and suddenly glimpsing God's heart for them, although that has happened. I am seeing my generous, caring friends, who have willingly walked through the valley with me this year. I am seeing my strong, thoughtful husband, who has surprised me with his steadfastness although it should have been exactly what I expected. I am seeing my precocious, sensitive seven-year-old. I am seeing my fiery, reckless two-year-old. I am seeing my sweet, special baby girl in a way I never knew was possible.
The reality is that I am beginning to look in the mirror and see me. I have spent so many years blind to my own value. I have believed that when I lose weight, become disciplined, serve better, love more, offer wisdom, only then will I finally be worthy of God's lavish love for me. Over the years, God has tried to open my eyes to the fact that his love, his grace, his mercy can never be earned. I have listened for a while, from time-to-time, but then slipped back into my old habits. My vision was always clouded. I glanced in the mirror, but my constant expectation for more from myself blinded me from seeing something beautiful. Me.
Not the me I hope to be one day, or the person I am becoming. Just the flawed, imperfect, impulsive, scratchy, icky version of myself. God loves me. And, suddenly, I can see it.
I realize that this is Sunday School 101. That somewhere along the way, I should have figured this one out before now. But it is as though I literally could not see before what is crystal clear to me now. I think of the story of the man born blind in John 9. He was blind from birth, he could not see. Then Jesus showed up and spit in the dirt, wiped mud in his eye, and sent him to wash it out. The man rejoiced, and when he was questioned about how his healing came to be, he responds, "All I know is I was blind, and now I see! All I know is he healed me!"
All I know is I was blind, and now I see! Jesus loves me enough to keep showing me, over and over again, how precious I am to him. He keeps healing my vision in new and different ways, to bring me a clearer picture of who I am in his sight. Sometimes that healing comes by getting mud wiped in my eyes. Sometimes life gets dirty. Sometimes things don't make sense. And often it is when we are willing to embrace the parts that don't make sense to us that our eyes are opened to a new and clearer vision of truth and reality.
Maybe having a baby with Down syndrome feels a bit like getting mud wiped in your eye. It felt at first like a smear on my vision of a perfect life. Then Jesus invited me to wash. Wash in the water of the word and his promises. Soak in his love for me and his comfort. Bathe in the encouragement of my family and friends. Cleanse myself with tears of joy over this incredibly precious, beautiful little girl. Wash away the perception, the worry, the fear and what is left? Me, standing here, squinting a little, and blinking my eyes in disbelief at the incredible view.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.
- John Newton
