16/11/2025
A few months ago, I had eye surgery in one eye. They went in and sewed my retina together because it had torn. My vision was not expected to improve—the hole was unusually large, and the shape was unusual. This type of tear usually happens to people in their 70s or older. I was decades early. Nothing in my medical history increased my risk.
When I asked why this happened, the surgeon answered, “Bad luck.” But I don’t believe in luck. I don’t think my life is a series of random events. I believe my steps are ordered by God, even when the path is unclear. “A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps” (Proverbs 16:9). And: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart… in all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.” (Proverbs 3:5–6)
Despite the bleak expectations, my vision did improve. I went from 20/500—meaning I was seeing at 20 feet what others could see at 500 feet—to 20/50, ten times better. It still wasn’t what it once was, but I was grateful. Deeply grateful. I thanked God because I was functional, and every day I expected complete healing despite the statistics.
“Is there no balm in Gilead…?” (Jeremiah 8:22)
Yes, there is. And His name is Jesus. For a while, I felt steady. Then, a few weeks before a major two-day exam, my other eye began acting up. I noticed gaps—blind spots—when I looked at things. My “good eye” was now doing the same thing the first eye had done. Fear tried to grip me. This eye had compensated for months; it was the reason I didn’t notice the first tear earlier. It had been dependable—and now it was failing me. And the timing could not have been more difficult. But God had not changed. “For I am the Lord, I change not” (Malachi 3:6).
The situation changed, and I felt the weight of it, but I steadied myself in God’s Word. I reminded my heart of what I knew: there is still a balm in Gilead. I said it until my spirit agreed: “There is a balm in Gilead, and no matter what it looks like, my eyes will be healed.”
This was not the end of my story. “Being confident of this very thing, that He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it…” (Philippians 1:6).
He had not brought me this far to leave me. I reflected on His past faithfulness—on what He had already carried me through. God is compassionate and kind, and His Word says He is “a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness” (Psalm 86:15).
I saw the retina specialist. They confirmed that the retina in the good eye had lifted. I asked what I could do to prevent a complete tear. My surgeon was honest—he did not know. Doing nothing might tear it. Doing something might tear it. All he could say was, “You have to wait and see what the eye will do.”
Meanwhile, my exam approached—two full days of testing—hours each day—and no updated glasses. Postponing meant postponing my life another year. Taking it meant struggling to see.
I prayed. I cried. I sought God’s direction. And after careful consideration, I chose not to postpone. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve made. The testing center allowed me to pull the screen close, enlarge the font, and take breaks to rest my eyes. By God’s grace, I finished both days. Trusting the God who has helped me every time and has never let me down, even when I have disappointed Him.
Once the crisis had settled, God began teaching me something deeper. It is often easier to trust God when the situation is impossible—when we know we cannot fix it ourselves. In moments like that, we run to Jesus.
But what about trusting Him in the everyday things we assume will always work? We trust our feet without thinking. We stand up expecting them to work. We trust our eyes without thinking. We look at something expecting to see it. Yet the truth is this: we only walk because God allows us to walk. We only see because God will enable us to see. “In Him we live, and move, and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Everything we consider automatic is actually sustained by His mercy.
And as I learn this, I hold tightly to this promise: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths” (Proverbs 3:5–6). I did not understand what was happening to my eyes. I could not predict the outcome. During my exam, I could not rely on my own strength or abilities. What I thought I could depend on without thinking—my eyes—I no longer could. But when I acknowledged the Lord—when I brought my fear, my exam, my uncertainty to God—He directed my path. He gave me courage. God carried me through.
Because the truth is: nothing is automatic. Every heartbeat, every breath, every moment of clear vision—physical or spiritual—is a gift sustained by His hands. He holds all of that, and He has me.
This is the simple thought I share today: Trust God with everything—even the things that seem trivial and automatic. “Cast all your care upon Him, for He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).