A Ramble About Blindness

Let's try an experiment. Close your eyes and cover them over with a blindfold. Alternately, when it's late at night and there are no other lights on, turn off all the lights in your house. Get to a point where you can't even see your hand in front of your face. I started doing this when I was a kid because I was fascinated with nocturnal animals. The total loss of your sight is disorienting and you begin to wonder where everything is. Fear sets in. You begin to panic a little as you don't remember how far away the wall is, or a chair that you were certain was somewhere near you a few seconds ago. Now try walking around the room. Maybe try walking from one room to another. You'll find that you walk haltingly, reaching out your hands to feel if something is in front of you, gently moving your feet afraid of kicking something you can't see. Somewhere deep inside you, the fear of someone jumping out and surprising you is building.



One thing I learned from doing this little exercise is that nothing in the room has actually changed. There is no one else in the room that wasn't there before I lost the ability to see anything. The walls are still exactly where they were before the lights went out. The chair, the table, and the sleeping dog are right where I left them. My environment around me stays exactly the same as when I could see. The only thing which has changed is my perception of it. I have changed, not the space around me.



Our relationship with God is a lot like this. He doesn't change, but we do. All too often we do something which puts a blindfold over our eyes and we can no longer "see" Him around us even when we could "see" Him perfectly well a very short time before. It becomes frightening and disorienting. Every little thing seems that much scarier as we feel isolated and alone. He hasn't gone anywhere. He hasn't moved. He is eternally right here, and right now.



I've learned to appreciate the lessons that walking in total darkness or temporary blindness teaches me. It teaches me that even if everything goes dark, I can still feel safe knowing that it is only my perception which has changed, not the space around me. It makes me appreciate my other senses more and forces me to use them. It forces me to remember and trust that everything is right where I left it when I could see, and it reminds me that God is still who He is, and where He is and to trust that even when my perception is confused and trying to tell me something else.