Nearsighted

When I was in third grade, I started having trouble reading the chalkboard. In our school, they were the nice, smooth green chalkboards - and when I would occasionally get called up to the front of the class to work a problem or write something on the board, I distinctly remember loving the way the chalk glided across its surface. I liked school.

I did NOT like the idea of having to wear glasses.

That was before wearing glasses became trendy. You wore glasses only as a basic necessity, nothing more. I remember the way it felt, to try on frames for the first time and see my face in the store mirror. None of them looked right, felt right, seemed right... but I couldn't see the chalkboard. My life was over.

Kidding. Sort of. But I do remember several instances involving the "joke" about four-eyes, and even moreso do I remember the way those words made me feel all jumbled up inside. Overall, it turned out fine - but I do know it was years and years before I felt entirely comfortable wearing glasses.

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Fast-forward twenty-ish years.

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My daughter started rubbing her little eyes earlier today, and I knew it was time for her nap. As we proceeded up the stairs and into her room, she kept swiveling around in my arms and looking at my face. Each time, I would smile really big at her and say "Hi!" and she would smile really big back, her three little teeth in all their glory.

When we got into her room, instead of putting her down in her crib, I took a slight detour and sat down in her glider, with the intention of rocking her to sleep.

Her little face continued to swivel around to find mine, no matter what position I held her in. Before I knew it, her fingers and hands were busily touching my nose, my teeth, my hair... and my glasses. The smudges began to multiply, as her sweet pointer finger drew imaginary drawings across the glass shielding my eyes. She figured out how to slide my glasses up and down my nose, and finally noticed my "real" eyes behind them.

And suddenly, she started giggling.

Every time she would see my bare eyes, she would laugh - and she would push the glasses back up on my nose, to cover them once more. This continued for several minutes, before she finally graced me with one last grin, and snuggled into sleep.

As I sat there, and remembered.

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All she has ever known is a mommy and a daddy who wear glasses. When I'm out in the world, I most often wear contacts because of ease - but when I get home, especially if I know I'm in for the evening or the day, the glasses return to my face.

It's all she's ever known.

If I had known back in Mrs. Dunlap's class as a nine year old, that someday my daughter would know me, recognize and love me most with my glasses on... I wonder if I would have been a bit braver at the store, when I was picking out frames. I believe I would have, because I knew I wanted to be a mommy someday from a very young age.

I am near-sighted, in so many more ways than one... and it makes me wonder, how much we all are. There is so much blurry and beyond what we can see, and we remain compromised in our near-sightedness until something or someone fixes or restores our sight.

It leaves me full of wonder, not just in the looking back, but also in the looking forward.

Lord, that You would daily fix my eyes and and redeem my heart of its nearsightedness... and thank You for giving me a daughter that teaches me of things she doesn't even yet know herself.

And God bless all the designers who finally decided to make glasses cool. Amen.