Open my Eyes, that I may see!


Post MVA, I’m learning that “seeing” is not only about what lands on the retina, but about what my whole self can take in without strain, post MVA.

The phrase "Open my Eyes, that I may see!" has played over and over in my since realizing I have Post-Trauma Vision Syndrome. I clearly need our Master Physician to give me clarity, courage, and compassion for my own limits. Open the eyes of my heart, Lord—not just so I can look at my life, but so I can truly see what you want to do with it. This season in the Valley has taught me how easily fear, fatigue, and grief can dim the soul’s vision even when the world around me is bright.

Some days, the hardest part isn’t pain—it’s the constant effort of ordinary life. Reading can feel like wading through fog. Screens can drain me faster than I can explain. Concentration slips, not dramatically, but steadily, like trying to hold water in my hands. I’ve had to grieve the gap between what I want to do and what my body can sustain, and I’ve had to keep bringing that grief into the light with honesty.



Somewhere inside the honesty of facing my deficits and brokenness, another truth has started to emerge: sometimes my struggle isn’t only about willpower or pushing through. Sometimes my whole system is strained, and the strain is trying to tell the truth. The body notices what the heart is tempted to spiritualize away. In the valley, God’s kindness is often not a lightning bolt, its clarity, the slow mercy of naming what’s real so healing can actually begin.

The song "Open the eyes of my heart, Lord" has become a prayer to open them to our Lord's presence when I’m tempted to interpret silence as abandonment. Open them to the love he is still weaving through community, appointments, daily provision, and the quiet courage it takes to keep going. 

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