masking & unveiling

I bought new glasses recently, a belated attempt at allowing oxygen to reach my corneas after 25 years of sleeping in my contact lenses. I figure I have to make some healthy choices occasionally, and this seemed more within my grasp than say, jogging. Or giving up bacon.

I'd needed new specs for awhile (my former pair was a dozen years out of date and made me look a little like Woody Allen), but my purchase was spur of the moment: I walked into a store at the mall on a whim and walked out with custom glasses sixty minutes later.

How remarkable, this age and this nation we live in. Everything in an instant. Choices within our choices. If we thirst, we go to the faucet. If we run out, we go to the store. If we want, we buy.

Our needs can be gratified so quickly, though, that there is no need for a God to do it for us. We push away pain and and waiting and suffering as though they are the Worst Things Possible, when in fact they are simply the trial down here that helps us be fit for — and to long for — the eternal There.

Only when I have nothing can He truly be my everything. But all too often, I am content with my one-hour glasses, instead of with knowing the One who gives sight to the blind.