Holding on to His Hand

Out of habit, I felt for the light switch in our bathroom. I flipped it on, but the darkness remained. I held my breath and my muscles tightened.

It was that day I dreaded. I knew it would come, but I held on to a glimpse of hope that my eyesight wouldn't close in completely.

In futility, I prayed and begged. My husband and I looked for treatments everywhere. Nothing offered hope. So I increased my prayers for a miracle, but God was silent.

Only months after I noticed changes in my vision, the retinal disease robbed all my vision, destroyed our dreams for me, my husband and for my sons.

On that awful day, holding onto the cold countertop, I looked toward the mirror and saw a dreary-gray nothing. I was blind!

Gene stepped in, held my hand and whispered, "I'll be okay." He gently brushed some hair strands from my face.

In the weeks that followed, I dragged my steps to accomplish the basic chores for our sons and for him. And while doing the chores at home, like mopping the kitchen floor barefoot--to feel the spots I missed--I wore a headset, listening to the Bible. A habit I formed and followed day after day, every moment I could.

Our marriage faced painful adjustments. But Gene's renewed commitment, support and patience brought sparks of light into my darkness.

"I'll stop by the store and pick up what we need," he said with a matter-of-fact tone. "And then I'll get Jason to his Boy Scout meeting."

He took over many chores, and I took a different place in our marriage. I wasn't in charge of the schedule anymore. But instead, I was dependant on his availability and his time to take over the driving, pay the bills, and help our sons with their homework.

Years swept by, turning the pages of our life together. Some were stained with the pain of losing our youngest son, others wrinkled with adjustments to unexpected financial setbacks, and the pages of my blindness were carefully taped together.

But each page tells of a man who chose to turn the worse for him into the best for me. The sweet aroma of his cologne surrounds me with delight as he prays for my day before leaving for work.

One day, as was our routine, he was reading one of the dozens of books to me. I asked him, "Don't you wish I could do that for you for a change?"

He kissed my cheek. "You do for me more than I do for you," he said. "We make a good team just the way we are, and we'll make it to the end. We have God as our coach."

In silence, I pondered his last sentence. It reveals an important truth. God was never silent. Instead, He was quietly weaving a series of events that would end up in the tapestry of victory.

God was our healer, our provider and guide.

And as Gene said, "God is also our divine coach. He calls the plays: to submit and to love."

With my eyes fixed on Jesus, I submitted to Gene's love, as required in Ephesians 5:22. And as he followed God's instructions, he handed me the crown of his devotion.

Now, I look in the direction of the mirror, and smile at my new reflection. In my mind I see the beauty of God's love. I used to grope my way around, but now I take His hand.

My steps don't hesitate anymore, they're secure and confident.

Rather than tears, I celebrate our days as Gene saw beyond the ugliness of my blindness. And with his love, he turned me into a queen.

Janet Eckles

Holding on to His Hand

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