The day I opened my eyes, I thought perhaps I’d see with incorruptible sight. But I opened my eyes, black retina widening, adjusting to the darkness of this world. Black world spins into focus (or is it out of focus?).

Tentative eyes take in these scenes; I’m a trembling soul seeing through darkened soul-sight. It’s the never enough, the overwhelming emptiness of a life, the insanity of insecurity that grind against the heart.

Vision blurs.

I’ve set my eyes parallel with darkness. I see the fuzzy outline of pain, the smudged lines of a stubborn belief in the ugly. I see the fading perimeters of failure and façade, the blurring visage of fear.

Like stepping through a wilderness of brittle cacti, it’s needles burrowing deep into soft flesh, the poisonous lies of a world gone mad burrow deep into the heart.

Lies I see, lies I believe, lies I become.

Cataracts invade, vision corrupts.

Perhaps I’m in need of new eyes, in need of seeing through His eyes. It’s been long looking through eyes that see only darkness and fear. Perhaps the way to cure deep-rooted cataracts is in adjusting soul-sight, in maintaining eye contact with Him. Perhaps it’s watching what is reflected in His eyes, a constant seeing through His eyes.

Perhaps the way we perceive the world is determined by whose eyes we see it through, and maybe it’s the way we see that determines the way we live.

Father, give me Your eyes. Eyes to see humanity the way You see, eyes to see the face of Jesus in every aching soul. Give me Your eyes to see grace and glory and a God only good. Put my world into perspective. Let me see my life as a priceless gift purchased by His scars.

Like a crystal broken and shattered, a million splintering shards piercing the heart, He broke at the cross–love let loose.

Let love transform my soul-sight, the very way I live and breathe.

His love I see, His love I believe, His love I become.

Father, give me Your eyes.