As if being mistaken for a boy and wearing my brother’s hand-me-downs wasn’t awkward enough, growing up I was cross-eyed and wore glasses. When kids called me “four eyes,” their words added one more wound to my already hurting heart.
At night, curling up in bed on our Oregon farm, I often prayed. One night I was filled with a warm, peaceful assurance that by the time I was 13 I would no longer need glasses. Sure enough, by the time my thirteenth birthday rolled around, my eyes were strong and straight. I didn’t need glasses again for nearly three decades.
When life hurts, it is easy to feel alone and abandoned by God. If he loved me, surely he wouldn’t allow me to suffer. Yet, Scripture says not only that God loves us, but that he is love.
To keep reading, please join me on my summer blog tour as I share the rest of this column at fellow Redbud member and encourager Judy Douglass’ blog “Kindling.“
