Trust Me

Everyone in our household has inherited the “blind as a bat” gene.  When hubs and I first got married and started going to the same ophthalmologist, the doc knew he would hit the jackpot whenever we started having children.  I think his words were something like, “they’re doomed” or some such.  And his prediction has been spot on.  All three kiddos have had glasses by first grade and have progressed steadily from there.  We can all now read the big, magnified E at the doctor’s office with absolutely no correction...and we’re proud of it!

Until recently, all but the littlest one of us have transitioned into contacts.  When your eyes are as bad as ours, the glasses are monstrous and heavy, and contacts are a welcome relief.  Baby girl has been sporting her signature pink Hello Kitty glasses for the last couple years.  Because she’s a pink lover they match nearly every outfit she owns, so all is well.  However, it’s time to get serious and play some organized basketball. 

Because I not-so-fondly remember the days of my own glasses flying across the basketball court or getting an elbow directly to the nose while wearing them, I thought it was time for her to try contacts for herself.  She was noticeably excited at the thought, and yet she was still a wee bit apprehensive of the process.  A slightly thick piece of plastic must wrap around your eyeball.  If that’s never happened to you, it can be scary.  Especially at nine.   

She big-girled it to the doctor, and answered all his questions.  She then performed her less-than-stellar reading of the random letters on the screen, was told her eyes had digressed an entire point in six months, and then left with her very own set of contacts to try.

Now to just get those suckers in……

Off we go to the bathroom, surrounded by the ever-needed saline and plenty of hand soap.  When you first start putting contacts in, you feel the need to scrub your fingerprints off as you eagerly follow the doctor’s wisdom of how important it is to have clean hands.  Thirty years later, you just hope you haven’t changed anyone’s poopy diaper in the last few minutes.  It’s all good. 

So here we go…

She began showing immediate signs of I-changed-my-mind-itis very quickly.  I listened to her and answered all the questions about what could, would, or might happen….

Can you lose the contact in your head and it float to your brain and you die?  No, that won’t likely happen.  But, rest assured, we’ve all thought it. 

Can you go blind if you leave it in too long?  Maybe, but just make sure you don’t. 

And, of course, the most prevalent…the one we all want to know…

Will it hurt?  It won’t hurt.  You will feel it, and it will feel like something you’re not accustomed to, but it won’t hurt.  This whole thing is to make life better, but it will take some getting used to. 

Ok, here we go….

“WAIT, Mom! I’m NOT ready!” 

Then deep breaths.  And then the red face.  Annnnnnd, then little tears begin to well up.  The excitement is gone.  There’s only fear now.  I see it all over her.  I noticed it as she was asking her questions, actually.  I knew this was coming.  It’s happened to all three of my children. (This very thing with our son turned out to be what we now simply refer to as The Standoff.  He and hubs stayed in our room for nearly four hours the first night of putting contacts in for him.  No one was leaving until the contacts got in.  Lots of time, tears, and negotiating later, the contacts went in and we celebrated at Dairy Queen at 9 p.m.)

I was hoping it wouldn’t happen with her.  She’s my most ready-for-anything kid.  And because she is the baby of the family, she’s seen countless contacts go into eyes in her short life.  She had even been “practicing” by sticking her finger on her eyeball and holding it there, all the while saying, “Look, Mom! Doesn’t hurt!”

Regardless.  Here we were, in stall mode.  She quickly got a wash cloth and began wiping the tears that were coming full-strength now. 

“Just give me a second, Mom.”  So I did.  Being the patient mom that I am (ahem), I gave her a full thirty seconds.  Then I began talking (shocker).

I began reassuring her that this would be for the best.  I told her that she would see so much better than before and wouldn’t have the burden of the glasses anymore.  I conjured up all of the best reasons why she would love her contacts once they were in.

She wasn’t buying it.

Fear had taken over. 

All her uncertainties gathered up, overflowed, and spilled out as tears right through those precious little -2.25 eyes.  The tears lasted for a couple minutes, and then she took one last deep breath and declared she was ready.   

Because I’ve done this several times before with her siblings, I had a little clue as how best to explain what was about to happen so that she could better relax.  Before she even heard me out, she began to flail around and push my hand away.  I stayed calm, but firmly let her know she would need to calm. it. down.  By this time, the crying turned into an almost complete temper tantrum.  Because she’s nine and we haven’t had many of those in a while, it caught me off-guard.   I urged her to get control (!) so that we could try this again. 

Back and forth we went for probably thirty minutes.  She would declare her readiness, I would then proceed, and then she would get scared and push me away.

Finally, I spoke these words to her…

“I am going to give you complete instructions.  You will need to listen to me.  If you listen to me and try your best to do what I ask of you, this will all work out.  I would never do anything to you that isn’t for your good. And I will be right here with you the whole time. But you will need to listen and try. The crying needs to stop because that’s hindering what we’re doing.  You just need to trust me.”

….As the words “trust me” were coming out of my mouth…I knew they were not just my words to my daughter about contacts. 

I knew they were the very words my Heavenly Father often speaks to me when I flail about, get scared, and simply don’t want to listen. 

How many times have I stalled, delayed, or thrown a temper tantrum when all He wanted was my simple trust.  He’s my Father.  He’s the one who knit me together in my mother’s womb.  Why don’t I trust Him?

Like my daughter, I often think it will hurt.  Like she did, I conjure up all sorts of questions and imagine the very worst happening.   And like her, I’m scared because of the unknown. 

Those are very normal and very human thought processes.  However, our Heavenly Father says the same thing I said to my little one….

I will give you simple and complete instructions.

I will be with you the whole time.

I won’t leave you.

You will need to stop being fearful.

You will need to simply trust me.

 

She finally settled down, and step by step we managed to get her contacts in.  She pushed back a few times.  She shed a few more tears.  She even had to learn how to work out the bubbles and kinks once they got in her eyes.  But once they settled, she recognized the beauty of everything around her.  She could see more clearly.  The glasses were gone.  Contacts made life better.  She finally understood. 

Wouldn’t it have been better if she had come home straight from the doctor and said, “I will do whatever you say, Mom.  I’m ready for this because you tell me it’s for my best.  I will listen to you and trust that you know best for me.”  Ok, that’s nearly far-fetched, huh?  It’s our human nature to be scared of the unknown. It’s inside of us to want to be completely in charge.  But wouldn’t it be best?  Wouldn’t it save time and heartache and tears?

It’s the same way in our walk with the Lord.  He longs for us to step out in faith and say, “I will do whatever you say.  Even if it hurts.  Even if pain is involved.  I will listen and trust you because you know what’s best for me.”

This scenario has caused me to think of the many times I fear the unknown more than I trust the Maker of the known world.  As I was putting my daughter’s contacts in, I knew the fears were unfounded.  I would never ask her to jump off a bridge or handle rattlesnakes or something else to her detriment.  I only ask her to trust me because I want something better for her. 

And so does our God. 

He simply says, “I need you to trust me….”

And when we finally do, it's beautiful.  We see more clearly.  The out of focus becomes like high definition.  We recognize His purpose and goodness in our lives. We get to experience that He is true and wise and knows best. 

Trust me....

O Lord Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you. Psalm 84:12