You may not see it on my face nor detect it in my voice, yet sometimes my soul’s pulse weakens. Faint, little soul beat ~ tiny little blips on the screen. “Beep … pause … beep … longer pause … and so on. It’s when life’s sorrows hit hard.

Three months have passed, yet it seems like yesterday that our life on this earth changed forever. Saying “goodbye for now” to our son pulls at the heart and siphons strength right out of our core. The feelings color my world somber grey.

The Word calls it “light affliction which is but for a moment.” There’s nothing that seems ‘light’ about this burden! The moments stretch across a span as if the clock was halted in time. I can’t ~ no, I won’t move forward ~ not in this moment’s affliction. Moffat calls it “the slight trouble of the passing hour…which results in a solid glory past all comparison.” My vision no doubt is impaired, because, in this moment, I’m missing the one who once was seen.

“While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen … fixing our eyes on what is unseen … for the things that are seen pass away, but the things that are unseen endure forever.” Fixing my eyes on what is unseen begs a lens change.

Just verses before, Paul writes “for which cause we faint not. Knowing that He which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus…[vs 14]. The outward man wears down, yet the inward man is refreshed from day to day.” Fixing our eyes on Jesus surgically changes the viewpoint of the lens.

Things seen = blindness. Things unseen = lens change. 20/20 spiritual vision = eternal glory and solid reward out of all proportion to our pain.

Off to the Eye Doctor!