The Catbird Seat

According to my optometrist, I have 20/20 vision.

Yet I was born with both a “lazy eye” (amblyopia due to ptosis, or eyelid drooping) and congenital cataracts in both eyes.

Neither are said to affect my eyesight, per se, although both have had a profound effect on how I see things, both literally and metaphorically.

When a child has significant ptosis, the eyelid partially (or in severe cases, completely) obstructs the vision of that eye. If caught very early, and corrected well, the person’s eyesight and vision are barely affected.

If the eyelid is left uncorrected while the brain and vision are developing in infancy and early childhood, the person’s ability to visually perceive and process images is affected greatly.

It’s not an issue of eyesight, but one of perspective; i.e. the anatomy of the eye is intact and functions properly, but the part of the brain that registers, catalogues and interprets images does not receive the complete image. The “meaning”, then, that the brain assigns to the image may be altered.

Today I had the realization that my view of my husband is much like the vision of my eyes.

I’ve seen him at his worst and at his best. I know a lot of his insecurities, many of his deep, dark secrets, and most of his weaknesses, both personally and professionally. I see what he’s like behind closed doors, and, like all of us, some of it isn’t good.

You might say I see it all: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

With 20/20 vision.

It’s not my eyes, however, that evaluate the images.

It’s the brain that gives the images meaning.

In case you haven’t noticed, I love my husband.

And because of that, I think my husband is one of the smartest, hardest-working, most gifted youth ministers in the world. I think he’s interesting and original. I think he cares about teenagers more than most people, including some who have teenagers in their own homes. And I think that his heart for God and the church is so huge that sometimes the passion and intensity that come from it scares people to death.

Of course, not everyone sees this about Paul. In fact, no one does, probably, except me and God.

This view of my husband is particularly strange, considering that I have had the opportunity to see many (if not all!) of his faults.

It’s like I have a 20/20 blindspot.

The images come in from my eyes perfectly straight and accurate, and they come out of my brain with a very distinct bent toward the positive.

I know without a doubt that Paul’s visual acuity of me (and the meaning his brain assigns to the information it receives) functions exactly the same way. To others I may be unattractive or just plain ugly, but to Paul, I am beautiful, through and through.

It has occurred to me that this is why we are described in the Bible as “the bride of Christ.” Though he sees us for what we are, His love for us serves as a 20/20 blindspot through which we are “righteous in His sight.”

If we could see each other through the eyes of a loving spouse, our opinions of one another would be altogether different, don’t you think?

How much better would we “view” one another if we had the eyes of God himself?!

Filed under: General, Catbird, Like a fire, Random Thoughts on July 31st, 2006