Her eyesight shut down as she was rounding the curve, her vision returning – thankfully – nearly as quickly as it had gone and just in time to avoid the bridge abutment and save all the kids on the school bus for which she was the driver.
The ophthalmologist told her she needed glasses.
The optometrist – who would have fitted her with corrective lenses except for what he saw in her dilated eyes – said she needed surgery. He was right. A tumor the size of a ping pong ball had impinged upon her optic nerve and one of the best neurologists in the country performed an eight-hour surgery just days later.
Though she would lose fifty percent of her eyesight, ending her school bus driving career, the tumor was benign for which of course all her family was forever thankful, not the least of which was me, her husband.
That was many years ago and only last year did I lose her to cancer after 50 years of marriage.
Love – and for that matter, our own physical and mental and emotional and spiritual well-being – has so much to do not with what we see, or the ability to see, so much as love has to do with whom we see.
Commentators on Proverbs 15:30 differ as to what is the intended in these words:
“A cheerful look brings joy to the heart; good news makes for good health.”
Gill believes the “cheerful look” has to do with observing “green gardens, flowing rivers, pleasant meadows, rising hills, lowly vales, herbs, plants, trees, birds, beasts, and creatures of every kind.”
Keil and Delitzsch, on the other hand, believe the emphasis should be placed not on what one sees so much, but rather upon being in the company of someone you love in such a place seeing the same thing.
Together.
Hand-in-hand.
They write that what is in view here is “a love-beaming countenance, a countenance on which joyful love to us mirrors itself, and which reflects itself in our heart, communicating this sense of gladness.”
It’s hard to imagine, after a spring shower, something more beautiful, than observing the delicate, exquisite, intricate artistry – like a portrait – of two red tulips side by side.
It’s hard to imagine, after climbing a mountain, something more awe inspiring than standing there, breathless, viewing other mountains across forested valleys, their peaks fading in the distant haze.
It’s hard to imagine, after a fun day at the beach, something more joyful and wistful than wishing upon a star, glowing embers like fireflies rising to meet them, winking out in the night sky from the beach fireside.
But there is.
It’s someone who turns away from being in such a place having looked at such beauty, and who then turns to look at you.
Beautiful David