Living With It – Take Your Medicine

Living With It – Take Your Medicine

It was this time 47 years ago when I found out the news. I was 13 at the time and had the world in front of me. My mother re-married the month before and we were living in a new neighborhood just off of 40^th Street on a street called Palifox. Life was different for me; learning new people and how they lived. They were different from those in Belmont Heights. Not better or worse, but different.

One day, my mom felt the spirit of the Lord move her to send me to the eye doctor. I only learned that my mother followed what the Lord said to her afterwards when she told me the story. Going to the eye doctor was not unusual to me because I had worn glasses since I was eight years old, so going to the eye doctor to me was normal. Little did I know this trip would not be the usual.

I got to the doctor’s office, and he performed the routine examination. My grandfather, who we always called ‘daddy’, waited for me in the lobby. During the examination, the doctor stopped abruptly. Now when I look back on it, I know it was the spirit of the Lord, and the doctor decided to give me an examination that was not typical for me.

He had me place my chin on the rest and blew air into each eye, one at a time. This was something new. I didn’t understand any of it, but he was the doctor, so I did what I was told to do. When the exam was over, he didn’t look happy. I didn’t know what was going on, but he mentioned the word glaucoma to daddy. I didn’t know what that word meant at the time, but I knew enough to read their faces. It wasn’t good for me. The doctor referred me to an ophthalmologist for further examination.

Daddy wasn’t much on talking, most Anderson men in our family aren’t, but this particular day his face held a look of concern for his grandson that spoke volumes. I was scared and tried not to show it. Being a male and all, I believed we don’t cry. When I got in my room and was alone, the tears flowed down my face. My stepbrother, Ronald Stanley, caught me crying and he consoled me. I will never forget that moment. I thought that would be the end of my vision and I remember asking God, “Why me?”

My spirit moved me to tell this story now because after all these years, I needed to put pen to paper. Maybe my story will help someone. Forty-seven years ago, I thought I would lose my sight. I didn’t. I didn’t because I feel that God never left my side. If you know me you know I didn’t become saved until I was 30; 17 years later, but I know God was with me even when I wasn’t with Him. I know I had a praying family. Just like the song says, “Somebody Prayed for Me”. That song will always be dear to my heart.

In the past 47 years I have come to terms with glaucoma. I trust God to take care of me. He is leading the doctors to ensure I get the proper medicine to keep my sight. I use my medicine every day like I’m told to do. Some say, “Why doesn’t God just heal you?” If He did, would I know Him as well as I do? Sometimes there’s no healing because we need to know God. A kind of knowing that only comes from relying on Him. At 13 years old God spoke to my mother and the eye doctor. Because He spoke to them and… they listened, I have my vision today. I witnessed my son being born and grow up to be a man. There are so many things I would have missed out on if they had not listened to God. Most of all, I am able to give this testimony.

The bottom line is, if you are going through something medically, take your medicine. God is guiding the mind of the doctor. Trust Him. The word says in James 2:26, “… so faith without deeds is dead.” Have the faith and do what your doctor says.

Scars: Marks of Our Journey

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