I met two people today – both elderly and both terminally ill. They were both comfortable, and in no apparent physical pain and very much aware of everything going on around them. Both also seemed to be at peace – they understood what was before them. They were not bitter or angry. They were almost expectant – like when you see someone or something off in the distance and you squint to see what it might be; something that might look vaguely familiar; something that you or I could not see from where we are standing, but something that they are now seeing because they have gone further on down the road.
And I think of St. Paul entreating us to ‘not fix our gaze on what is seen but on what is unseen. What is seen is transitory; what is unseen lasts forever.’ This could be why as we grow older we begin to lose our sight when it comes to the physical things of this world. This world begins to get a little more out of focus – a little more fuzzy. A reminder for us to turn our gaze on to the unseen, for that is where our true destiny lies.
My two friends were now seeing clearer through lenses of hope. The hope prescribed by Christ for those with fading eyesight to help see what before was unseen. It all made me hate my own glasses just a little less.