I see it in the eyes around me. Like chapters written in silence. Histories of love and sometimes pain.
Their eyes speak of trust or betrayal, of innocence or hidden shadows. Eyes telling stories, like whispers from the soul, radiating outward from the heart.
They reflect a person’s nature, a quiet unveiling of their character. How it works, I cannot say. I wish I knew. But I have always seen it, as clearly as an open book. And sometimes, long past, the mirror turned cold.
This gift, this quiet knowing, has spared me from mistakes that could have changed everything. It has guided me through careers, though perhaps not always for the highest good. I knew whom to trust, who to lean on, and who to avoid.
But recently, during a routine eye exam, they told me my vision was no longer correctable to 20/20 and that I would never pass another flight medical. Effectively grounded, my old chapter as an aviator had silently and permanently closed. The eyes I’ve depended on for so long have dimmed and failed me.
“For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.” 1 Corinthians 13:12
Though my eyesight has faded and my time in the skies comes to an end, I can still see the eyes of those I love. And that matters more than flight itself.
For behind the eyes of others, I’ve found light. I’ve found truth. I’ve found the rarest kind of friendship. These have never failed me.
And though the world grows blurry as I age, I hold fast to the clarity within.
Behind every glance, every hue of one’s iris, there are truths—some beautiful, some bitter. Empathy, sincerity, and sometimes deceit. There is always something behind the eyes I see.
“The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light.” Matthew 6:22
These days, I listen to the Bible more than I read it. My eyes grow tired too quickly as hours pass. But still, the open Book calls to me. Its pages are soft as a prayer, its place on my shelf set apart from others and sacred.
So as one chapter ends, another begins. What lies ahead seems blurry, but thanks to the gospel, my destination remains clear.
I just have to stay well-grounded and under His wings.
“He shall cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall take refuge; His truth shall be your shield and buckler.” Psalm 91:4
