The first time I noticed I couldn’t see clearly was in eighth grade, algebra equations blurry on the whiteboard.
I felt like a new woman after getting contacts, in awe because everything looked so crisp.
In my yearly eye exams since then, my prescription has worsened, and a little over a year ago, I started seeing double. It becoming apparent as I was driving. I had to tilt my head in a very awkward way in order to see one road instead of two. Then the double vision started happening constantly: as I watched TV, read, or sat across from a friend at a coffee shop.
I visited my eye doctor and through lots of tests, she came to the conclusion that one of my eyes is higher than the other and I tilt my head to compensate. She found a note from an appointment I had twenty years ago that read, ‘Kirsten’s dad says she tilts her head while watching tv.’
She explained that I’ve probably titled my head from birth, and my muscles were getting tired. This could be why I was seeing double. She concluded that I needed prism in my glasses to see clearly. The trick was, in order for the prism to work properly, I couldn’t tilt my head.
Unfortunately, prisms didn’t come in contacts, so not only would it be an adjustment to not tilt my head, it would be an adjustment wearing glasses every day.
The glasses arrived and for the most part, I could see clearly! I worked hard to not tilt my head and whenever I saw double, I trained myself to keep my head straight. In a couple months, I was only seeing double vision a few times a day instead of all day.
Half a year into wearing glasses, I got word from my doctor that there was new contact technology that had prisms! A few weeks later, I was a contact girl again, and they worked great, for the most part. Some days with the contacts, I saw double vision almost constantly and I’d switch them out for my glasses to give my eyes a break.
A couple months ago, I was starting to have as many bad days as good days. When it was hard for my eyes to make it through the day, I made an appointment with my doctor. She was shocked after checking my eyes that my prism prescription would increase from a level one to a level five. Before drastically changing my prescription, she suggested that I document every time I saw double for a week.
The first day of tracking was a nightmare. I logged eleven times of double vision, although I’m sure there were many instances I didn’t document, because I’d gotten so used to living with it.
In the middle of documenting my double vision, I found comfort in Mary. My mentor was visiting Lourdes, France and offered that I could write a letter to Mary that she could take to the grotto for me.
For most of my life, I ignored Mary’s existence, mostly because I didn’t understand her. I didn’t understand that her mission is to bring me to Jesus.
At the start of 2022, I decided to pray a rosary every day and it wasn’t until then that I started to truly see her as my mother. Those now-familiar beads feel like holding her hands, as she listens to the woes and joys of my heart. She’d carried me through the bliss of new relationships, the heartbreak of losing a family member, the normalcy of day-to-day life, and everything in between.
Lourdes, where Mary appeared to St. Bernadette, also has a special place in my heart. I picked Bernadette to be my confirmation saint in third grade because I thought her name was pretty. I never had a relationship with Bernadette until eighth grade when I was diagnosed with an autoimmune thyroid disorder. My dad gave me some of his precious holy water from Lourdes, and he suggested I dab a little water on my thyroid each day, asking Mary to heal it. I also asked for Bernadette’s help in the matter.
Mary never healed my thyroid and I didn’t understand why.
Since then, Jesus has helped me to that He uses everything for good, and although I still don’t understand, it’s for my good that I still struggle with an autoimmune disorder. He’s helped me to see the beauty in suffering, that I’m being invited to unite my suffering to His suffering on the cross.
As I sat down to write my letter to Mary, I felt my heart being opened to the idea of asking for healing again. It was a very vulnerable place to be. Was my faith strong enough to recognize that if healing didn’t come, it was for my good? That if healing didn’t come, it would be another invitation to unite my suffering to Jesus’ suffering?
I took a leap of faith and asked Mary to heal my double vision, and later entrusted the note to my mentor before she flew to France.
My mentor returned from Lourdes on the day I traveled to Europe with my family. It wasn’t until a couple days into the trip that it dawned on me: I hadn’t experienced double vision the whole time we were in Europe.
Had Mary healed my eyes?
My head spun with the possibility, but I didn’t want to get too excited; maybe it was just a coincidence.
A few days later, when I was still seeing clearly, I realized it wasn’t a coincidence; my eyes were healed!
It’s been six weeks since my eyes have been healed and I haven’t had one case of double vision.
The reality of the miracle hit me on the feast of Saints Peter and Paul. I sat in the chapel, with tears rolling down my cheeks as I told Paul about my experience. He truly knows the joy of seeing clearly and I felt like I was confiding in a friend who knew what I’d been through.
And then I thanked Mary, my eyes resting on the beautiful statue of her, her arms outstretched in complete surrender to God’s will. I heard her say, “Kirsten I healed your eyes physically but soon you will see yourself clearly, like I see you.”
I nodded to Mary, accepting her bold declaration. The task of seeing myself clearly always seems so daunting, like something I’ll always struggle with. But somehow in that moment, I knew that with Mary, all things were possible, that she would help me through it. That if she could carry me through the joys and sorrows, setbacks and triumphs of the past six months, she could carry me through anything, even towards complete freedom of seeing myself clearly.
I hope that we can all remember the truth today: that we have a mother in Heaven who desires to be with us, always. May we have the boldness to open our hearts to her, to allow her access to our lives, knowing that she holds our hearts in her motherly care. May we all learn from Mary the beauty that comes from complete surrender, knowing that the plan that our Heavenly Father has for us is for our good. Let’s pray with hands wide open today, like Mary.
With love, Kirst
