"A Visionary's Redemption" by Caleb Davis

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Caleb Davis
Jan 17 2008
A Visionary’s Redemption
Imagine a life where you could tell no difference between night and day, big and small, or even black and white. Imagine a life where every step you take is a leap of faith for you never know where you are going to end up. Imagine a life where every time you wake up, there is no sunshine to greet your day. Imagine a life with no imagery. This is my story…
I was born like any other normal child. I had all my limbs, my organs worked properly, I could cry, squirm and everything else most babies could do except for one major problem. At first, I had no clue that I was any different. I ate, slept, crawled, and threw up, nothing unusual for a baby. By the time I was four, I began to realize that I was missing something, something extraordinary and crucial to any “normal” life. I remember my parents arguing and then weeping from time to time about what they should do with me. “We can not continue to shelter him like this! He needs to learn. He needs to be told how to ‘deal with his problems.’” I heard this bout many times as a young child, and each time I became more and more curious as to what they were talking about, and what was wrong with me!
When I was six years old, my parents were in the midst of another heated debate over what to do with me, but this time it was different. There was a cold, abysmal tone in their voices that perturbed me to a degree that I had never experienced before. I remember hearing some doors slam shut and then screaming. I ran to where I heard the screams coming from and found my mother’s body; limp and drenched of sweat. I cried for my father but never heard a reply. I cried for my mother to wake up and to hold me, but with every second that went by, I felt her body’s warmth lessen bit by bit until I could no longer tell the difference between her skin and the cold ground she slept on.
Life was never truly fun. After the death of my mother and disappearance of my father, I was taken in by an orphanage for the physically impaired. It was my stay in the orphanage that brought awareness of my dilemma. I heard the word thrown around in my parents arguments but never understood its meaning. It was not until I was 7 years old that I could fully grasp the concept of being blind. Who knows how my parents were able to keep me oblivious to such a huge issue for so long? All those years I had wondered why my parents were so angry and upset but I finally understood, or so I thought. The pain brought to them by my burden was too much for them too handle so they argued, a lot, and never came to terms. That is why my mother killed herself and my father ran away, I am why their lives were never blissful or happy.
For twenty years I blamed myself for the destruction of my parent’s lives. Every day I would grow to hate myself that much more. Oh how I wished I could see my face in the reflection of a mirror so that I could know the face of my enemy. I would go from day to day, never smiling and always insubordinate towards my nurses and care takers. “Care taker!?” I would scream. “You could not even begin to imagine my pains… how could you ever take CARE of me?” How could anyone ever care for me? I was alone in life; cold, numb and without a companion. The only relationships I had with other people were consumed jealousy and hatred. They would always claim that they understood, that they too felt my pain, but I knew. I knew that those words were just cover ups for the hatred they shared with me because I was nothing more than an obligation, a hassle.
I never understood the meaning of love. Not until the day that one of the care takers decided to take me on a field trip. I asked her where we were going but she would only reply with the words, “I’m taking you to meet Jesus!” I kept thinking to myself that this Jesus was going to be just like every other doctor or psychiatrist I had been taken to before. He would sympathize with me and tell me that there are others just like me and that I need to pull my self up, then prescribe some medicine and send me off, adding another chip on his shoulder of self-approval… Boy was I wrong.
I remember the place as vividly as any other memory. You could hear the music and laughter and singing all the way from where we had parked. Something was different about this place and something inside of me was beginning to turn. With ever jolt of my walking stick from the rocks on the ground I could feel my heart race faster and faster. Then it happened, the doors were opened and I was hit in the face with a feeling of warmth unlike that of any fire I stood before in my life. It was not just my flesh that could feel this warmth, but also something inside of me. Something much larger than my mind and much deeper than my belly, which was a bit surprising because I always thought that the only thing deeper than my sorrows was my belly: the bottomless pit that roared with hunger all day, everyday.
The music excited me, the atmosphere moved me, and the words broke me. After about one hour I was on my knees and praying to this man they called Jesus. He was the answer to my questions, the refuge for my pains, and the healer of my broken heart. I was never more sure of anything than the feeling I had when I heard His name in that church. He would bring me the comfort I had longed for all my life. He would guide me more accurately than the best walking stick or Seeing Eye dog that money could buy. For the first time in my life I experienced true joy. A river of tears gushed from my previously useless eyes. For the first time in my life I could see! No, it was not color or light, shape or size, or even brightness. It was truth. The overwhelming truth that I had a purpose and that someone did love me!
No longer do I waste my days by acting bitter towards the world and throwing curses at myself and those closest to me. Instead, I spend my days traveling from town to town, sharing my story of salvation and bringing the feeling of hope that saved my life. No longer do I feel cold, blind, or numb. No longer do I walk in fear.
Imagine a life where there are no true dark moments. Imagine a life where every step you take is guided completely by something greater than you. Imagine a life where every time you wake up, you feel blessed to have the warmth of the sun and joy of the Lord to carry you through the day. Imagine a life with no need for imagery. This is my story…

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