Winter Stars, Everywhere...

Last night, as we drove past the Galleria, all aglow with Christmas lights, I found a bit of beauty hidden in my physical imperfection.  I have been near-sighted for most of my life.  I will never forget discovering my need for glasses.  In the process of giving a fellow student a hard time, I swiped her glasses from her desk, and put them on my face.  My first thought was about how I could see the blackboard.  I just assumed everyone squinted to see the board.  A week later I had my first pair of glasses.  Once in the car, I asked my mother to drive me around town, as I wanted to see everything for the first time.  Leaves and grass are the biggest visual events missed out on.  What was once a big green blur, became clear, with thousands of leaves flickering with the movements of the wind.  Yet, last night, I found myself enjoying my defect.  One of the most beautiful sights, is to look at Christmas lights without my glasses on.  With them on, I see the bulbs, their shape giving them a mechanical, artificial (yet still wonderful) look about them.  Whenever I use my naked eyes, all of those lights blur into a perfectly beautiful sea of stars.  The closest thing I can equivocate it to for those of you blessed with perfect vision, is how lights blur out in movies or photos.  Honestly though, even that isn't quite right.  In the movies, the lights blur into massive spots.  To my eyes, they blur into a shape resembling luminescent snowflakes, thousands of them.  So, while I do wish I had perfect vision, my heart was moved and thankful for the odd and unexpected beauty that could only be found in my imperfection.  As great as it would be to be able to spin this into a metaphor for something, I don't want to.  The joy was simple, and so will this post be.  I hope you had a great Thanksgiving, recognizing the one to whom all thanks is to be given.  To God be all glory.