“Are you worried about tomorrow’s cataract surgery?” asked my daughter yesterday, her voice a curious blend of concern and curiosity.
“Not really,” I chuckled.
“Why not?” she pressed.
“Well,” I grinned, “one, because your mother is a doctor, and I’m leaving everything in her capable hands. And two, because I’m focusing on the result…”
Ah yes, the result! Bluer skies, crisper scenes, crystal-clear waters, and what a difference it would make to what I see. Suddenly, the world wouldn’t be shrouded in a dull haze, but instead explode in a riot of vibrant colour. Trees would no longer be dark green blobs; they’d stand proudly with distinct leaves dancing in the wind. Faces would sharpen, and maybe I’d discover that some of my friends had aged a little more than I thought!
“Isn’t that how life is too?” I continued, feeling philosophical. “We go through hard times, struggles that seem endless, but if we focus on what’s waiting for us at the end, it makes the journey easier.”
My daughter grinned, sensing one of my famous analogies brewing.
“Like the gym,” I continued. “You know that sore, aching feeling after a workout? Muscles screaming in protest? But you keep pushing because you know the result—better health, stronger limbs, maybe a chance to finally carry all the grocery bags in one trip without panting like a steam engine!”
“You mean, like looking past the pain?” she asked thoughtfully.
“Exactly!” I beamed. “If I focused on the cataract procedure itself, I’d be miserable. I’d think of needles, scalpels, and all those frightening things they show in medical dramas. But instead, I’m picturing blue skies, bright flowers, and clear faces. That’s what keeps me calm.”
Her face grew serious. “But what if the result isn’t what you expect?” she asked softly.
“That’s where the second reason comes in,” I said with a smile. “I’m trusting your mother. She knows what she’s doing. And even more than that, I’m trusting God. Just like your mother will guide me through this surgery, God walks us through our struggles. Even if the outcome isn’t perfect, He’s still there, guiding, comforting, and helping us see things we never noticed before.”
This morning, as I am wheeled into the operation room, I think about my words. And when my wife—places her hand reassuringly on mine, I know I am in good hands. Both hers and God’s.
I know tomorrow I will step outside and look up at the sky, and think, it isn’t just blue; it is a deep, rich azure that stretches endlessly.
And yes I’m sure, my friends will have indeed aged more than I thought—but their wrinkles will seem more like lines of wisdom than wear and tear.
Maybe we all need to focus on the destination rather than the pain of the journey—the world suddenly becomes brighter, clearer, and far more beautiful than we can have ever imagined…!
The Author conducts an online, eight session Writers and Speakers Course. If you’d like to join, do send a thumbs-up to WhatsApp number 9892572883 or send a message to bobsbanter@gmail.com
