An Eye for Trouble

Last week, something crazy happened. 

I have plans to blog about the SBC in better detail next week when VBS is over and I have the time and coherency to put more than two thoughts together in one sitting (it’s a challenge even now, y’all), but this story from the SBC fits so well into the “files of the bizarre and strange” that I had to tell it here and now.

As a preface, I have to tell you that I have a problem eye.  Literally, this eye is a problem.  When I was three, my parents noticed that it was roving and roaming on its own, looking for trouble, when my other eye was content to stay on the straight and narrow.  The doctor would call this a “lazy” eye, but I think it would be more apt to call it a “busy” eye, because that eye was going everywhere!  It was diagnosed, treated, and trained, for lack of a better word, and I was out of glasses forever by the age of twelve, with perfect vision and no way of telling at simple glance which eye was the troublemaker.

Until college, that is.

I had the privilege of serving on a summer revival team when I was twenty, going from small church to small church, leading children and youth evangelism outreaches.  Part of our outreach was a Frisbee activity, and during my FIRST WEEK of flinging Frisbees to and fro, I managed to step right in front of one of my teammates, just as he was throwing one.  My eye for trouble took the impact… and earned me a trip to the only ophthalmologist in town, who was, incidentally enough, also the only hot, single man in town.  Which would have been a big win had I not looked like Quasimodo when I had to go in and see him.  He told me that “you got hit really good!” and told me that I needed to be more careful with that eye.

He should have told that eye to be more careful with me. 

Fast forward to seminary, where Wes and I, madly in love and engaged to be married, were walking across campus hand in hand one day after class.  Ahh, young love.  As we were making plans and talking about the future, Wes pulled me right off the sidewalk, as he was prone to do in those days, backed me up against a big, huge tree, and leaned in with a smile for a very romantic kiss… just as a berry from one of the tree branches fell RIGHT INTO MY EYE.

Seriously, y’all.

I shrieked and stumbled around for a while, trying to get the thing out because it had somehow gotten lodged in there, all the while telling Wes about how this eye is trouble, trouble, trouble. Thankfully, that mishap didn’t result in a visit to the doctor… but I don’t recall Wes ever pulling me in for a kiss underneath a seminary tree for a good long while after that.  (And who could blame him?)

And then, there was the whole ten mile run/flying bug debacle of 2011.  Ulcers on my cornea, pain, my body revolting, horrifying pharmacists all over Oklahoma — I won’t bother retelling it here since I’ve already told it here. (You’re welcome.)

Clearly, I have an eye for trouble.  Literally.

Which is why I shouldn’t have been surprised during the last few minutes of the SBC meeting when, halfway through the final address from the podium, the string on my nametag snapped right off, and the medal rod on the end lodged RIGHT INTO MY EYE.  Holy.  Cow.  The SAME EYE!

Rather than inducing shrieks and stumbling, however, this just made me laugh out loud.  I pulled it out (yeah, it was STUCK in there) and put a Kleenex on my eye, all while Wes tried to quietly assess the damage.  As I continued to try and stop laughing as I sat there, holding the tissue to catch all the “eyeball juice,” I chanced a look over at him and whispered, “how bad is it?”  He looked at me, thought for a moment, and said, rather diplomatically, “Well… it’s pink.  But you’re beautiful.” 

I excused myself and went to the bathroom, where my eye for trouble was already RED, not pink, and swelling.  And where I was once again greeted by a face to rival that of Mad Eye Moody.  Good grief.  At this point, it was also starting to hurt. Darn you, crazy, lazy eye!  Why are you such a troublemaker?!

I’m happy to report that this eye mishap ended peacefully enough on its own, without medical intervention.  Perhaps all the attacks done to this particular eye have left it weak and unable to wreak havoc of the magnitude that it was once capable of engineering.

Or perhaps it’s just gathering strength for the next time… stay tuned!   

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