Like many mornings on the Race, we laced up our sneakers, or for some, slid on our already worn out chacos, and set out bright and early, departing from the house not really sure exactly where the day would take us.
We followed our Pastor's lead and after a surprise solid 45 minute walk straight right on through town and then some, we arrived here:
We had no clue what God had in store for us up those stairs and through that open door. But we took off our shoes, and entered the home, without thinking twice, making our way into the living room.
And in that tiny living room, we found a quaint old lady sitting on a couch. There was a foul odor in the air and piles of dog feces staining the carpet all around. Tatiana was her name. She humbly welcomed us into her home and within 30 seconds of her talking, a fountain of tears began to flow from her face. These were genuine tears of thankfulness and outright unbelief that a group of total strangers would come and visit her and spend time with her on this random September morning. She began to tell us her story. And simultaneously our hearts began to stir for her.
When Tatiana became pregnant with her son, the man to whom she was pregnant gave her an ultimatum: get an abortion or continue the relationship with him. She chose for her son to have life, and her lover walked out the door.
During her pregnancy, Tatiana developed vision problems. She gave birth to her son but she has never seen him. She acquired total blindness. The doctors said that after the delivery, they may be able to fix her eyes. She went forward with surgery to correct the problem, but the doctors cut the wrong nerve. The surgery was to no avail. All Tatiana sees is blackness, even when she goes outside, blackness corrupts her sight and masks her vision of the beautiful world that God has set out before her.
Tatiana has been living completely blind like this for 21 years. She knows loneliness like she knows the sound of her own voice. Every day she sits on that couch as the minutes tick by, without a single visitor, until her son, to whom she is completely dependent on and has never seen, comes home to tend to her. He is her primary caretaker. On top of taking care of her he also goes to school and works. He prepares her meals and washes her clothes. Without him, Tatiana would certainly be in rough shape.
As a part of our home visits, and as properly prepared World Racers, we had our guitar with us. As Tatiana sat there content on that couch and basking in her thankfulness for our presence there, we broke the silence with the sweet sound of praises to Jesus echoing off the walls. The words to Open the Eyes of My Heart rolled off our tongues and fell on that room:
Open the eyes of my heart Lord,
Open the eyes of my heart,
I want to see You. I want to see You.
To see You high and lifted up,
Shining in the light of Your glory.
Pour out Your power and love,
As we sing holy, holy, holy.
My teammate Jillian continued to strum the guitar and we laid hands on Tatiana and prayed.
"Then Peter and John placed their hands on them, and they recieved the Holy Spirit." Acts 8:17
We prayed fervently and enthusiastically, lifting our prayers up to the Lord. and asking for healing. And after that we talked. And listened. And prayed. She thanked us for coming and we thanked her for having us. As we were getting ready to leave, my sister Courtney chimed in and said she felt like God was telling her to kiss this woman's eyes before we left. Excuse me, what? Did you just say that God wants you to kiss this woman on the eyeballs? To pucker up and smooch her blind eyelids? Welp, I'm all about obedience to the Lord and encouraging my lovely teammates, so…let's do this.
"Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as obeying the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice…" 1 Samuel 15:22
We gathered around her again and Courtney dove right into a passionate prayer. Her heartfelt words induced tears, she began to cry and so did Tatiana. As this was going on, the Spirit in that room triggered tears to swell up in my eyes as well, I closed them tight, choked down the lump in my throat, and caught myself singing once again. But this time, I was singing on behalf of Tatiana.
Open the eyes of my heart Lord,
Open the eyes of my heart,
I want to see You. I want to see You.
To see you high and lifted up,
Shining in the light of Your glory.
Pour out Your power and love,
As we sing holy, holy, holy.
As Courtney finished praying, she leaned over and kissed Tatiana on both of her eyes, gently and lovingly. I was so proud of Courtney for obeying the Lord, despite how ludicrous I thought her initial suggestion was. We said our goodbyes, I looked Tatiana square in the face and said, "God bless you." I'm not even sure if she understood what I said but she was wearing a smile the size of a watermelon slice and gazing right back into my eyes. As we left her house and I shut the door behind me to the rusty green gate that guarded the perimeter, I knew without a doubt that Tatiana saw that morning. Even though she's never set her eyes on the sight of her own son, that morning, she saw The Son.
"For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." 2 Corinthians 4:6
Blackness masks Tatiana's imperfect eyes, but her heart is healthy and able to see. And what an honor it is that God would use us, a bunch of ragtag American missionaries from all over the states, to be His face and His voice and His presence and His light in this world and with Tatiana that very morning. God without a doubt opened the eyes of Tatiana's heart.
