Imagine that one morning, you wake up and realize there’s a cloth blocking your vision. You try to pull it off, but your attempts are in vain, and ultimately you give up and accept that you’re destined to live your life in darkness. Hopelessly, you let your head fall in defeat. Then suddenly you hear a voice—someone is telling you to take his hand, saying that he can help you if you will only believe and trust him to lead you. Could you put your full trust in him?
This scenario is often what it feels like to fully trust in God instead of our own understanding (see Proverbs 3:5–6). The cloth represents our impairments in life: depression, anxiety, addiction, sickness, fear, unanswered questions, uncertainties, and so on. At times we might find ourselves blinded spiritually, emotionally, or maybe even physically, and feeling stuck and terrified to trust someone else’s vision over our own.
That clouded vision has been both figurative and literal in my life. I was born with an extremely rare eye condition. My vision has always been limited, but within the past year, I’ve lost almost all sight in my left eye. This condition is so rare that there is very little the doctors can do, and I’ve had to place every ounce of my faith in the Lord.
On a particularly hard day, I found myself falling into despair, worrying that my whole life might crumble right before my eyes—literally. And then I remembered a very timely and powerful scripture: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you” (John 14:27).
Many people spend their whole lives searching for answers and a secure understanding of the world around them. They seek validation from others telling them that they are enough. But ultimately, the knowledge that you are enough—and the eternal hope and peace that comes with it—is found through Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
The Savior didn’t say, “My answers I give unto you on your timetable” or “Healing I give unto you in every case,” but He did promise us peace. He may not remove the figurative curtains of mortality that are sometimes placed over our eyes, but if we take His hand, He can teach us how to move forward with faith, trusting that the answers will come with time. Through Him, our burdens can be made light. President Russell M. Nelson reiterated this, saying, “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.”1 And I chose to focus on Him.
After many months of being afraid to take His hand, I finally did. My sight continued to decline, but I eventually received an answer from doctors about my vision and was able to receive a surgery that could possibly help me retain some of it. There was no guarantee that this procedure would help in the long run, but I went into it knowing that whatever the outcome, the Lord had a plan for me, and this trial could bring me closer to Him if I allowed it to. Peace doesn’t always come after you’ve been healed—sometimes it comes amid the storms of life—but as you rely on the Lord, you can be sure that it will.