Losing Vision, Finding my Offering

If you watched my video this week about getting new glasses, you probably noticed the lighthearted tone. I try to keep humor woven into my videos because the goal is education and awareness about Multiple System Atrophy (MSA)—not to make people feel sorry for me.

But the truth is, this latest change has felt a little heavier than humorous.

It started when I noticed my vision had gotten blurry very quickly. I wondered if it might be a side effect of one of my medications, or maybe my slight glasses prescription just needed updating. When I went in for an eye exam, I learned it was neither.

The reason for the vision problems was that my disease has weakened the muscles that control my eyes. The blurriness I was experiencing wasn’t actually blur at all—it was double vision.

The doctor who saw me that day was incredibly kind and compassionate. I could tell he genuinely cared about what I was facing and wanted the best outcome possible for me. I sat there staring into the giant robot-looking machine while he dialed lens after lens into place, trying to make the prescription strong enough to correct my sight.

It got better.

The two birthday candles that started several hand widths apart slowly moved closer and closer together.

But even at the strongest setting… they never merged into one.

I left the office with a pair of thick bifocal glasses and the unsettling feeling that the rug had just been pulled out from under me. This development hadn’t even been on my radar. And the truth is, even with the new glasses there is still a lot that has been lost in terms of what I can see clearly—and that affects what I can do.

At first it was a discouraging blow.

My Etsy business could be affected. My art might be harder. My writing could become more difficult. I found myself wondering a question that probably sits quietly in many of our hearts at one time or another:

What do I have to offer now?

When our abilities begin to shrink, it’s easy to feel like our usefulness is shrinking too. Our culture trains us to believe that our value lies in our productivity, our skills, our accomplishments, and the things we create.

But the longer I walk this road, the more I realize something important:

God has never asked me to offer Him my abilities. He has always asked for my heart.

In the Old Testament sacrificial system, people brought offerings to the altar—animals, grain, oil, wine. But even then, God repeatedly reminded His people that the physical offering wasn’t the thing He truly desired.

He wanted their hearts.

Scripture says that “a broken and contrite heart… you will not despise.” (Psalm 51:17)

In other words, the offering God values most is not what we produce, but who we surrender.

That realization has been quietly reshaping the way I think about loss.

If my art becomes harder… I can still love people.

If my business slows down… I can still encourage someone.

If my vision fades further… my heart can still belong completely to God.

None of those things require perfect eyesight, steady hands, or impressive talent.

They simply require willingness.

So maybe the question isn’t “What do I still have to offer?”

Maybe the real question is:

“Am I willing to place my heart on the altar?”

Because that offering never becomes obsolete.

It never weakens with disease.

It never diminishes with age or limitation.

And it is the one offering God has always wanted most.

So if your abilities feel smaller than they used to… if illness, loss, or circumstances have taken things from you that you once used to serve others or serve God… take heart.

Your most valuable offering has never been your strength.

It has always been you.