RP

Unfortunately, I'm not blogging about Ramsey Potts, my good friend and former AFLAC boss. Instead, I'm referring to Retinitis Pigmentosa, the genetic eye condition that my husband has. He was diagnosed when he was 12.

You might not know much about RP, or even know that it exists. I didn't, before I met Wesley. The disease can be described, at its most basic, as retinal degeneration. Genetic mutation leads to abnormalities of the eye's photoreceptors (rods and cones), which leads to progressive vision loss. Like most RP patients, Wesley is affected most by the loss of his rods. "Because rods are concentrated in the outer portions of the retina and are triggered by dim light, their degeneration affects peripheral and night vision" (Foundation Fighting Blindness). Other RP victims suffer loss in color perception and central vision when their more centrally located cones are affected. Wesley has severely limited periphery--so much so that he is unable to drive--and limited night vision. These pictures, courtesy of the National Eye Institute, demonstrate the difference in vision that RP patients experience.

I don't know if Wesley's vision loss is that extreme or not. I have often wished I could see the world through his eyes. Because he's lived with the disease for so long, he has found ways to make up for his loss of peripheral vision. He is always conscious of his surroundings. I would imagine his hearing is more sensitive than most. If you look down when he goes up stairs at night, you'll see him kicking at the ground to feel where the steps are. Once he goes up one or two, he gets in a rhythm and you'd never know he couldn't see where he was going. He becomes familiar with his surroundings and depends on that familiarity to aid him when his vision fails him.

An estimated 100,000 people in the US suffer from Retinitis Pigmentosa. Statistically, most of those 100,000 people are or will be legally blind by the age of 40. With care of retinal specialists and ever-increasing treatments, however, Wesley's future is not entirely dim (no pun intended). Yes, I find great hope in modern science, but my ultimate hope is in the One who designed Wesley's retinas with His hand. "Who gives [man] sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the LORD?" [Exodus 4:11b] (I should note that I rejoice that Wesley only suffers physical blindness and that God has been pleased to reveal Himself to my husband. His eyes are not blinded spiritually. Let this never cease to be a truth at which I rejoice!) As far as his physical impairment, there is not a single part of the me that doubts God's ability to heal Wesley at any moment--even as I type this. I pray every day that God would choose to display His glory and heal my husband. My husband rests every day knowing that God's glory can be displayed in him whether or not he is healed.

I have much to learn from Wesley, indeed.

I would be lying if I said the future doesn't scare or worry me. As I pray for Wesley, I pray that God would grant me the faith to become less worried and more confident that He will provide for us no matter what. So many people suffer diseases much greater than the one my husband must bear. When the effects of the sin and our fall from glory are apparent in our bodies, it is sobering. In those moments, confidence in the character of God can truly be our only hope.

O Israel, put your hope in the LORD,
for with the LORD is unfailing love
and with Him is full redemption.
[Psalm 130:7]

If not sooner, I look forward to the day when when Wesley's eyes--his whole body!--will be renewed and restored... on that day his vision will rest on the One who created him. What a perfect moment that will be--and well worth waiting for!