This story is about one of those times when our fears get in the way of our faith. Where something happens that shakes us to our core and we lose focus, thinking that God has somehow abandoned us. As always, though, God is faithful and shows us, sometimes quite literally, how blind we have been.

The sun and moon aligned. The sky went dark and cheers were heard all around. The solar eclipse was a time of great excitement and a life-changing event for many. My excitement quickly shifted to fear and days of suffering. When I put down my eclipse viewer to view totality, my husband questioned my action. In an instant, I doubted what I had read and believed was safe. Did I make a decision that would steal my sight?

So we are always courageous, although we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight (2 Cor 5: 6-7).

The fear of blindness and the anxiety of becoming a burden to others was crippling. Within minutes, my spouse needed to leave for a business trip. Four of my six children were out of the house during that week. I was practically alone—alone with my thoughts of “What have I done” and “To whom can I turn?”

I took out my contacts and dug out a new pair of glasses that sat in a box from a month back. My eyes hurt and the ground was distorted. I panicked even more. My heart and my thoughts raced out of control. Who would care for me when I was blind? What would perpetual darkness do to the me I’ve always known? How would I do all the things I believed made me useful? I’m the caregiver. I’m the doer of all the things. I was in an existential crisis.

For twenty six years I have cared for my spouse and our children. We all know the varied hats moms wear. Cooking, cleaning, chauffeuring, party planning, shopping, and helping with homework filled my days. I found my meaning in serving my family. I felt valued and important because I was of service to my family. The thought of being unable to do many of those things caused me to question my purpose. Would I still be able to be a “good mother”? Do I have intrinsic human value outside of my service to others?

As I retreated to my room to rest and calm my anxiety I knew better than to Google anything about my fears. What recourse did I have anyhow? I was in the midst of suffering. What do I do now? By grace I found a “Powerful Prayer for Difficult Times” on YouTube. A novena to Mary Undoer of Knots began on a 24/7 loop.

I didn’t want to close my eyes and sleep, because I was afraid to be lost in the darkness. If fatigue set in and I drifted off, I’d wake with a startle and panic until I saw light. Exhaustion took over, which made the anxiety worse. The anxiety was so overwhelming that I could not speak to others about my fears. I could not bring myself to say the words or ask for help. I felt isolated and alone. Only the words of the novena brought me comfort. I needed to take Mother Mary’s example.

Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38).

I ended up in a doctor’s office and discovered I was seriously deficient in various vitamins and minerals. In all my caregiving to others, I had failed to properly care for myself. I had to hit rock bottom to see what I was doing to myself. Changes were made to take better care of the body God gave me. I discovered the new pair of glasses were not actually my prescription. It was all a perfect storm as the stars aligned to bring changes to my life. Or rather, the Lord brought good out of all things.

With the novena on repeat, trust in God’s holy will, acceptance of suffering, compassion for others who suffer, and hope in eternal salvation through Christ were all increased. On day two of the novena we hear, “You received without pay, give without pay.” What I believed to be a burden in my life turned into a path to better physical health and spiritual growth.

“He was born blind so that the works of God might be revealed in him” (Jn 9:3).