God blessed my husband Ian and me with the gift of our son William in 1985. There had been complications during my pregnancy which had been further exacerbated by the fact that I am a type 1 diabetic. These complications included the onset of odema toxaemia and bells palsy. My understanding is that both conditions can be harmful if left untreated but because of my religious beliefs I was willing to sacrifice my life in order to save my baby. The medical staff knew this and thus delivered William as soon as they considered his chances of survival were at their best, even though I was seriously ill and he was born by Caesarean Section at 35 weeks.

One day, I noticed as I stood caressing William in my arms that he appeared very unwell. I panicked and in that moment of panic I lost faith in God. I remember calling out to God in sheer desperation, a desperation which came deep within the core of my stomach and I said “God do what you will to me, but don’t take my son”. A few days later my eyes haemorrhaged and since that day I have not been able to see my son, or my husband Ian again. I have never felt the need to blame God for the loss of my sight, however, nor did I feel any anger, bitterness or resentment towards God. For in truth, at a time when I should have trusted God, I lost faith. I lost faith because I was afraid and my fear resulted in panic. Had I appreciated then what I have come to realise now, I should have known that my loss of sight was part of God’s plan for me and his restoration of the light of Jesus Christ into my life. It was his way of returning me to the flock, because I had lapsed from my Catholicism. He would also teach me through my experiences that the most important possessions in life are people.

In March 1986 I was referred to Moorfields Eye Hospital where I was informed that unless I underwent surgery to both my eyes I should go blind. Several operations were performed in an attempt to save my sight, but in December that year I was registered blind and disabled. This was a turning point in my life and I suppose the beginning of new experiences and adventures.

Being blind I didn’t have to live in a world of darkness

One day, as I sat reflecting on what had happened to me I could hear my children, Elizabeth and William, giggling and laughing at the silly games they were playing. Their contentment made me smile. It also made me listen. I realised in that brief moment that being blind didn’t mean to say that I had to live in a world of darkness, but that I could enjoy and savour every minute of it by using my other senses to make up for what I lacked in sight. And this is how I believe that God reached out to me.

And so, a new learning curve began. Not just for me, but for Ian and the children too. So, I suppose it could be argued that I was reborn into a new life. Ian and the children allowed me to see the beauty and splendour of God’s creation through their eyes. They would describe the colour of the sea and sky to me, outlining every conceivable detail.

Describe the trees to me

I began to ask Ian to describe the trees to me when we used to take the children to the park to gather conkers. What colour the leaves were and whether any of the trees still had their leaves on them. If Ian found a sycamore seed he would throw it in the air and ask me if I remembered playing helicopters. We’d laugh at the silliness of our childish behaviour and our joy rubbed off onto our children. On trips to the seaside Ian and the children would gather shells and the children too would describe their shapes, sizes and colour to me. When we went home I’d wash the shells for them and coat them with clear nail varnish to bring out their pretty colours.

Visits to portrait galleries or museums would not only tire the children, but me also, because of all the information I had to absorb into my memory. If selecting a piece of furniture for the home, Ian would take my hand and allow me to run my fingers over its contour whilst he described its colours to me. When on holiday if we visited any botanical gardens he would help me to smell the flowers and this taught me to breathe in the scents and smells which surrounded me each day.

It didn’t stop there either. During this time I learned to read Braille, so that I could communicate with other visually impaired people. People, who unlike me, may not have been able to see since birth and could only communicate with each other in this way. I learned to play the clarinet and read a degree with the Open University, achieving two life long ambitions. I have also been promoted several times in my job. More recently, I have decided to learn to play the saxophone and to write a book about my experiences as a blind woman, and in particular my relationship with God.

God is always there

My life hasn’t always been rosy. Sometimes it has been absolutely dire and I wondered where God was when everything appeared to be going wrong. But I realised that God is present in the sun’s rays which shine down on my face. He is present whether the sea is beautifully calm and serene, or black, turbulent and stormy and crashing against the rocks. He is there when the birds sing; He is present in our livestock who provide us with sources of nourishment and which help us to sustain our bodies. He’s also present in our spouses and children - the people who provide us with the most support when things go wrong.

God is present in the good doctors and nurses who are learned, kind and compassionate and who strive to save our lives at all costs. He has given these people and many others like them the ability to look after us when we are sick. He is present in our priests who dedicate and devote their lives to teaching us his ways. He is present amongst the homeless and helps me understand how they might feel so I can do more to help make their lives better. God is everywhere and within everyone. Look around and you can see and believe it. This is my belief and how I have learnt to see again!