The Blind Woman Who Saw Everything

When Fanny Crosby was just six weeks old, a doctor's mistake left her permanently blind. She would never see a sunrise, a loved one's face, or the words she put to paper. Yet this woman composed over eight thousand hymns, including Blessed Assurance, To God Be the Glory, and Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior.

What strikes me most isn't her extraordinary output — it's what she said about her blindness. When someone expressed sympathy for her condition, Crosby replied, "If I had a choice, I would still choose to remain blind, for when I die, the first face I will ever see will be the face of Jesus."

That is trust in its purest form. Not trust that everything will work out the way we planned. Not trust that removes the hardship. But trust that reframes the hardship entirely — turning what the world calls a tragedy into what faith calls an appointment with the Almighty.

Fanny Crosby didn't write Blessed Assurance despite her blindness. She wrote it because of the kind of seeing that blindness taught her — an inward sight fixed on the faithfulness of God.

Some of you are walking through a season where you cannot see what's ahead. The diagnosis is unclear. The finances don't add up. The future feels dark. But trust doesn't require sight. It requires a Savior worth singing to in the dark.

As Crosby herself wrote: "This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long."