The Woman Who Saw More Than Most

When Fanny Crosby was six weeks old, a country doctor's mistake left her permanently blind. She never saw a sunrise, never read a printed page, never glimpsed the face of a friend. By every measure of her era, her life was over before it began.

Instead, she wrote hymns. Over eight thousand of them. Blessed Assurance. To God Be the Glory. Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior. For nearly a century — she lived to be ninety-four — Fanny Crosby poured out songs that churches around the world still sing today, more than a hundred and fifty years later.

Publishers sometimes asked her to use pseudonyms because they didn't want congregations to know how many hymns in their hymnals came from one woman. She didn't mind. She kept writing.

When asked about her blindness, she once said, "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 my blessed Savior."

That is perseverance shaped by faith. Not grim endurance. Not teeth-gritting survival. But a settled confidence that the God who walks with us through darkness is preparing something beyond what any eye has seen.

Whatever has been taken from you, whatever limitation presses against your calling, the Almighty is not finished with your song. Keep singing. The best verse may be the one you haven't written yet.