About a month ago, I was attempting to make a film holder so that I could scan some film negatives into the computer. As I tried to cut out a stubborn piece of plastic with a paper cutter, I took off my glasses and moved my head until it was only a few centimetres away from the piece of plastic, to get a closer look at what I was doing. Suddenly, there was a loud snap and I felt a sharp pain in my right eye.

Due to the great force I had been using to cut the plastic, the blade of the paper cutter had snapped off and hit me in the eye, before bouncing off and landing on the table. As I looked at the broken piece of sharp metal lying there, the vision in my right eye began to blur and tears started to flow from it. I asked my wife to take a look, and she indicated that there did not seem to be any sign of a penetrating eye injury. My eye must have been hit with the flat part of the blade. My legs turned to jelly as I began to realize what might have happened if the sharp edge of the blade had hit my eye instead. Instant blindness. I thanked God for His mercy and grace, because I recognized immediately what this was all about.

You see, over the last two years I had become obsessed about photography – thinking about it constantly, reading about it, talking about it and spending my His money on it. I made sure I always carried at least a small camera around with me, and was often happy to lug around a huge bag full of photo gear, just in case a photo-opportunity showed up – "But darling… what if an aeroplane crashes into a building as I drive by?". The time and energy I spent on photography began to crowd out other parts of my life, including spiritual duties such as prayer and Bible reading. Even my obligations as editor of this newsletter suffered as a result.

Photography can be a very egoistic pursuit, especially if you spend any time around a photographic community, like I do. The hunger for the approval and applause of fellow photographers can be intense, and drive you to great lengths to get "the shot" which will impress everyone. And, as I once confessed to my care group, the need to impress others has always been one of my very great weaknesses, stemming from pride, the original sin. Even as I was writing the article in the last issue about dying to self, I became painfully aware that the self-gratification I gained from photography was something which I had to die to, even if it meant giving up photography. Unfortunately, there is usually a gap between theory and practice, and God had to provide the impetus needed for me to bridge that gap. And so He poked me in the eye.

That night, as I repented and mulled over it, I thought it very appropriate that I had been involved in a photography-related activity when it happened, and that the injury involved my right eye, which I use to look through the camera’s viewfinder. God was gently telling me that if I lost my vision, all my photographic equipment and knowledge would be of no use to me. I would not be able to take photographs, or appreciate them. But if that was what it would take to get my attention back onto Him, then that was what He was prepared to do, because He loved me so much.

The words in Matt 5:29 came to me vividly: "If your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out and throw it away; it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell."

I had rationalized to myself some time ago that all the time I spent on this "hobby" was not wasted, because I could use my photographic know-how for His glory, taking pictures for the newsletter and the church archives. Like Martha, I had forgotten that only one thing was really needful – to sit at His feet and love Him. I had neglected the first commandment: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength." – Mark 12:30. My heart, soul, mind and strength had been given to photography instead, robbing God of His rightful due.

I had not been able to see my obsession for what it was, but instead, like the Pharisee in the temple, had even been condescending towards others – "Thank you, Lord, that I am not like that poor golfer over there". I could see the speck in another person’s eye, but not the log in my own. Well, I could hardly ignore the discomfort in my eye that night.

We are indeed fearfully and wonderfully made. My cornea began to heal itself almost immediately, and within a week, my vision had returned to 99% of its normal state. There is a residual visual defect, a barely noticeable notch in the image when looking at pinpoint sources of light. I believe it will always be there, as a constant reminder of this valuable lesson He has taught me. What wonderful grace!

Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that photography is evil (or golf, or TV, or music, or the million and one things that people distract and obsess themselves with). It is only when any of these things take us away from our duty to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength, that they become sin to us. As Paul said, "All things are lawful for me, but not all things are helpful; all things are lawful for me, but not all things edify." – 1 Cor 10:23

When God allows "bad" things to happen to us, there are two ways we can react to them. Like Madame Guyon, we can welcome them as "canings" by a loving Father, to correct us when we go astray, and to draw us closer to Him – "For whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourges every son whom He receiveth." – Hebrews 12:6. Or we can resent God for it, and wonder secretly in our hearts which sin God is punishing us for.

I hasten to make a distinction between punishment and discipline. We will never be punished for our sins, because Jesus Christ has borne ALL of our punishment with His death on the cross. We would never be able to bear the punishment for the smallest of our sins. But God, in love, may discipline us by causing us pain – in order that we turn to Him, and away from ourselves and our self-seeking ways. Often it is the only way we can be freed from the iron grip of our own selfishness.

At the risk of making it sound like a 12-step addiction recovery programme, I am slowly beginning to put photography into its proper perspective. I can leave home now without a camera, and not feel naked. I can enjoy a beautiful sunset, and worship Him instead of reaching for a camera to take a picture of it. I can take pleasure in looking at pictures of my children, without worrying about how well they were taken.

Friend, if there is anything taking you away from your duty to love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, don’t learn things the hard way, like I did. Turn back to Him as soon as you can. Do it today (Heb 3:7-15).