As I read through the previous post from 8 years ago, it is hard to truly describe the thoughts and emotions going through my mind. This year is the 50th anniversary of the COS. It also happens to be the 50th anniversary of my clinic, McDonald Eye Associates. For me, this is already a year full of looking back on the past and considering what the future holds.

I’ve been pondering how the founders of both my own practice and the COS laid the groundwork for both organizations to be excellent in what they do. Seeing what I wrote about prayer 8 years ago, I hope that my prayers back then helped lay a foundation for my own growth in serving the Lord as an ophthalmologist.

My life looks very different than it did back then. My oldest son was 4 years old. He and his brother are in the next room as I write this, working on schoolwork—except now he’s as tall as my wife. We’ve been blessed with another biological daughter, as well as having four foster children come through our home in the time since my last writing, one of whom is now an adult living on her own, but remains a permanent part of our family.

We lived through a worldwide pandemic that affected every part of the planet. Trials have come and gone. There have been days of pure joy and days of overwhelming grief. I have performed many thousands of more surgeries since then – some of which include products or devices that did not exist when I wrote the previous article.  I’ll probably use a large language model–based “AI” chatbot to proofread this after I write it—and that would have sounded like pure science fiction when I wrote the last post.

My life has changed so much.
The world has changed so much.

Only one thing has not changed—our God.

“Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.” (Isaiah 40:28)

Throughout these years, He has remained my faithful Savior, even on the days when I have forgotten to pray—when I, the changing man that I am, have failed to seek His intercession when I should have. He has still been faithful to me.

I am incredibly blessed to be allowed to serve Christ, my Savior, over these years. Now I often pray that I have done it well. I thank the Lord for the times when it has been so obvious to me that “The LORD is my strength and my song” (Exodus 15:2), as I wrote in the last post.

God has granted me years of practice to become a more seasoned surgeon, but even with the experience I now have, I know that “It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man” (Psalm 118:8)—even when that “man” is ourselves. I find that I am now more able to pray, not just that my patient will do well in recovery, but even more so that God would receive the glory for any thanks or praise.

So, to the young attendings who read this today: know that your practice will change as you progress. You’ll learn to respect the zonules, but you won’t hold the same fear of them. When a bag breaks, you’ll handle it with far less trepidation and trembling than you do now—and you’ll be much more confident that you’re avoiding those breaks in the first place.

You’ll see the uveitis patient whom you diagnose with one of the rare but treatable conditions on the differential, and you’ll remember that patient’s gratitude for the rest of your life. You’ll learn from your successes and your failures. And, as long as you continue to practice medicine, there will still be moments of fear related to the weight of the responsibility we carry.

Hopefully, you’ll remember how the Lord brought you through the trials of your first years as an attending to where you are today, as well as recognize how He continues to guide you.

In essence, what I’m saying is this:

You will grow.
You will change.

But God will not.

He is everlasting to everlasting. He is your ever-present help in trouble. He is not nervous about your future, because He knows the plans He has for you. He is your rock, your fortress, your shield, and your high tower. He is good, and His steadfast love endures forever. He is the Great Physician and cares for your patients in ways we can only partially understand.

It is surreal to think back 50 years to a time before I was born, and forward 50 years to a time when, more likely than not, I will be gone from this earth. This “older attending version of myself” can’t claim to be perfectly reliant on God as his strength. He is not free from fear.

But his God does not fear.

I knew God was good and faithful 8 years ago. I know it now in a deeper way than I did then. And I suspect 8 years from now, I will know it even more deeply. Whether 50, 500, or 5,000 years in the past or the future, nothing changes the love our God has for His people.