It is 2:00 in the morning.

The house is quiet except for the soft sound of my wife crying beside me.

She cannot sleep because her eyes hurt so badly.

Over the past weeks we have tried so many things. Systane. Refresh. TheraTears. Refresh PM ointment. Every new product brings a little hope, but by another night we find ourselves back here again.

Last Friday the eye doctor examined her and said she is producing tears. During the exam, numbing drops were placed in her eyes, and for about twenty-four hours she experienced relief. It was the first time in a long while that she could simply rest without constant pain.

Then the pain returned.

The doctor prescribed Restasis, but she is afraid to use it. She has read stories from people who describe burning eyes when they first start the drops, and when you are already living with constant pain, the thought of making it worse is terrifying.

What hurts me most is not that I cannot fix it. It is watching someone I love begin to lose hope.

This is about much more than dry eyes.

Months of interrupted sleep have left her exhausted. Chronic pain wears on the mind as well as the body. Every difficult night makes tomorrow a little harder to face. When people hear the words “dry eyes,” they often imagine a minor irritation. They do not see the tears at two in the morning. They do not see the fear, the exhaustion, or the discouragement that comes from wondering whether relief will ever come.

As her husband, I wish I could take the pain myself.

I cannot.

What I can do is stay beside her, pray with her, encourage her when she cannot encourage herself, and keep believing that this chapter is not the end of her story.

For anyone reading this who is walking through chronic pain—whether from dry eye disease or another condition—you are not alone. Sometimes the greatest act of faith is simply making it through one more night.

We are still believing that healing is possible. We are still trusting God when the answers are slow. And we are holding on to hope, even when hope feels very small.

Heavenly Father,

Tonight I bring Leisa before You.

You see every tear she cries, every hour she lies awake, and every moment of pain that no one else can fully understand. Nothing about her suffering is hidden from You.

Lord, please bring relief to her eyes. Calm the pain, restore the health of her tears and the surface of her eyes, and grant her the gift of peaceful sleep. Give wisdom to her doctors and guide every decision about her treatment.

When fear overwhelms her, replace it with Your peace. When she feels there is no hope, remind her that You are still near. Carry her through the nights that seem so long.

Help me to love her well. Give me patience, strength, compassion, and the right words when I have none. Help me be a faithful husband who reflects Your love, especially when I cannot solve the problem.

We remember that Jesus healed the sick, comforted the weary, and invited those who are burdened to come to Him. We ask for that same mercy today.

We place this pain, this fear, these sleepless nights, and our future into Your hands. We trust that You are with us, even in the darkness before morning.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.