Category Archives: Books and Movies

October 8, 2013 · 11:59 pm

Driving: Take Two

Yesterday started out like any other typical “It is an important day today!” —

tumblr_lm5yg6o9vh1qjt7foo1_500 www.tumblr.com

Let’s just throw out the fact that it was a Monday.

Yep, the day in which I was to complete part two of my driving evaluation tests could not have started out with any better of the typical important day fashion: sleeping past my alarm and Mom waking me up fifteen minutes before we had to leave. Her ever-calm assurance in these situations met my panic mode as I stumbled out of bed and started going through my morning list of important things I had to do (let alone getting somewhat presentable for the day): feed Muffy, take medicines, etc. “And I need coffee.” Mom said she would make sure Muffy is fed and start some coffee.

Only a few minutes past when we had to leave–with fresh coffee and an apple for breakfast–I get in the car and feel like I can finally catch my breath and looked forward to getting the test over and done! It amazes me that something like this can consume your mind. I do not have a problem with my driving–and yet when doctors first ordered the evaluation back in August, all of a sudden the restriction caused me to doubt my driving–so much that I was having dreams of being in accidents. After the first evaluation September 19th (even though I passed), I still had restrictions until I took this second part. I was able to practice in empty parking lots, which boosted confidence, but it is not a main road.

Feeling confident, I sign in and a few minutes later head out the door with the PT to the Student Driver car. I have only driven one of these official cars once for Driver’s Ed class…that was ten years ago. My instructor (who was also my history/government teacher) must have trusted his students as for our actual driving license test, we could choose between the Student Driver car or one that we had that we were more comfortable driving. I chose the latter of the two options…nothing compares to our family’s 1987 Honda Accord. It is like an heirloom. It witnessed at least thirteen years of high school drama from the parking lot between me and my sisters. Pretty classy!

Anyway, I would have felt more comfortable in my own car (logically), but since it was not a possibility in this situation, I tried my best to adjust to the Student Driver car even though there were many things very different from my car. I found my biggest frustrations being their steering wheel having these huge box-like attachments right above the “9” and “3” area..which is usually where I place my hands. (Note that this test was caused by the concern of my hand function in the first place, so the scenario didn’t suit well.) I also had a problem with the side view mirrors not having the small blind-view mirrors. (Those have saved me from numerous episodes of changing lane woes and proved so when I was doing some reverse exercises with cones in the parking lot.)

We finally get to driving around in a very pretty residential area–being fully determined not to mess with my chances of the evaluation, I kept my focus. Once we determined that the motion for “keep going straight” involved two hands (better clarification), I meandered, slowly, through the neighborhood. When we finished and headed back, the PT asked me how I felt about the driving and I told her my honest opinion (seeing no problems). Never assume a professional PT sees your driving the same way. As we met to discuss the results with my Mom, the PT explains her two things that she sees as a concern (which I do not see in context of the driving experience how they fit in properly to what I thought was the main concern : the grip and strength of my hands!) As soon as I figure out that I still do not have the official okay to drive and that I must return one more time, I bluntly express my point of view in one short sentence. I set up my next drive for the 21st and cry in the elevator–expressing my frustrations to my Mom. There are some things I just do not understand and what they want to see in these evaluations from me is what I do not understand.

There was good in the morning though…I can drive normally in my car as long as one of my parents is with me. Talk about feeling like being back in high school, but I am very thankful for this outcome (even if it is still an inconvenience to our schedules.) By driving  the roads, I can now get back to feeling like a normal driver and hope I spend less time dreaming doubts and trusting that God can use this time to help me gain more confidence as yesterday was my first time “on the road” since August.

But yesterday I also felt my conscience tug at my heart over my attitude at the PT right before we left. I did not mean to bluntly express my opinion, but it came out. And I feel bad for it; I hope I did not ruin her day. I am sure it was just as awkward and maybe frustrating for her to navigate a deaf person around a neighborhood and through cones in a parking lot. In my childish actions in response to the PT’s professional opinion, I see how wrong I was and asked God to forgive me.  Taking my driving evaluation as a lesson: These are events that I  cannot go back and change, but instead, learn from it and set out focusing on doing better next time.

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” ~Ephesians 4:29

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September 19, 2013 · 11:59 pm

High Blood Pressure

I have never struggled with high blood pressure before. In fact, I don’t even understand how it reads. It is like a fraction, but every time is different…I don’t even know what a normal range is supposed to be. The arm gets squeezed: the pressure put on tighter, tighter, tighter…then in a few seconds, everything releases back to normal. The nurse says my number out loud. “Is that good?” It’s all I can ask, utterly clueless. Usually I get a nod of approval, but today I got a shocking remark from my Occupational Therapist, “Wow! Your numbers are high!” After a few more “just in case” squeezes, it was decided that I get rechecked after my test.

This was no ordinary test–it was a driver’s evaluation test. At my last doctors appointment on August 27th, there was concern by one team of doctors about the way I was walking. Due to the concern and just the wholeness of my body, they had me stop driving until I had this driver’s evaluation. I have had one before after my first DVT, but this time I agreed to the test rather than the last time where I felt forced. However, when I got home, my brain starts thinking. Like LeFou tells Gaston in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, “A dangerous pastime…” to which Gaston replies, “I know.”

I get to thinking how unfair this predicament is…even though I understand the concern presented as there is a concern for other people’s safety in my driving…not just me, I deem it unfair and I let my thoughts turn angry. Yes, I admit it. I was angry. I felt singled out. And after today, I just don’t understand.

Last night I let part of the pressure go. My parents just listened as I cried, talking with my mouth full of food how about it all…the unfairness, the thoughts I still battle in self-esteem, and I even said, “My handwriting is like a five-year old.” (Of course I probably looked like one the way I was eating). I bring up Denver days: “They were my glory days.” Perhaps that has been part of this week’s inner battle–I am trying to relive my past when I felt free.

Maybe that is why I love driving. I am in control. Sweet sixteen and you are on top of the world as you feel ultimate freedom. How is it that driving can have this big of an effect on one’s life? Freedom: To be told otherwise is like being grounded. And that is how I left my driver’s evaluation, except I had done nothing wrong. In fact, I passed everything. There was just concern about the numbness in my hands, but I still do not see why it causes me to have to still not drive until I take an actual test in a car on October 7th.

But life is not about the fullness of understanding–it is about the fullness of faith. It is not about the comfort in freedom or the glory days of the past–it is about enduring in hardships and pressing on towards the goal. Life is not about control–but complete surrender. And I am only beginning to grasp what these mean in my own life..in what I deem unfair, what I cannot control.

And so I pray for sweet surrender, because only then will this body find peace.

When [Jesus] calmed people’s situations, it wasn’t simply an end to their painful circumstances; he didn’t just help them out of their problems. He made them whole again. These people who Jesus impacted experienced a fullness they had never begun to imagine possible. That’s what the peace of Jesus is about–filling up the taker and making them whole.

*Matthew Paul Turner. Beatitude: Relearning Jesus through truth,contradiction, and a folded dollar bill. Grand Rapids, MI: (Revell, 2006. pg. 34)

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September 10, 2013 · 11:33 pm

Like Plain English

I have never been a Shakespeare fanatic. Mostly because I never understood the language of his plays. In high school, I read and watched a few plays (movies) in English class and did the homework discussion questions but always seemed to grasp the scenes differently than others in the class.

“So what is going on in this scene here?” Or, “What does this character mean when he says this?” I would sit and hope that I would not be chosen. I didn’t want anyone to think that I was not understanding.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have this problem all the time–only when discussing Shakespeare or poetry (like his Sonnets.) I love books, English class, creative writing and diagramming sentences. However, if I made a list of my favorite classic authors of all time, Shakespeare would not be in the top five. But I have discovered something that is helping me appreciate the works of Shakespeare. It is called, “plain English language.”

Barnes and Nobles could just very well be what I consider a great hangout place. It is almost like a huge library where you have freedom to chat and walk around with your coffee. I often go in to the local store just to look around at the bargain books, read a few children books and see what is newly released. In this meandering a few months ago, I headed towards the playwright section. Mom and I had watched James Stewart’s old film, Harvey, and I knew it was based on the play of the same name by Mary Chase. I wanted to see if there was a copy of the original play. There wasn’t, but I found the play Our Town, by Thorton Wilder, and skimmed through the text remembering seeing the play in the Creede Repertory Theatre and crying during the final scene. Excellent play.

What fascinated me the most in this section was the amount of Shakespeare plays available. I think all (even his Sonnets) were on the shelf. I didn’t bother to skim through them, but picked up this instead:

9781411401006_p0_v1_s260x420 www.bn.com

It is genius! This morning I sat at Beans-n-Cream sipping my Pumpkin & Spice coffee and found that I was not only enjoying the play, but understanding the play. Shakespeare is on the left page–plain English translation is on the right page. Maybe this is considered a “cheat sheet,” but in my opinion…if it allows me to understand the text of someone who is considered to be one of the greatest writers in the English language, then it is worth the modern translation.

My everyday conversations can parallel much to that of a Shakespeare play. As much as I do my best to lip read, words and phrases constantly get mixed up; I miss context or transition clues to next conversation; and I sometimes just say, “I have idea what you’re talking about.” Lately, if it really important– after attempting fingerspelling, but obvious that I still am missing one or two words–my parents will write it down. Like plain English and I understand.

When it comes to translation in communication, I think I use a lot of different methods: sign language interpreters, text messages, closed captions on television or movies, and a Captel service when talking on the telephone. After my hearing dropped and I returned the Phonak Cros, I decided a better investment would be a Cap Tel landline phone. Up until this point, I have been using an internet caption service through Sprint. It was free and accessibly convenient in college. But it is getting more inconvenient: To make a phone call, I would have to start my computer, get on the site, log in, put my number in and then the person’s number who is receiving the call, press enter, wait for Sprint Cap Tel to call me, press send and finally be set up for the conversation.

It is not like a TTY or landline phone where captions are fast, accurate and promising not to cut out of a conversation. (Believe me, many times during chats with credit card companies gets frustrating as you never get the same representative.) I will say that I found humor though…because the captions are based on voice recognition, there were many laughable “read between the line” moments. I can relate–happens to me in real life daily.

But these woes are no longer my concern. I am now the owner of a Cap Tel captioned phone!!!

MI_6356www.adcohearing.com

It works fantastic and I finally understand the whole phone conversation! It provides accuracy and convenience (especially safety for emergency phone calls). On the bottom of the screen there are little boxes…the left is mine and the right is the person I am calling. When talking, the box flashes, so I know when to listen and when they are done speaking. My box flashes too, and st often in red, which means I am talking too loud. Ironic, since most of the time people say I talk too quiet. This phone allows me to receive calls, make my own appointments, and best of all-talk to my grandparents (as well as other family and friends.) Out of all the new accommodations made recently and still to come–this is placed in the top five favorites, perhaps even as number one.

Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply. ~Stephen R. Covey

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September 8, 2013 · 11:48 pm

Leaving room for “God Room”

In the Gospel of Mark, chapter 2, Jesus is continuing his ministry of teaching the people and performing miracles. At Capernaum, Jesus was at a house where the crowds of people came in at so much abundance that there was no room to get into the house, let alone by the door.

There were four friends who had a lame friend. Because they could not get through the main entrance, these four friends carried the lame friend to the roof, made a hole in the roof, and lowered their friend right to the feet of Jesus. Seeing their faith, Jesus healed this man both spiritually and physically:

Which is easier to say to the sick man, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your bed, and start to walk?’ I am doing this so you may know the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins.” He said to the sick man who could not move his body, “I say to you, ‘Get up. Take your bed and go to your home.’” At once the sick man got up and took his bed and went away.

Mark 2:9-12a, NLT

Today, childhood friends from my hometown, sister and brother-in-law, and friends from college days walked the Children’s Tumor Foundation NF Walk in Denver, Colorado. Their walking as a team and raising support on my behalf for the foundation and its future research made me think of the four friends of the lame man. They walked with the same hope as any persons living with a disease: that someday there will be a cure. Right now there is no cure for my disease (that circumferences NF1 as well.) Sometimes these walks for diseases seem so helpless in the bigger picture of the dying world, but what matters is keeping the focus on a hopeful future found in Jesus Christ.

But it is easy for me to lose sight of hope when all I see everyday is my body aging away. I don’t even know what to pray for at times. I know God has given knowledge and wisdom to countless research teams and doctors across the world to help patients such as myself;  I am very thankful for my team of doctors and therapists and trust their guidance. But even they can only do so much. It is our human nature. It is where “God Room” comes into faith.

I just finished Franklin Graham’s autobiography, Rebel with a Cause: Finally Comfortable Being Graham. I know I am about fourteen years behind from when it was written, but I am glad I took the time to read it as it taught me a few lessons in life and faith.

In one of the chapters, Franklin accompanies his friend Bob Pierce–founder of Samaritan’s Purse–on a world tour to see first hand the work that Bob ministered through Samaritan’s Purse to the hurting, sick and needy around the world by helping assist missionaries already in the areas. During the trip, Bob tells Franklin of leaving room for “God Room.”

‘God Room’ is when you see a need and it’s bigger than your human abilities to meet it. But you accept the challenge. You trust God to bring in the finances and the materials to meet that need.

I thought about this in my own life. With starting Physical and Occupational therapy a lot of my mindset has been, “These are things I can no longer do easily on my own or at all on my own.” It gets frustrating. So last night, I prayed for “God Room.” I didn’t go through my whole list of things wrong in my body. I figured God already knows that…but what I focused on was trust–trusting that God would (will continue) to meet my needs–both physically and spiritually. My physical condition is out of the ability of myself and doctors…but not out of God’s ability. With Him all is possible…and that means the “God Room” is pretty big!

*Graham, Franklin. Rebel with a Cause: Finally Comfortable Being Graham. Nashville: (Thomas Nelson, Inc., 1999.) Page 139.

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August 29, 2013 · 11:52 pm

Living in a Fast Paced World

At Tuesday’s doctor appointments, we discussed transferring me to a neuro rehab clinic for my Physical Therapy and Occupational Therapy. This is still in the future plans, but because I currently have a driving restriction until I take a driver’s mobility test (based off the way I am currently walking, just to ensure safety on my reaction times)–it could be up to three weeks until I get the test completed even though I am on the current waiting list. Because of this, I am not able to get myself over to the rehab facilities and since I have already started with Home Health, the plan for now is to let them finish their sessions and then I go on from that point. I have been pleased with my PT sessions so far.

My first session of PT was last week and I start OT next week, which I am anticipating, because today in getting ready my hands lost grip of my makeup bag–momentary sadness to shatter a perfectly good bronzer. Anyway, while last week’s PT session was mostly talk and the “see where you’re at” balance, strength and mobility tests, this week was a full 45 minute workout. I have had PT twice already: one after my first blood clot to strengthen my left leg and the second session this past Spring to strengthen my neck and upper back muscles.

I have never experienced a singe PT session that would literally leave me so exhausted that I had to take a nap in the afternoon. To demonstrate how weak my muscles are–picture me on my knees, lifting the exercise ball over my head (repeat 4 times). By the last, my arms were beat. We also did a lot of balance exercises where I lift one knee while on the other and then rolling the exercise ball back and forth while maintaining balance. To the average person, these may seem so easy, but to a person such as myself, it was difficult. To be honest, today I felt like a toddler…learning to balance and lift things, freely falling over and struggling to get up. But the strength and retraining my mind to use the muscles does not happen over night..it is baby steps. 🙂

Of course, I overdid myself this morning after my session. I went downstairs and painted a canvas that will be on display next week at a pizza parlor in Yellow Springs. (more to come on that!) I finished but had some extra paint and don’t like to waste it, so I set out to finish a small abstract one as well. No joke, the last few seconds of “finishing touches” on the painting and the table topples over!! Thankfully, the painting was not ruined, but for the cleanup process, I was back on my knees like my PT session and struggling to get everything picked up without making a bigger mess. By the end of my painting session, I looked like a painting. 😉

I had been to Michaels a few weeks ago to pick up paints and a pack of 8×10 canvases. At the check out isle there were some extra-large reusable bags and on an impulse decision, I bought one in order to carry my paintings around when they go on display in Beans-n-Cream or anywhere else. Artistically decorated, the front says the classic line, “Stop and smell the roses.” I thought of The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf. Growing up, Ferdinand was different. While his peers were shaping up to be the best for bull fighting, Ferdinand just wants to smell flowers. Only when he sits on a bee does anyone take notice of him. At the bull arena, he is adorned with roses…everyone expects him to put in a good show, and he just wants to smell the flowers. 🙂

Too often I try to rush forward in my physical body, even though it is no longer capable of the word “hurry.” I forget to stop, breath in, smell the roses (sweetness of God’s mercy and grace) and realize that I don’t have to feel pressure to keep up with the fast paced world. God can use me just as I am…like a child.

They say that I can move the mountains
And send them crashing into the sea
They say that I can walk on water
If I would follow and believe
with faith like a child

Jars of Clay. “Like a Child.” Self-titled debut album. 1995.

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August 18, 2013 · 11:54 pm

These Hands

Today I thought of something funny: VeggieTales’ Larry Boy character has super-suction plunger ears! This thought enlightened my state of frustration as I was stalling between the entrance and outdoors of Target’s entryway trying to grasp my small Starbucks cup and walk at the same time. When I finally made it to my car I decided that I should not get a coffee less I was pushing a cart. These hands no longer grip cups the way the way they should…maybe I should look into gripping gloves.

My whole shopping list at Target consisted of two things: band aids and bathroom cups. The band aids are just for safe keeping as I seem to use them often, but the bathroom cups are a new idea I thought of the other night as I found myself rinsing my mouth after bushing but in the end biting my finger. My fingers no longer make a “cup-like” position as I found out.

My right hand is now entering a stage of numbness where my fingers are very heavy and tingle while the function is draining. I can still use my hand (my left is weak but actually now the stronger of the two hands.) My hand is just slow. Simple things such as holding a drinking cup (unless a mug), I now hold with both hands. I hold my toothbrush and chapstick a certain way between my index/middle finger as I drop them otherwise. I cannot pick things up with just my thumb and index finger, so when I drop anything on the floor, I have to use both hands in a scoop like fashion to try to recover it (while also trying to keep my balance). Zip lock bag days are nearing an end; and opening anything else in the kitchen can usually be done with these gripped circles my mom has or with a trusty pair of scissors. 🙂 I can’t get my hair ties in my hair and just an honest note, even sometimes certain things in dressing myself becomes difficult. And typing is finger poking.

These changes in my hand have happened very quickly over the past two months–it is often hard to see past the downslope of health. Next week will be the end of two months on the Sirolimus chemo treatment. My MRI is this Friday (the 23rd) and doctor check up on Tuesday (the 27th)–between the results of those scans, my current physical state and chemo–there is a lot to think and pray about. Try as I can to remain trusting in the Lord, my mind is often consumed with the “what if” of the unknown future that it consumes me. This happened last week, but it was also largely guilt I placed on myself for getting my chemo doses wrong with the new syringes.

In a conversation with my sister, she mentioned that because I have changed so much physically over the past few months, the mental/emotional part of my body is trying to catch up to speed, resulting in the way I have been over the past few weeks: emotional, distant and when not thinking of health, consuming my thoughts with things like teas, books or movies. I am not content…I have been in need. So when my sister mentioned this equation imbalance, I saw the truth in it. Up until this year, all the side effects in my physical body have been slow progressive. This enabled me to adjust to the changes at a steady pace…whereas these past few months it has seemed to be my whole body and I cannot keep the same pace.

I think often: “How am I going to continue to live like this?” But then I remember that I DO live…and God will be at my right hand until the end (Psalm 121:5).

Madam, when you [come] to the other side of the water, and have set down your foot on the shore of glorious eternity, and look back again to the waters and to your wearisome journey, and shall see in that clear glass of endless glory nearer to the bottom of God’s wisdom, you shall then be forced to say, ‘If God had done otherwise with me than he hath done, I had never come to enjoy of this crown of glory’. It is your part now to believe, and suffer, and hope, and wait on[.]

Samuel Rutherford*

*”4/to Marion M’Naught.” Letters of Samuel Rutherford: A Selection. Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2012. pg. 18.

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August 14, 2013 · 9:09 pm

A cup of tea

Mr. Tumnus: “Daughter of Eve from the far land of Spare Oom where eternal summer reigns around the bright city of War Drobe, how would it be if you came and had tea with me?”

“Thank you very much, Mr. Tumnus,” said Lucy. “But I was wondering whether I ought to be getting back.”

“It’s only just around the corner,” said the Faun, “and there’ll be a roaring fire–and toast–and sardines–and cake.”

C. S. Lewis. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Great Britain: (Geoffrey Bles, 1950.) pg. 116.

I think Mr. Tumnus was on to something: tea is best when shared with a friend (or a way to make new friends); tea is always better served like a tea party (although I question his choice of sardine refreshments); and tea no matter what time of the year it is…is tea, and can be fully enjoyed whether on a sunny day or in the winter chill by a roaring fire. (In my opinion, rainy days make great tea days.)

The concept of tea started for me at an early age. We sisters would sometimes have tea parties. My older sister had a tea set and Mom would serve tea (apple juice) with refreshments (usually graham crackers.) Tea time was serious excitement.

tea0001

Melissa and I

tea0002 Megan

After the apple juice excitement faded, tea was non-existent in my youth–although I applaud my Mom’s efforts in having us try herbal tea. “Add some honey.” Even honey was not sufficient. I never touched tea again until college. Then everything changed. Tea is now a hobby.

Socially, I don’t throw tea parties but I have thought about it a few times. Back at my birthday, being in the south where the best tea resides, my parents gave me a book on tea party history and etiquette. It is fascinating. Books and tea, what could be better?

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DSC05815

You don’t necessarily need a tea party to share with friends. Over the past few weeks, I have been given in gracious amounts–tea–resulting in the enjoyment of a few cups during the day. I have been given teas that I have never tried or even heard of in flavor. Once again, excitement resides!–because as far as tea goes, I usually stick with flavors I know or ones that help my stomach (such as peppermint or Bigelow’s Lemon Ginger Plus). But now that new flavors are being given to me as gifts to try, my knowledge of tea choices is expanding and in turn I share the new favorites with my family or other friends.

In order to give, we must also receive.

In life, we have been given a divine invitation…more than just a tea party, the invitation is for eternity, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” ~John 3:16.

The gift has been freely given–freely receive.

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August 7, 2013 · 12:03 pm

Unshakable

The other night at dinner, we were discussing old movies. Old–as in black and white…as in Charlie Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy and the like. We grew up watching many of these kind…either that or classic reruns of black and white television shows, such as The Lone Ranger, Petticoat Junction, The Dick van Dyke Show, I Love Lucy, The Beverly Hillbillies or The Andy Griffith Show. If I ever need a hearty laugh, these are bound for success!

Don Knotts, who plays Barney Fife on The Andy Griffith Show, also starred in many funny movies: The Ghost and Mr. Chicken, The Reluctant Astronaut and The Shakiest Gun in the West are personal favorites. In the 1968 film, The Shakiest Gun in the West, we find Jesse W. Haywood (Knotts) fresh out of a dentist school in Philadelphia and now pursuing the West to open an office and provide his services there. One hilarious event after another, Haywood’s vulnerability places him right in the middle of a secret government case in which he has been lured into by the stagecoach robber, Penelope “Bad Penny” Cushing, who has been offered a pardon if she helps solve the case.

Haywood at the beginning of the movie is not what you would label a western man. Everything changes for him when the other wagon men see–what they perceive–as Haywood fighting off a group of Native Americans. Suddenly he is a hero. From that point on, his pride is fueled, enough even to accept a challenge from the famous and feared Arnold the Kid. It is only after this that he discovers the truth about his fighting abilities–it is not him, but has been Penny the entire time. Crushed, he returns to the plain old Jesse W. Haywood…a nobody in his eyes. I don’t want to spoil anymore of the movie, but I will say that in the end, we see that Haywood learns confidence. He has experienced the West and longed to be something big–but in the end, it is not his pride or fighting skills that earn him his recognition but simply by being himself and what he does best: being a dentist.

When my sister was here in July, we watched this movie. 🙂 I have thought of it a few times lately more because it gives me a few good laughs when I get frustrated with my hands. As you may recall, my hands are weakening–curled fingers due to muscle loss in the left hand and extreme numbness in the right hand which results in lack of grip and sensation. It is not entirely noticeable but my hands also shake. Not violently but just a steady jitter.

When it first started, I did not think much of it, figuring it was just a phase or I was tired that day or anything else excuse-wise that came to mind. When changes happen in my body, I allow myself a certain period of time to test and take note if it is indeed a change or just a spontaneous reaction of tumors with the nerves. Sometimes things happen only once, never occurring again. Unless it is crucial–like my notice of hearing loss–I don’t mention anything to my parents or doctors until it becomes a relevant occurrence.

One night, my sister came home and as we were talking she just broke in midsentence and asked, “Are you feeling ok? Your hands are really shaky.” I had not mentioned it to anyone yet…guess it was time to say something. That was early summer. As the summer months progressed, so did the shake. Sometimes my left thumb will spasm. It does not hurt; I just have no control over its movement.

I really don’t notice the shakiness until it is obvious: when I eat, when I write or as I observed last night..when I paint in detail. I was finishing my last two paintings for Saturday’s festival (exciting 🙂 ), but on the one I was elaborating with flowers and side margin décor. My shakiness started to frustrate me as my marginal fancywork continued to expand farther and wider than what I wanted, topping it of with my right hand smearing the metallic red paint amidst the baby blue background.

– – –

This past weekend, there had been (and will be) a lot of conversation about the days ahead and my health. Since my body continues to change, we are moving forward to get the help and resources set up in advance so when life gets more shaky, we have some stability. It was a rough weekend emotionally. As if shaking in fear of losing “independence,” I was reminded that receiving this help will in return help me to continue to live as independently as possible. There are resources and services that we are not familiar with…this is a whole new chapter in life.

It doesn’t come naturally for me to admit that I need the help, but it is then that I am graciously humbled. I had to set aside my pride to see the goodness in this situation. I see a parallelism to my prayers as well. I have been contemplating what it means to “ask, seek, knock” (Matthew 7:7). Three action verbs…why are they so difficult to act upon? And yet I can come before God at any time, not with shaking or trembling, but with confidence.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need…[and] let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken.

Hebrews 4:16, 12:28a

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August 6, 2013 · 4:56 pm

Good grief

If someone asked me if there was a particular book I found myself returning to and rereading, I would have to answer: The Book of Psalms. Don’t get me wrong…I could say ‘The Bible’ as a whole, but even within the Bible, I am consistently in the Psalms. The Book of Psalms seems to cover every emotion of the human heart: anger, fear, sorrow, joy, peace, praise, questions…whatever situation I find myself in, I can find a Psalm to encourage, comfort or challenge my thoughts.

I am not sure what initially caught my attention to the phrase, but I started to note that “steadfast love” made a common appearance throughout the whole book. I recently restarted the Psalms, this time with the intent of not skipping around, but rather reading through the book in numeral order and making reference to the verses containing the phrase, “steadfast love.” I have just begun and realize that there will be many references by the time I reach Psalm 150. 🙂

Seeing, reading, hearing or writing certain phrases (or words) will cause them to get in your mind, and out of the reoccurrence, a habit of saying the phrases (or words) is most likely to follow. Habits like this are strange. It is not that I planned to get myself in phrase habits…it just happens.

The first time I think I started getting into phrase habits was when my sister started to use the term, “cutsie” in describing things. I started to say it, because I heard her say it. Once I got to college, I stopped saying the word. Then there was the term, “Cool beans.” What that means, I am not quite sure but I am glad I chose that particular phrase instead of “Dude.” For some odd reason, I never found myself sounding realistic when I said, “I know dude.” It would be as if I were quoting Janice from the Muppets, “Oh wow, like for surely.” Both were just not in my personality profile I suppose.

Last summer the word was “genius.” If I agreed with something: “Genius!” If I thought a point was well made in a conversation: “Genius.” If I learned something new or finally understood something that was trying to be communicated: “Genius.” Along the way, with my fascination for English/UK history growing, I then ventured to also stating, “brilliant” after my train of thoughts if “genius” had not already been spoken. Of course, I know where I got my word “brilliant” from: try not to laugh but it is the truth–Yzma, off of Disney’s The Emperor’s New Groove. Truth spoken. 🙂 [And if you haven’t seen the movie…you must!]

As of the present, my phrase is “Good grief.” I have no idea where this came from–I don’t even read the cartoon Peanuts either.

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weheartit.com

The phrase itself is neutral; the context of how I say it is when it differs from a plain mutter to a complete mode of venting my frustration. I don’t apply it to people as I did the word, “genius’, but rather I find this time my phrase habit is associated with my physical state. I run into the wall as I turn the corner: “Good grief” (muttered). I can’t get my bobby pins in my hair or my pants buttoned: “Good grief!” (with tone of frustration and a slight, ‘ugh’ added.) I spill something, drop something or can’t get something open: “Good grief” (sort of in whinny tone). These are just a few…but my reoccurrence of the phrase has me once and for all thinking in my mind: “Good grief…why can’t I stop saying this phrase?”

I have tried. Then I catch myself saying it again and it starts to play like a broken record in my mind. I am not sure how to break myself from this phrase habit. I have before with the others but this time since I am sincerely trying to stop the habit, I find it more continual. So as I read the Psalms yesterday, the thought dawned on me that if I see, read, hear, or write a phrase that a habit of saying it will be more likely to follow.

I may not walk around and say, “steadfast love” after every sentence, but it could very well be a map of a new habitual phrase. In seeking the continual reminder of God’s steadfast love, I hope to find that in the end all of my ‘good griefs’ will fade to where only His goodness remains.

Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.

Psalm 33:22 ESV

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August 4, 2013 · 11:20 pm

Simplici-tea

Today was quite simple. And I savored it.

Delicious large chai tea at Stoney Creek Roasters.

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Read selections of letters and sermons from the Puritan era: Samuel Rutherford, William Tyndale, Thomas Brooks’ Precious Remedies Against Satan’s Devices.

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Finished a few more paintings; ready now to complete the details for the upcoming festival on Saturday! 🙂

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How was your day?

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