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Mirror, Mirror

Remember me?

We used to spend quality time together, like friends and I idolized your appearances. I trusted you when you talked beauty, as if you knew my inner lusts and desires to be another fairest of them all.

I kept you close, even carrying you around in my purse, as if you were a cell phone for emergency calls. I was obsessed  with you, Mirror…and in that blindness, I was never at rest. You kept me chasing for more, meaningless lies of image.

Was it jealousy, Mirror? When my eyes began to open and I saw True Beauty did not come from you? Your grip began to fade but I did not abandon you altogether. Remember that night I came to you, fearful and sick…I should have turned away and ran to the One who sees me Beautiful, but I gave in and listened to you. The chemo pills had just started turning my smooth face to a zit-rash and I looked to you for confidence, for comfort. But you offered none. I heard, “You’re ugly.” And yet I still considered you a friend.

It has been a few years since that night, Mirror. Like friends moving on after college, keeping in touch, I feel we endured the same. But I have changed again, Mirror. And when I met you for the first time in months the other evening, I hardly recognized you.  You looked so tired and I took pity. I have stopped running and chasing those meaningless things, friend…because I cannot focus on myself, I am a blur. And I see True Beauty and He calls me Beautiful.

Last February, the 2014 Winter Olympic Games were held in Sochi. Although my favorites are in the summer games, I did enjoy the enthusiasm in the new ski and snowboard events, along with the traditional competitions. I watched the ice skating and all the bobsledding. I was sad that the best events of curling and hockey were only aired in the earliest of early AM, but that is just the way it turned out this time.

Olympic events are fascinating and sometimes I wonder who came up with the category. Take bobsledding…it is like track and a rollercoaster ride, but with so much technique to maintain as you speed like a race car to the finish line. The training must be intense, as any of the other sport categories. As I watched the bobsled event, I was texting my friend. She mentioned the movie, Disney’s 1993 Cool Runnings, and asked if I had ever watched it…and if not, then I should. Just the way life unfolded so quickly, I did not watch the movie until the first part of October. I think I appreciated it more then, as I had been dependent on my walker since the beginning of summer and at the time, slowly recovering from the eye surgery and major fall in September.

Cool Runnings is about the first bobsled team from Jamaica. Talk about major training—these were track sprinters aiming for the chance to be on the Summer Olympic team and represent their nation. After a mishap on the track, the planschanged and even though everyone from their hometown and the teams from around the world doubted them, they came together—with Jamaican pride—and entered the finals, finishing last with the greatest respect from all.

Before the team takes the starting sprint, they say a chant on the final round about feeling the rhythm and bobsled time, ending in a shout (because it is listed in all caps in the captions)—COOL RUNNINGS! I did not know the history behind this first team, so I am cheering for them and find my mouth drop when the sled wrecks on the final turn. Inspirational teary eyes watch as the team gets up and carries the sled through the finish line. I often think of that scene. However, it is more along the lines of the chant. When I stand, my left leg will sometimes need a “starting boost.” I bob my knees up and down a few times, which in motion, rocks the walker back and forth. I just want to shout “Cool Running” and take off down the hall; only problem is that if I fell, I cannot pick myself up and the only line I can foresee crossing, would be the threshold of the ER. And I doubt there would be cheering or clapping.

Not all hope is lost though, as just the other day, I got my wish for the bobsled experience in walker form. Mom and I pulled into the small, five spaced, car parking lot…in which the only slot left happened to be the handicapped (van accessible) slot. After hanging the sign, Mom gets out to retrieve my walker from the trunk; I gather my bag and proceed to open my door and hoist my legs out in twist-to-right fashion . I take note that the whole column—where you should see the diagonal lines signifying the handicap lane usage—is covered in rough winter terrain. Mom is walking fine, so my thought is that it is crunchy snow peaks…no big deal. Nope. I stand, take one step and realize this is a stretch of glaciers!!

“Ohhh, it’s ice,” I whimper. Mom is gripping my left elbow and quickly closes the car door, then we slowly get to the dry sidewalk. I depend on my walker, but out of the house, I also depend on other people. For safety, for strength. Last  night, Mom and I went shopping for basic necessities and groceries. Because Mom can’t push a wheel chair and cart simultaneously, I stayed close to the front end, getting a few things, while Mom took Pharmacy and groceries. I told Mom, “I’ll be careful,” but even as I slowly made my wobbly way to the socks, I was nervous. I started praying for Jesus to be my legs and then started singing a song we taught the kids at Street Church…it is just the verse Philippians 4:13 with a tune.

I found my Bible the other day when doing some rearranging in my room. It is a smaller, possible 5×7 size, which means small print and I have not used it since eye surgery…I have been using the Olive Tree app on my Nook, but there is nothing compared to holding the Bible. Pages winked from back and forth reading, underlining, side notes—times in life when God showed you something or you understood in ways different. I want to see those markings, remember and read the underlined verses…but I cannot. I cannot see them. I did order a table magnified glass that includes an LED light. When it arrives, this is my first viewing.

The truth is, in loosing vision—and the possibility of blindness—I have been convicted. In Spirit. Why is it so easy to memorize songs and movie lines but struggle with what is the most important…the Words of Life.

“One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple.” Psalm 27:4

I’ve been a little distracted in thoughts the past few days. I have had “entry” writings typing in mind, but when I would sit to type them in my computer, the timing and patience and words did not come together. The past few days my mind has been elsewhere–not that I am ignoring tomorrow’s MRI scans and thought process entitled to the subject. Rather, I head to my scans tomorrow with a peace–because what God has shown me, teaching me…I have a peace. It did not come without tears and questions and frustrations…even last night I had more, but as I got in bed and reflected on the past few days–grand days of living to the full–I was happy. And in decisions I have made, I am happy and in this peace, I am happy.

I have discussed before a list of different words or short phrases that I repeat often in a day. I still mutter “good grief,” but I am finding I say it more on the negative slope…when things frustrate me or I am embarrassed. I did find watching A Charlie Brown Christmas to be quite humorous as the kids, such as Charlie Brown or Linus, say the phrase dully. I add a bit of emotion. And in emotion–excited, stunned, and the like–I say, “Oh wow.” Depending on the situation and context, that [phrase can be shouted with all caps and an exclamation point or drawn out with a strand of “0’s” for dramatic effect of shock. These two phrases are like a common language in my vocabulary. Because I am an odd number person, I am finding that I now have a third singular word: Okay.

Similar to the others, I have no memory of how this word came about in my daily talk, but I use it probably the same amount as the other two combined…for replying to someone’s statements or a prep talk to myself when I am catching my breath, anything. Funny how one word can bring a song to mind. In this case, “Alrightokayuhhuhamen,” by Rich Mullins. With a catchy tune, the song speaks exactly what i have been going through the past week or so and especially this weekend when my thoughts meandered. One stanza in particular:

The Lord said let man choose and man did
There’s been sorrow and trouble
In the world ever since
But there’s hope for us still
In the Word God says
If we just be smart enough to just say yes
Smart enough to say yes to Him and say it

Alrightokuhhuhamen
Alrightokuhhuhamen
As it was in the beginning
It will be until the end
Alrightokuhhuhamen

I forget in my changes that God never changes. When we say “Amen,” we are saying, “So be it,” In  American Sign Language, there is no greater, more beautiful or full of reverence sign than, “God.” I also find the sign for ” Amen” to be significant in its meaning of hand movements. To sign the word, you are actually using the sign, “Help,” modified. You hold your left hand out flat, palm facing upward. Then place your right fist with thumb up n the left palm. To sign it as “Amen,” move both hands upward slightly as they sign “Help.” Isn’t that neat? As if signing complete surrender. Often, my prayers are just that…help. Last night in my moment of tears and frustrations, I asked a simple, “Why?” But unlike tomorrow’s scan  results, I already know the answer to my question…and all I can say, Okay, so be it.

“For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol…” It was the only portion of the verse from Psalms that came to mind as I sat talking in a Skype chat with my friend on New Year’s Day. We talk often and now with my eyes in the current conditions, I use my Nook so that I can hold it to my face and use my bifocals. The only drawback for her is that she cannot see me as my Nook is not compatible with a web cam; she doesn’t mind.

She had just read my latest entry, The Color Clear, and wanted to see how I was doing. As we got deeper in, talk flowed from my current state of physical sufferings to my dreams to what God placed in my heart years ago during college to what I am seeking and learning to trust…the fullness of God when it is not perceivable in my human eyes.

“My time here is not done yet,” I tell her in relation to one of my dreams, where I know God was speaking this to me, to affirm and comfort. I add, “And I know…that in these sufferings, He will not leave me to do it alone.” That is when the verse came to mind.

I was sort of vague in my post, What Matters, about changes that I could see becoming more permanent in the future months…I have been tracking my yes closely and the only real obvious one at the moment is that I am requiring more help. All mingled with each aspect of my body, I guess that is why I kept it vague. Even before Christmas, I had made important decisions to discuss with my doctor after my MRI of the brain and neck, February 3rd. I was scheduled to see my neuro-ophthalmologist on February 20th. Well, changes are happening faster than I might want and to me–my eyes are what matter most physically.

My appointment with my eye doctor got reset to yesterday. The typical read letters on the wall, resulted in more of a conversation about the right eye. I only have a small sliver of which I see things, more on the outer rim. There has to be light though, but I can catch movement and see items (such as the refrigerator when sitting at the table.) It is a very dark eye. My left eye optic nerve looks well. However, my vision decreased a small amount–which I had wondered–and in taking a visual field test, there is the darkened vision on the upper rim and lower rim of the inner eye…which I also guessed, because of lip-reading problems and the tint darkening.

Because my neuro-ophthalmologist would like to see more, he did not want to wait for the MRI on the 3rd. It is teset for next week. Then, along with my main doctor at Children’s and the surgeon from my right eye surgery, they will discuss the scans and see if there may be any way to help keep the left eye stable.

More changes means more decisions, means more trust in God and I still don’t feel ready to face the uncertainties even though I know I am not alone. I still had not looked up the reference for the Psalm that had come t mind the week before, so as I lay in bed Tuesday evening, I did:

For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let your holy one see corruption.

You make known to me the path of life, in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Psalm 16:10-11

Yes, yesterday’s news still came more than hard for thoughts, because of the unknowns. Even today, my thinking was altered…but as I now write this, I see that the unknown is like doubt–like dwelling in Sheol. And I have been rescued from that place, even the darkness that persists.

White is surrounding me.

Like the peaks of majestic mountains to the tips of gushing waves, the moon shining in night sky.

White is bold.

Like the salt to savor meat, the sweetness of whipped cream above your latte, the pearl necklace for a bride.

White is beautiful.

Like the valiant horse for a King to the forgiveness of wrongs, the robe of the saints.

White is pure.

White surrounds me and I see Light.

Ending 2014, I had such determination to achieve all my personal goals of things that had to be finished…no more lingering on the lists but checked off complete. New Year’s Eve rolled in and I had sincere confidence that I could do the same in the New Year. After the stroke of midnight, all was well. Bringing in the newness with Marcia and my aunt could not have been more memorable! Then January 2nd arrived and dropped off a package of reality–this year would not be like last year; no, it is new and already I am seeing changes that will likely be more permanent  in the months to come.

Unlike previous years, I entered 2015 with no goals, no words of the year and no book challenge. Maybe this was too extreme, because I am finding my mind just wanders. Not so much wanders but almost fighting time as I see it–part of me sees that I have time now to just live and do things that I want to do while I still can and part of me eyes the reverse that I have so  much to get done that I can’t on my own and I am running out of time.

One of my favorite movies is The Ride. Growing up in a southwest ranch country, the cowboy theme just could not fit any better bonus our town held a rodeo and Stampede every summer!! But that is not why I favorite the movie . . . it is because of Danny O’Neal. The movie starts 0ff at a rodeo. We meet the main man–the famous bull rider, Smokey Banks–as he just competed. Now living a life of failure rides, drinking and gambling mishaps resulting in fights, Smokey is headed to nowhere but trouble. Until that day. He meets Danny, who is an ultimate fan of Smokey Banks.

Mike Stillwell runs a boy’s ranch, where troubled boys are given a second chance; we discover Smokey Banks ending at the ranch after a series of events at the rodeo . . . but it was not the events that landed him at the ranch. He had stolen Mike’s truck in a chase to get his trailer and belongings, taken by the bank. Even beyond that, Danny prayed Smokey would come to the ranch and God answered. Smokey now had his second chance–and a task, teach Danny to ride a bull.

Danny is not a troubled teen; he was sent to the ranch through a trust fund after both his parents died. Danny has cancer, but that never stops him from wanting to ride a bull. At what I consider the climax of the movie, Smokey seeks out Danny in his ranch house room. It was the eve before Danny’s junior bull riding competition and Smokey wanted to present Danny with a belt buckle he had won from his early riding days. Danny said he wanted to win his own and Smokey told him that he believed he would, but to have it anyway.

Then Danny says something so profound, it often comes to mind…especially this past few weeks. In discussing winning, Danny looks at Smokey and says in full confidence: “You see, it is not about how long I am on. But how well I ride.”

Even though Danny is discussing bull riding, I see it in view of my life as well. I should be enjoying the life God has given me, being mindful that it is but a breath. And I should be living out the Spiritual gifts that God has placed in me, leaving the worries of tomorrow in God’s hands. I have to admit–experiencing the decay and knowing the road ahead is not a smooth one, I just want the easier way. If a bull rider wanted the easy way, he should never get on for the ride. The Apostle Paul write to the church at Philippi,

Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. Only let us hold true to what we have attained. (3:13-16)

So what matters? God is revealing to me in different ways what should matter most in my life . . . drawing closer to Him–in all things, because He will give me the strength to press on each day. He alone will judge how well I ride.

Do you perceive Clear to be a color? I do. And the more Clear dims from my vision, the more I am convinced that it is not only a color, but a transmitter–a prism–in which all other colors of life are viewed in light.

“I live in darkness,” I say the morning of the Chick-Fil-A party…although, the electricity bills probably prove otherwise.  I had just mentioned, yet again, the need for all the lights to be turned on so I had a better chance at lip-reading. It’s amazing what light can do, especially natural sunlight–which we have only had a few days over the past few weeks. The overcast has not helped the new tint conditions either and it is dark to me whether the lights are all on or not.

It has only been since around Thanksgiving that I took notice of the left eye changes being more consistent, and when the tint of color changes started, I knew it was not just fatigue or even dry eyes (which doesn’t help and I have had a bad case of since before cataract correction.) It is difficult to explain this tint, as you know from previous posts; but at breakfast that morning of the party, we sat finishing our coffee and discussing this, to where Dad suggests the left eye “like a rose tint?” as compared to my grey with blind spots in the right eye. I don’t know how Dad guessed rose as the tint, but he is almost exact…just add the fuzzyness and that has been my increasing change over the holidays. And the change is still happening.

To be honest, this Christmas was very different. I am pretty sure I was in tears more than laughter, but there ere the notable and memorable occasions. Trying to stay focused on the joy surrounding everything, the back of my mind was a turmoil of thoughts. I know it is also in my spiritual life too, because I have had dreams and I have never felt so much in the flesh fighting against each other in the daily living.

As Christmas ended, I looked back at this year and tried to remember who I was contrast to who I am now. I often don’t grasp the realization of all that truly changed; it’s overwhelming. I don’t recognize myself in the mirror; I don’t remember the view of clear vision full of color or walking without a walker; I can’t remember the sound of my family’s voices or the roar of Muffy’s purr. Thoughts like this are fading memories and like my fading vision, I guess I am not ready to let go of them. After a year of change, I am exhausted.

Still, not all change was physical. I was being molded like pottery, like the jars of clay in the Maker’s hand. Even now, the phrase, “We live by faith, not by sight,” has taken a whole new meaning in my life. No longer is it the easy “Christian faith slogan”, but the hard core truth of my relationship with Christ as I start a new year with extreme visual impairment (not to mention everything else on the list.) As fast as the year came and went, the road was long, the road is hard. I can expect more challenges and change in the new year and am I willing to let go of myself–even my sight, if that is what comes–in order to draw nearer to Christ. It is a question I cannot answer in words.

I enter 2015, knowing that faith doesn’t promise clear answers to all my questions…but rather a colorful life, lived in the fullness of God’s mercy and grace.

Until then…

Mel

Which came first? The chick or the Chick-Fil-A sandwich? If this were a test, I might just “when in doubt, Charlie out,” and say, “C: the peppermint milkshake.” 🙂

Okay, seriously now–Saturday was a grand day! A day of family, friends, fellowship and feasting. All provided by Chick-Fil-A. Even the cow mascot came and this time, I didn’t have to chase it down for a picture. Because it came to see me. So how did this come about? Well, let me tell you, but first a brief history.

I have no recollection of Chick-Fil-A while growing up. I ate a chicken sandwich once my sophomore or so year of high school when my mom and I attended a Girls of Grace conference in Littleton with my best friend and her mom. It was the lunch passed out…no fries, but a bag of chips and an apple. No sweet teas or milkshakes, but water. Chick-Fil-A was just not something we ate. In our hometown, we had Dairy  Queen, Pizza Hut, Subway and a few family owned Mexican restaurants that nothing can ever compare to in taste! Or family road trips were always the same–Wendy’s. And we had extreme customer loyalty, no natter how many times our order was incorrect. Being older now, I appreciate the menue of baked potatoes and chili. But in younger years, it was the fries dipped in your frosty and the cool prizes placed in the kid’s meal bags. The days of Carmen San Diego–and they gave detective kits! Another time, there were these plastic visors. Inside they were blue, but in the sun, they turned purple. I still had mine in the seventh grade, because I wore it at a summer church camp. Yes, I can’t hear you, but I know you are laughing. I do too–especially when I see the proof in my photo album. 🙂

College was Atlanta Bread and Srarbucks, so it wasn’t until post-grad that I ate Chick-Fil-A …only a few times in Denver, usually at the mall food court when I was shopping. The turn-over was January of 2010 when I went for ten days to see family in NC and VA. As my aunt and I picked up my cousin from the airport on our way to my grandparents, we went to a Chck-Fil-A drive-thru to order my cousin a meal. They asked if I wanted anything, say a peppermint milkshake–I said I had never tried one. Their utter disbelief quickly turned into an order. Then I was in utter disbelief–

When we first moved here, I had been transferred, so I had a job when all the process was complete; this was a huge blessing! However, I moved from one of the biggest SuperTarget stores in west Denver, attached to the coolest flat mall with an indoor mile loop connecting the stores to just a simple Target. No deli, bakery, legitimize food section or Starbucks. Even cash office felt like going from an executive’s office to a cubicle, but I found my co-workers and leaders tremendously kind and to satisfy the stomach, well, Chick-Fil-A is right across the parking lot. 🙂

I only partake leadership roles, ever so enthusiastically, when it is something I am extremely passionate about (such as training all the new cash officers before ending my time at Target) or if it is random sounding fun. In the case of the summer after the move, it was the latter of the two. The idea of dressing like a cow for a free chicken sandwich was hilarious! I went home to tell the family, who were not so enthusiastic at first (except Mom). but I finally got some more support from Uncle Kim and off we went for our first experience of Cow Appreciation Day!  Of course , Dad did not want to stand out in the herd and went as Farmer Brown…they still gave him a free sandwich for good humor.

I

“You’ll never guess this surprise!” Mom tells me, grinning and sort of laughing simutaneously. She was right, I would have never guessed–Uncle Kim’s daughter now works for Chick-Fil-A. I still do not understand as the why or what old pictures she and her boss stumbled upon one day, but my family and I were in one. After hearing about my story and condition, her boss wanted to express kindness and called my Mom. Chick-Fil-A would cater in for a party…I could invite as many people as I wanted, we just had to give them some possible dates and an estimate of how many guests. They took care of everything else; Mom made the invitations, then we waited for the day to come!

I actually was grumpy that morning. I was frustrated at my eyes and how dark even the outdoors seemed to be. My intestines have been quite intolerable lately and time (when I feel rushed) flusters me. I didn’t even have to do anything but put on my shoes after coffee and I still felt this way. Marcia came in to paint my nails–talking with her helped me forget the woes and I even had time to put on a touch of make-up (a little blush,) 🙂

By the time Chick-Fil-A and other guests arrived, I forgot everything…the grumpies, sick feeling, even that the party started for me. It was like a big potluck and I was talking so much, I didn’t get a chance to finish eating until most everyone had left. The lunch was more than food for the stomach, it was food for my soul. Ever since eye surgery, I have been missing steady fellowship. Trying to make it on your own is just not possible…yes, I have the access of snail mail and social media avenues, but it is not the same as face to face. Saturday was not about me, per say, but about fellowship–building each other up, encouraging one another and getting to know each other better. This Cbristmas has been so different for me. Mostly because I am in a season of deeper physical change, leaving me also seeking spiritual strength that is often hard to find on the bad days. But Saturday brought a day of joy…laughter that I have been seeking. Ahd I can’t thank Chick-Fil-A enough for the kindness extended towards my family and I. It is a memory to cherish.

And so, as Tiny Tim observed, ‘God bless us, every one.’

Charles Dickens. A Christmas Carol.

In the first grade, I remember learning of our five senses. One of the best memories was a game we played with a partner, in which we learned about our sense of taste by learning about the different areas of taste-buds on the tongue. As we took turns being blindfolded, our partner chose food items to place by a spoon on the different areas of the tongue; being blindfolded, you had to guess the food item. I don’t remember what my partner told me not to give her, but in my first-grader mind, I guess I thought it would be funny to do it anyway. Obviously, great minds don’t think alike in this matter and I paid for it with a heaping scoop of dry instant coffee on my next turn. Makes sense now that I think of it–I cannot drink straight black coffee. 🙂 (haha)

Our five senses: sight, hearing, touch, taste and smell.

By reading my posts, it is rather obvious that this disease affects the five senses. Most often, I write about my senses of sight, touch or hearing, because on the scale of daily activity, these are the largest portion of frustration and concern for future needs of dependency. The other two senses of smell and taste are also effected, but not anything too immense as of yet in my view. I can still taste food…though some is extremely bland when it probably is not and others extremely spicy when it probably is not. As my tongue, gums, throat, and neck continue to numb, I do have to eat with caution–chewing more carefully and making sure to watch for the hot temperature foods, but  still taste.

My sense of smell is an entirely different story. My freshman year of high school, I underwent a six weeks of intense radiation…the tumor growing on the 5th nerve in the brain was one of the ones targeted, among others in the brain and neck. NF2 is already a rare disease, then add my doctor listing all the possible side-effects from most common to rarely seen ones–the last few were pretty strange. One was the way radiation could affect your sense of smell. “It’s very uncommon in most patients,” I was told. I may have put a slight startle in that comment, as the only real side-affect I endured (besides hair loss and fatigue) was indeed an overly dramatic sense of smell. Because Children’s Hospital was Downtown at the time, Mom and I would have to drive Colfax Ave. from there to Aurora where radiation took place. Colfax made me sick. We tried to avoid getting behind semi trucks for that reason.

Fast forward eight years and I am still in Denver…having just graduated from CCU, a trip to Greece, a steady job and still hanging out with Street Church, life was so great! Then the tumor on the 5th nerve started growing fast. And we discovered all my radiation from freshman year was unwinding and causing problems, and I would restart chemo. Life was still great, I just entered a new stage…one that led to where I am now. And the first of my five senses to depart was smell.

When we moved here, my smell was already gone although I could get “wisps” of scent every-so-often. No more. No more flowers, soaps or lotions, dinners, deserts or the “eat fresh” vibe of Subway; no more gas station smell as you fill the tank or anything burnt. Nothing. Really, it doesn’t ever cross my mind in a day unless I think o a fire. A fire would involve all my senses–in which I lack the alarm in every area, so I leave my worry on that subject to God’s protection. The only other time I think often of smell is when I can. Yes, I just wrote that I have no smell, but here the past week, I smell.

This has only happened once before–over a year ago–in which I wrote an entry about smelling a sweet aroma. As quick as it came, it vanished. I completely forgot about this sensation until it reappeared. I still can’t describe the smell…even saying “the smell after the rain,” is not quite, but the best I can think of at the moment. All I know is that no one else can smell this and it has been designed for me. I believe even the timing is a God-thing.

This past week or so has had many experiences to make this a memorable holiday season…some joyous and other not. “Remember the good times,” Dad tells me with a hug after my intestines ruined the Christmas shopping fun. And I am trying. Yet I still climb in bed and often completely lose myself in desperation before God. He quietly reminded me again that I just need to be still, the battle is not mine. He goes before me, and as hard as it is to endure this physical state, it is the sweet assurance that my battle has already been won. I can live victorious.

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take Him at His Word;
Just to rest upon His promise,
And to know, “Thus saith the Lord!”

• Refrain:
  Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
  How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er;
  Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
  Oh, for grace to trust Him more.

I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee,
Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend;
And I know that Thou art with me,
Wilt be with me to the end.

~Louisa M.R. Stead

As colleges and universities finished the semester last week, I too presented myself with an academic challenge. I may not have pulled any all-nighters, though on most days last week, you could find me reading–nose in Nook–until 2am. Thus, coffee was still a morning necessity, but it is more ruotine, so I gave myself some slack in hat area. 🙂

What was my academic challenge?

Books.

Did you guess? 🙂 I love to read, but this year reading was different in a way. And I think I know why. At the beginning of the year, my cousin–who writes entries every so often for the blog Kindred Grace–emailed me and said that they were going to be attempting a book exchange and that I might be interested. Of course, sounds like random fun. As you filled out the questionnaire…genres or authors you prefer or not, books you own or may have read, and three on your wish list to read…you were then matched as close possible with someone who may have the same interests or just seems like a good pair. I am not sure how many girls participated, but we used Goodreads as a way to connect, share our reads of past, current and wish list and enjoy some new recommendations and opinions. Goodreads is a Facebook for book worms. 😉

The best part–yes, you sent a book and received one–was the fellowship. I still write my exchange partner on Goodreads here and there, if I notice her current read titles have a book I wan to read or have already. I noticed I did the same in conversation with friends over the year; books stimulate conversation: we all have our likes and dislikes, so by sharing them, we “expand ours horizons,’ as my Dad would say. Books are meant to be shared. Through this year, especially after the eye surgery, I experienced this, but in thought of others enjoying the pages rather than the dust, pairing titles with family and friends was like being a librarian, offering recommendations without spoiling the ending…which is what I often do best.

“So, now you can read the book for yourself,” I tell my sister, Megan, as we laughed. I had basically told her the whole plot–even the last sentence of the book, which I had found hilarious. What a way to share books, indeed! Therefore, I present to you my list (title and author only)–a list of books that I found exceptional–some were recommended, some were found randomly when browsing e-reads through the library on my Nook and some I have had on my bookshelf for too long.

Fiction

• Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks
• Call Me By My Name by John Ed Bradley
• Dear Mr. Knightly by Katherine Reay
• Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

Historical Fiction

• Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford
• Gideon’s Call by Peter Leavell

Non-fiction

• One Nation: What We Can Do to Save America’s >Future by Ben Carson, MD
• A Dog Walks Into a Nursing Home: Lessons in the Good Life from an Unlikely Teacher by Sue Halpern
• Evidence Not Seen: A Woman’s Miraculous Faith in the Jungles of World War II by Darlene Deibler Rose
• Life in Spite of Me: Extraordinary Hope After a Fatal Choice by Kristen Anderson
• Dewey: The Small Town Library Cat Who Touched the World by Vicki Myron
• Hands of My Father by Myron Uhlberg

Juniors

• The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton
• The Great Wall of Lucy Wu by Wendy Wan-Long Shang
• The Healing Spell by Kimberley Griffiths Little

What were your exceptional or favorite reads this year?