August 22, 2014 · 10:48 pm

The Blob

Yesterday had me feeling like a blob. There’s nothing worse than feeling like a blob–I had entered the room with great defense, but left like a weak and helpless one. Being a blob in your mind will have you wallow in this way. I put my brain on mental stand-by as we made our way to the car and dozed while Mom and Dad made their way in construction and traffic to the nearest Cracker Barrel.

Comfort food, I started to regain composure. I can’t say it was back to Mel, but I was trying, although I just wanted to be home. That was comfort. At home I make tea and start a new book on the library app that I have downloaded on my Nook. A black background and white words. It’s like a photo negative effect and I read the text so clearly.

It reflected my day completely. My inner blob was my defense. Turn the room of people around like viewing from a negative in the light: and see the defense signs from the bleachers, from loved ones in the crowd; those around cheering me on, those around working ideas to keep me going, those around hindering my path that leads to the blob.

The Blob. It’s pain, suffering, confusion, justification, frustration and fear, selfishness and comfort, unfocused purpose. It’s the complete negative (literal meaning) of the Fruit of the Spirit.

The blob in me comes and goes as I embrace the newness of realty: “Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow,” Psalm 144:4. It is not easy lowering your defenses..but it is not a weakness either. In living, I am learning this…

3 Comments

Filed under Adjusting to NF2, Uncategorized

August 21, 2014 · 1:22 am

Secret Codes

When we were little, my sisters and I played “Spy.” If you have never been associated with this game, allow me to explain. It all begins with a sheet of wide-ruled paper and a wooden No. 2 pencil that was usually used for math class, hence, it lacks the eraser. After spending half of your spy time by creating a detailed floor plan of the downstairs areas, especially the kitchen, the game has now begun.

It’s a parallel to hide-and-seek with follow-the-leader. The objective is to pinpoint the non-playing family members and spy on them without being seen or heard. Melissa, being the eldest and cunning, always seemed to end the spying eye on her at first notice; Mom just played along, even when we giggled or accidentally moved the table chairs while trying to knee past them on the tile floor. It was the era of Carmen Sandiego and our games of Spy just happened to help us solve our curiosity mysteries.

Fast forward to junior high days–it was in these days that I learned two fundamental traits that would guide me as I started losing my hearing in the end of eighth grade: sign language and lip-reading. I first learned sign language from Melissa my sixth grade year, as she had learned a song at summer camp. That next summer meant that I was old enough to attend church camp as well, but I did not take the signing class–my friends did, however, and that year I learned, “I Can Only Imagine.” My junior year of high school, I took a community ASL class with my Dad; I had been self-teaching myself from a few signing books I purchased at the local college, but the course helped increase my vocabulary.

Until my lip-reading rehabilitation course during my first rounds of radiation in 2002, I never realized how much I was already reading. I sometimes get asked when I first started, and I honestly don’t know. I do remember once getting a talk from Mom after getting into trouble, in which I read her lips…but I always thought that may have resulted from a guilty conscience rather than hearing loss. 🙂

We may have no longer played our games of Spy, but we sisters developed in the junior high years a code. A secret code, and we would relay this message to each other in our times of need: SPR!! Yes, these three letters were part of the foundation to my lip-reading career. Best part was that we could say them to each other from across the dining room table or Sunday School room. The message was simple, so loud and clear: Secret Private Room. It usually was the closet, but some of our best secrets and cases solved were a result of the SPR!

Fast forward to the present day: I no longer play Spy or hold SPR meetings in my closet, but I do enjoy the game of CLUE. My college roommate and friend from Denver days surprised me with a visit on the weekend of the art show! Considering my past history in solving mysteries, one would think I would have not been so confused at the situation, when Callista taps my shoulder and I look up to see her smiley face. I was at the kitchen table reading, so I had my glasses off; Mom had just been discussing the new neighbors, resulting in my next sentence understanding of who I portray Callista to be in my mind: “You look like my roommate from college.” The lip-reading, because in my mind I know it is Calista, but I think it’s the new neighbor–it just threw me off completely.

“Hold on a sec and let me get my glasses on,” thinking of how I don’t like new introductions as I am terrible at names. I turn back around, see Kate and glance back at Callista. “What are you doing here?” It finally settles in–yes, these are my friends and they came to see me. 🙂 Later that night, we played CLUE. My hand of cards was not the greatest. I had all characters and two rooms, no weapon options. We play a few rounds and I had two characters left–still no weapons marked and only one room (besides my own) marked off the choices. Deciding to subject my own character to checks and balances, I place him in the nearest room and random grab a choice weapon.

“I think it is Mr. Plumb, in the kitchen with a candlestick.” Kate had no cards, Callista had no cards; they look at me like I am pure genius. “It was just a guess,” I had to assure them. Back came the conversations of Carmen Sandiego and I mentioned the show Sue Thomas, F.B.I.–inspired by the true story of Sue Thomas, who solved crimes by lip-reading: a deaf F.B.I. agent.

I must have been inspired by all these memories when it came to Monday’s MRI. Being an older, complicated body patient, my scans usually get scheduled for the last of the day. Monday was no exception. I was to report by 5pm for the preparations (which is translated as paperwork and questions); the scans starting at 5:30. I am comfortable with the long scans–usually they are my nap time when scheduled for earlier in the day. With this scan scheduled late, I knew if I napped, I would not sleep when I got home. Selecting my movie, I toyed with the Lord of the Rings, but once I start one–I must watch them ALL. To escape this, I selected Star Wars V: The Empire Strikes Back.

They get me settled in with the head-gear, strap my arms in, blanket and knee lifter; I am all ready for the scan and movie, although the goggles pressed hard into my nose. The opening overture and text starts–I find that looking at the screen with my left eye is actually blurred. So I allow that eye a break, close it, and view the movie from my right…aside from color differences, I saw things pretty normal considering its condition.

We’re still the beginning parts of the movie: Rebel forces are fighting the Empire on the ice planet Hoth and aside from that action, there are a few scenes with Darth Vader and his top commanders on his spaceship. It was right at the moment when the light, snowy planet Hoth gets cut off to the scene of the darkness of the spaceship that I am thinking I am seeing a secret code! You’ve heard of it before–movies will flash messages to the audience: “Buy popcorn.” Or something to that extent.

As the camera zooms in on the outer of the spaceship, I am seeing words, in what I think is the little lights from the inner of the spaceship. All excited, I start squinting to decipher the code, thinking, “Wow. My right eye problems give me a chance to see things different!” I start to see it is in sentences:

“This movie is 2 and a half hours long….” It goes on to tell me that it is not good for my eyes and that I should shut it off and sleep. But just in case I still wanted to view the movie,”Press [*].” So much for codes-Luke hadn’t even gone to Dagobah to find Yoda yet and it wants me to sleep! Thinking that my eye had recently gained some sort of cool lens power made me laugh.

In life, there are secrets and mysteries. Some will be revealed, some will not. Instead of solving them, I am learning to live in them.

Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.

Jeremiah 33:3

3 Comments

Filed under Adjusting to NF2, Books and Movies, Family Times, Funny Stories, Hospital Trips, Uncategorized

August 20, 2014 · 9:58 pm

When I Paint

This year’s Art on the Lawn Festival could not have gone any better! I think it all started with the fact that even with all the summer happenings–family and friend visits, a trip to Colorado, a cataract surgery and recovery, a weekend in Michigan, more family and friend visits–I completed all my paintings and preparations in good timing! Not to say that the prior two years I necessarily procrastinated, but this year, I felt in control of the situation…but that came in part of the previous year’s trial and error tactics.

It’s special to reflect back on events and see growth of where you have been and where you are now. My first show, I literally had no clue what I was setting myself into, yet I challenged myself and some of my best paintings resulted from that year. I was very social, but more as a “represent” of The Children’s Tumor Foundation as a portion of my earnings would be donated for continued research. Starting off with a strong foot helped me know which areas that needed shifting and others that I wanted to see more of at the next show.

Last year’s show came all too quickly! My paintings had started to incorporate different medium items; I still challenged myself, but gone were the days of extreme detail sets. I had started to find my fit and style, and enjoyed working painting in ways that challenged me, but more in creativity rather than detail. When the day of the show came, we were better in readiness, as Dad’s well-planned system in hanging my paintings saved us much time and less hassle than the previous year. But I found myself more quiet; my sister did most of the talking and by the end of the day, I was tired of being,”the girl with a disease” story. As I was preparing for this year, that was the first adjustment–it just had to go.

“I’m not putting up any signs for The Children’s Tumor Foundation or anything,” I told Mom as we were finishing putting the price tags on the canvases. “I’ll just have my business cards laid out,” I concluded. Mom said that was fine, her reassurance that it was okay for this to be my day. Best decision I could have made for the day. There was no pressure to discuss my every problem with everyone–though there were some questions asked and I answered or if I didn’t understand, I had the help I needed from my parents and friends. (Not to mention, I probably was a bit obvious with my use of walker, especially trudging on the grass to the bathrooms!) 😉

It was a day of art–of friends and conversations; meeting new artists around my booth; and coming home, in complete exhaustion, with a thankful and happy heart.

5 Comments

Filed under Family Times, Funny Stories, Paintings, Uncategorized

August 12, 2014 · 11:59 pm

I’m Confused

If you and I were sitting at a table, just talking about life and letting conversation flow, I would hope like any other normal conversation, there would be transition sentences to help me follow the train of thoughts of topics at hand. Maybe there is too much of a writer’s dream in that thought. But maybe that is my problem–I read too deeply into things; and my lip-reading often leaves my decoding of transitional phrases not what the transition is even about..so off sometime that my Dad signed to me (after patiently trying to help me understand), ” I’m changing the subject.”

“So, we’re not talking about writing letters anymore?”

“No.”

Such clarity, simple change. After yesterday…I could have used a little clarity, because what I have been living with over the past two or so months is anything but simple change. My Life with NF2 is appropriately labeled more as, My Life is so Confused.

As you know, my summer started with the increasing cataract hazy blur. Add the grey veil in the right eye, correction surgery on the left eye, endless eye drops, full and well recovery for the left eye while the right eye worsens…it has reached a point where I feel more blind with my glasses on than off; and I am already as blind as a bat anyway. Except even bats are better in knowing their surroundings–they see as a result of high pitch sound waves and the echo replies. High pitch frequencies were the first part of my hearing to diminish. So, me: no hearing (which really is not all that unbearable)–but it only becomes totally unbearable when you cannot see or when you see double, all in which is now me.

I would venture to say that 98% of this perpetual blindness is the current swollen right optic nerve. My MRI is on Monday, ophthalmologist appointment on Wednesday and Children’s Hospital on Thursday; next week is going to be a long week. But I have questions and ready for more answers, regardless of what the scans show. When I have my glasses off, my left eye does the controlling, though I try to refrain from zoning my right eye out entirely and keep it functioning straight ahead. Most often though, when I lip-read, write or even type…my right eye acts like a lazy eye. It is becoming a bad habit.

In preparing for the art show, I even painted in this fashion:  one eye and one hand. No glasses.

IMG_5525

IMG_5527

IMG_5530

When we were setting the dates for my eye appointments in May, I specifically selected at the time (for what I understood) as my last appointment, post-surgery to be after the Art on the Lawn Festival. Summer in all fullness and yet eyes worsening, I was not only counting to the art show, but to yesterday where I had the understanding from earlier on  that I would be tested in the left eye for the new glasses lens to match my new eye lens they placed at surgery. I felt that would solve some of the bur problem when needing my glasses on…I can’t go everywhere without them; Although I do most often when at home, once even going down the stairs as it made the dizzy blur decrease.

These little but big changes–I was in anticipation! Instead, I left the clinic..with a dilated left eye and grey veil in the other…in my now confused mind, I had wasted a day just waiting (literally, almost five hours)–for nothing. I was so frustrated, angry, confused, not to mention hungry, and crying so hard, Mom pulled over on the highway to give me some clarity. I still don’t understand why my surgeon wants me to wait another 2-3 months, have another check and then get my new prescription if the eye is good even now. I don’t think I will make it that long! I am still confused.

But I am also wondering what next week will hold. And I often want to ask God for clarity in this mass of confusion I call a body. Not really a prayer, not really a demand…a simple question: What are you doing? And it’s a question that only faith can clarify.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5 Comments

Filed under Adjusting to NF2, Family Times, Hospital Trips

August 1, 2014 · 8:22 pm

Ordinary Life

My morning’s anticipation to sit, have coffee and then finish getting some packages ready to mail must not have communicated the message well with my body, because when I rolled out of bed…morning had just ended. Frustrated, I did sit with coffee, but chose the counter angle facing the dishwasher and munched on slightly burnt toast.

I finish and get started on the two different letters I wanted to include in the packages. Considering what I could or normally write, the letters were short and I aspired for my neatest penmanship, though I am not sure that is how I should describe my chicken scratches on precious notebook paper. 🙂

I look at the clock…I only have 45 minutes until we need to leave for my hair appointment and errands. I know–45 minutes–ordinarily, that sounds like plenty of time to get ready, but I don’t quite consider myself ordinary in that case. Especially not with extraness. Yesterday, unknown to me, I gave myself a deep gash in an already very bruised area of my front shin. If you want to understand how numb my legs seem to be, this explains fully: the deepness of my gash shows that it was no light love tap on the leg.

And I didn’t feel it–however, I am always running into things so ordinarily that maybe my mind just ignored the bump, because it is like routine. I am not sure, but by the time I noticed scarlet red, I had it all over my new bathmat, bathroom rug, left leg and foot. At least it happened in the bathroom, but still…extraness! And thanks to my blood thinner pills, it is going to take a few days for it to stop bleeding every time I get ready in the morning. My 45 minutes this morning were cut even shorter due to this and by the time Mom dropped me off for my appointment, I was trying to catch my breath (figuratively) and hold myself together as I had already had a breakdown when getting ready.

I don’t know if any others have experienced this, but it seems that on the days I get my hair trimmed or re-permed, in my view, quite possibly everything goes wrong before the appointment. After I get in the chair, glasses off and the “cape” around my neck, things start to change. My hair stylist here in town is my age but we live such different lives–honestly, all I know about her is that she is married, shops at American Eagle (from observation) and does wonders with my flimsy hair. And she listens.

Like everyone else in town who knew me when I first moved here, seeing me now is probably not as big of a shock as it is for those who haven’t seen me in a longer period of time. People in town have seen the slow (or fast paced) changes as they come. In a way, this is true for my lady friends at the hair salon, except I go almost two months at a time before I see them again. Sometimes there is no change; other times, there is…like the first time I came in using my walker. It is always out of concern that thy ask their questions, so it didn’t surprise me today when my friend asked what happened to my leg as she helped me into the chair.

Giving her a brief story, she gets started. The only time we have an “actual” conversation is when she is rinsing my hair, as it is the only time I really see her face to lip-read; anything past that is just me talking. I miss being able to chat while someone does my hair…not the gossip stuff or venting frustrations, but just life–ordinary life. Hairdressers are service professionals and I pay my friend to use her hands to keep my hair (and eyebrows, haha) looking nice. So I think–because every time I enter for an appointment feeling crummy, but leave in lighter spirits feeling grand in my newly trimmed hair–that her service is not just for my hair. Yes, it is her professional work..but I can’t see her serving so tenderly if she didn’t love what she does, if she didn’t have a passion for it.

It goes for anyone. As I was cleaning up from panting last night, I was frustrated! I can no longer waltz around grabbing paint tubes or canvases or paint brushes. Ordinary for me is now one-handed and the other using to hold for balance.  It is not that I have lost my passion for painting, per say. I think it is more a confused passion in life’s challenges that I have not embraced yet. I stare at them, much like last night when I faced the blank 48×36 canvas that I intend to complete by next week. Instead of aspiring excitement, I said, “How am I going to do this?” I ask that same question daily, so much that it has become so ordinary. And it can drain the passion I know God desires me to have–so I should stop asking “How?” because He already told me that I can.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. ~Philippians 4:13

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

July 31, 2014 · 11:59 pm

Seeing Art (Outside the Box)

Tonight as I painted, I tried a new approach. It was called, “Mel takes off her glasses to see.” Sounds like an oxymoron, which I suppose it is, but that is what I did. (And just to clarify any safety concerns you may have in mind: yes, I was sitting.) 🙂 In fact, even now as I type, my gasses are beside me; same when I read or even eat, in some instances. Point is, I walk around in my glasses as if they are not my glasses–at first, it was just the left eye, after the cataract surgery, but now, it seems as if I am dealing with a cataract still in the right eye…blending with the grey haze. I can’t say this for certain, but will be discussing things with my various doctors in the next few weeks. I am ready to find out more of what is going on and what else we can do in this situation.

In the mean time, I find the best solution to avoiding headaches is taking my glasses off. My painting yesterday was the a simple prep of background for a painting I finished tonight and sorting through my button container to find the “finishing touches” of another. Add to that the fact it was mid-afternoon, so it was a more cheery work space, even with my glasses. Tonight I did paint two paintings while standing, meaning I was wearing my glasses. The first was a sunset–simple abstract, ten colors blending together; it’s style is one of my favorites to paint. The second was a redo, in different colors, of what my plans had been in the first attempt of Epic Fail. Using all shades of reds, pinks, purple and silver, I will be anxious to see how it looks in the full light of the morning. I felt as if I was playing more of a guessing game with my glasses on than an artist at work. From what I could see, I don’t think it will be another “epic fail;” but I already appropriately titled it, Love is Blind.

I am getting ready for my last Art on the Lawn Festival next week. I don’t expect my booth to be stuffed, but it is evident that I need a few new, smaller scale paintings. Yesterday morning, I sat at the kitchen table, glasses and coffee mug at the side of my notebook and I did some brainstorming, a little doodling and just staring out the window towards the beauty of Mom’s garden.

Painting is often like taking a picture–you can never fully re-capture the moment, though you can try. I wasn’t re-capturing any vivid memory photo from yesterday, but I was trying to keep in the mood, as if the brushstrokes were the quietness of the stillness I experienced when I just sat there staring out the window. I had quite the day today and found myself saying, “Good grief!”more times than a, “Thank you, Lord.” In just a little while, it will be the start of a new day…a new invitation to just sit a while and enjoy the stillness. Up until yesterday, I have not taken the time to do this–and now its all I want to do, even though I am dragging and so behind on other things. I need a better balance, but like Mom’s garden, I will not get very far in life without the proper nutrients. And so before I take to weeding and watering areas in my life, I think I might just sit. Just for a while.

If I could just sit with You a while, if You could just hold me
Nothing could touch me though I’m wounded, though I die
If I could just sit with You a while, I need You to hold me
Moment by moment, ’till forever passes by…

*words by Mercy Me.

2 Comments

Filed under Adjusting to NF2, Paintings, Uncategorized

July 30, 2014 · 10:01 pm

At my Worst

“You know, this is blog worthy,” I say as I pause to catch my breath. Dad turns around and gives a little laugh. I had just made it down the three stairs from the top of the patio to the gravel; I just had to cross it to get to the grass and venture in darkness towards the flaming fire-pit where we were getting ready to roast marshmallows. If you have ever seen me walking grass, even in daylight, you understand how difficult this situation turns out to be–however, that night I had my Dad walking in front holding my walker to keep it steady and my Uncle was walking close behind me, for in the event I fell backwards.

I continue my mumbling, “Yep. Someone should be video-taping this and then post it on Youtube as one of those ‘inspiring’ stories that goes viral.” At this point I have to stop, because I am laughing at the thought of it and continue, “The headline would read, ‘Watch what happens when a girl, who can’t walk on grass in the dark, goes to sit with her family by the fire-pit.” It actually would be a boring video, because that’s all I did–just sit. Mom roasted three marshmallows for me and then I just enjoyed watching everyone else; can’t lip-read in the dark…and lip-reading all weekend was difficult as it was already otherwise.

Over the past two weekends, we have had two family reunions: the one in which my parents and I made the road trip to Michigan had been planned for months; the one this past weekend was a minor spontaneous overlapping of my Mom’s siblings. Lots of aunts and uncles and cousin times, too much food, games and tourist attractions, relaxation and all the different combinations of simple family pictures–both reunions have special memories–even if they were just short gatherings.

I get emotional when I know that I have to face family and friends, in which I have not seen in quite some time; pictures and blog posts are only a fragment of the physical me…real life is always the real picture. I have had a lot of these encounters this summer–before Colorado, before my friends came for the NF Walk, before the Michigan reunion, and when the other relatives came. It will probably happen before I see my doctors in a few weeks; I haven’t seen them since February…a lot has changed since then. I don’t know why this happens–it just does. The thoughts of how I used to be, and the knowledge of where my body is now…overwhelms and frustrates me at times. And I have to honestly say, right now, I am at my worst. And that didn’t faze my family at all–to them, it was just the real me. Just Mel.

Of course, I am not saying that they ignored it all–no, they were my helping hands and we even talked openly about different health issues. And like all my other encounters this summer, my family showed that where there is love…there is no fear. My thoughts of their initial reactions disappeared and were completely forgotten the moment the first “hello” and hugs were given. That’s what made the weekends so special.

Jesus sees me at my worst…even more than just the physical. He sees my thoughts and intentions, the words on my tongue before they’re spoken and my heart. He sees the real me. And He loves me despite it all. That’s not a fearful or overwhelming thought: it’s unfathamable.

10 Comments

Filed under Adjusting to NF2, Family Times, Funny Stories, Uncategorized

July 26, 2014 · 4:20 pm

New and Interesting Titles

If you thought I was going to be discussing books, please raise your hand. It’s okay…I cannot see it anyway. 🙂 (haha).

Although I have been reading some pretty good books as of late, the titles I am about to share are the rest of my most recent painting endeavor. I normally do not add titles to my work unless I think of a very creative one to fit; however, there are times when the title inspires the painting…in this instance, it was so:

DSCN3719 Simplicity

There are other times when I think of a song title and search the lyrics. Most often times, this pertains to hymns. I love painting with or in thought of these–every stanza, there is a deep beauty. For this painting, I was looking out the kitchen window at my Mom’s blooming, growing garden. She may not have roses, but I don’t mind. 🙂

DSCN3716 Morning Roses (In the Garden by C. Austin Miles)

 I have slacked off on painting. My excuse would be “busyness” or placing other priorities above it (like finger poking emails) or just not asking for help down into the basement. Not that slacking on painting is a bad thing–it’s not a job or anything, but when I painted these small canvases this week, I forgot how much joy it brings..how much I un-dwell of myself and instead think of others. And quite honestly, I forgot how frustratingly fun it is to make a mess! (And clean it.) 🙂

So here’s to more paintings to come…one canvas at a time.

PS–For those interested, I will be participating in my last year at the Art On the Lawn Festival: August 9, 2014, 10a.m. to 5p.m. Mills Lawn School, Yellow Springs.

4 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

July 24, 2014 · 6:22 pm

Epic Fail

Last week, the day before we were scheduled to leave for a one day reunion in upper Michigan that I found myself with extra time on my hands. My bag was already packed, repacked and triple checked to ensure I had all my necessities covered for the road trip. Prior to packing, I had started a few new paintings. Hoping to finish them before the weekend, I asked Mom to help me down to the basement; once settled in my art studio corner, I let my creativity flow in acrylic colors, textures and future beads that would need to be attached once the paint dried.

On my final 8×10 canvas, however, I had no intent for mixed media and went to work applying the mustard yellow background color. When it was just about dry, I started the circle motions in white that would be the base color for the bundle of flowers to come next. My choice of floral arrangement could not be worse as my colors started blending together to form a chocolate latte tone and my circles were all the more enlarging. I ended stopping the circles and covered the whole canvas with this created color instead. Frustrated and out of no-where I titled it, Epic Fail.
. . .
I finished Epic Fail today. On the outer surface, you would never have known it is a twice painted canvas. That’s the beauty of second chances. There are areas in my life that are beginning to surface; epic fails that are needing a change from within, from the heart. And I can change, because of forgiveness. I have already been reborn, a second chance. That’s mercy and grace.
DSCN3715 Epic Fail.

3 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

July 23, 2014 · 10:23 pm

What Light Can Do

I attended a small Christian college in the suburbs of Denver. Colorado Christian University only took one city block in Lakewood near the intersection of two main roads, Alameda and Wadsworth–which is also a trendy shopping, eating, apartment living area called Bel Mar. Positioned between having Downtown to the East and mountains to the West, CCU could not be more perfectly placed.

CCU required undergrad students to have a certain number of ministry hours before they graduated. First semester of freshman year, I attended the ministry fair. There were so many opportunities to work with, but that semester I had all afternoon and evening classes (yes, no 8am’s for me! But it only lasted that one semester.) Feeling discouraged, I near the end of the tables and come to a board that reads, “Westside.” A girl greeted me and gives me an introduction on the ministry. There was going to be a volunteer meeting later that week, at a time I could attend. I took the information papers, but don’t really remember reading them. I was just excited that this could be a possibility–Thursday evenings was the only time I had available and Westside ran a street church on that evening.

At the volunteer meeting, I met AB. She had a slide show of pictures with stories of certain kids. The neighborhood was to the west of Downtown Denver; AB has been living among these kids and their families for years–her love for serving them and sharing hope with them was captivating. For me, growing up in a small farm town and living in the country, everything about this ministry was completely out of my experience and comfort zone. Yet, I knew in my heart that this was it–my ministry.

I didn’t just get my ministry hours. I got a family. When God started piecing together the future plans for the move to Ohio, I had been with the ministry (properly called The Third Story) for almost six years. Change is hard and it was the kids, AB, street church, other volunteers that I had become close friends with that I wanted to cling to and not let go. Knowing that I would no longer be physically part of the family tore my heart. AB was supportive and encouraging; she still is. The older kids seemed to understand; change is so constant for them, I think they handled it better than myself.

I could talk for hours about street church–but the stories of just the kids wouldn’t be complete. Street church would not be complete nor AB…not without the dog tales! (pun somewhat intended.) When I first started, I heard of Jack. Jack is a legend–he would bark like he was singing when we sang songs before the Bible story; you quickly learned not to leave your plate near the table edge as he could swipe it clean in one bite; and he was master protector, yet so gentle. The kids would lean against him at story time and always said his name in the prayer requests. About a year and a half into the ministry, AB adopted another dog. Still in her puppy years, she brought so much enthusiasm to Jack’s older years. Although a rough transition beginning,these two were a perfect combination.

DSCN5613

This is Sofia. My first memory of her was when I was returning from getting kids on my neighborhood pick-up route. My partner and I led our kids down to the basement area (that AB rents) of a church where weekly club takes place. If you’re expecting peace and quiet, club would not be your dream destination. Between the kids’ conversations and giggling, games and never-ending jump rope, Jack barking, AB yelling for everyone’s attention…it sounds like chaos, but it actually runs smoothly considering everything.

Everything including Sofia. On that first evening she came to street church, I walk in to see the younger boys running in huge circles across the room with a puppy chasing them. The next time I see her, she was at home chasing the freshly falling snowflakes with the cone around her neck. After recovering from her eye surgery, Sofia started attending club again. One eye didn’t stop her momentum; in fact, we had to have kids keep their personal Nerf footballs at home, because Sofia would tear it to nothing otherwise.

The only change I noticed in Sofia was how light affected her attention. When we would sit in the kitchen for our before-getting-kids meeting to discuss the evening agenda and such, Sofia usually sat in someone’s lap. However, she was obsessed with the sunlight that came in from the small window to the linoleum floor. She would watch for any movement in the shadow parts that would cause the lighted parts to shimmer. More like a cat motion, she would pounce at the light, wagging her tail and could not be easily swayed to leave the room until the kids arrived.

I have been thinking of Sofia lately. Not that I am obsessed with light on the floor or only have one eye, but my eyes are causing me to have a different view of and in light. I am not one for the dark–even before my balance problems, I never have been one to like dimly lit rooms. In light, I can see more fully. However, with my right eye now n a constant greyly dark veil, my vision is dimly lit. And now, light…especially the color white…is almost illuminated. Light now causes me to squint. It makes lip-reading more challenging and working at this computer even more slow as I consistently have to refocus my eye. The strangest part is how it affects color otherwise. Some tones look different in shade when I test blink my eyes.

My eyes are playing the controlling game. My left eye, once the weak, now wants to lead. My right eye now acts like my lazy eye. I tell myself, “Focus,” all day as if it is a comforting word when my eye goes in a haze. I am trying to be patient, give the medicine time, and not become obsessed with fear–the future will shimmer with changing shadows, and it’s out of my control. Then I am reminded: my future is Light…and when my eyes are truly healed, there will be no grey, no shadows, no blur, no refocusing, no swollen optic nerves, no more fear of darkness.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

“Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus.” Hymn.

 

 

 

 

2 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized