I've lost my vision.

I can't see out of my left eye.  I have been struggling with it for over a year and I'm sick of it.  It began a year ago in June when I was misdiagnosed as having had Shingles in my eye.  When diagnosed, I dutifully began steroid drops and hoped for the best.  After a week of no progress and worsening vision, I sought out a second opinion. By that time a scar had formed on my cornea and I had bigger issues.  Six bottles of drops later, multiple trips to various eye doctors, and numerous cries out to God, it finally began to heal and vision began to come back to my eye last October. 

Things were better, for a while, but sometimes you don't know you've taken the first step back into a room until you are already inside.  I've crossed the threshold and I'm back into the foggy world of limited vision in my left eye.  It had been creeping up on me for a few months.  I knew things were distorted and when looking into a large crowd it was getting increasingly difficult to see clearly.  I hate to admit weakness and ask for help.  I begrudgingly knew I needed to take the first step back onto the path of healing. 

It's arrogant of me to call it a step really.  You see my optometrist is a great friend who knows me well and is familiar with my stall tactics.  Here is how my cry for help went....I was standing on the curb at church when she was picking her son up from youth group.  I leaned into her car window and made small talk, briefly got caught up on the status of her week, and casually mentioned in a very loose fashion, at the tail end of our conversation, that "I'm having trouble seeing."  Ugh...the cat was out of the bag.

I'm not really sure what I expected her to say, perhaps an invite to call the office?  Maybe offer some free vision advice?  Who knows where my head was...you see I rarely let my guard down and ask for help and I was immediately furious at myself for letting it trickle out.  As I pulled in the garage at home and dropped my bags on the counter, my phone began to buzz.  The text message that I read offered me two appointment options for the next day.  Really?? Whose optometrist texts her at 9:45pm with appointment times.  Thankfully, mine does. 
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After more stalling, I responded and trudged into her office the next day.  She met me at the door with a huge hug and smile.  She never questioned my slow response to calling the office and she didn't chastise me for waiting so long.  She loved me and told me how glad she was that I was there.  I left the office with new prescriptions, a plan of attack and another appointment card for next week.  I have no doubt that if I fail to make the appointment or am even bold enough (or dumb enough) to cancel it, she will show up at my house.  She has me figured out and my excuses about not having time or putting others first won't fly with her.

My dear eye doctor's grace-filled approach is a "skin on" example of the way God greets us upon return to Him.  If you've been wandering or are in denial about your need for Him, don't deny Him based on a fear that He will chastise you or turn you away.  He longs to help heal your heart and love you   As I begin the uphill climb of adding 12 drops a day to my cloudy eye, I know that God offers soul healing that promises so much more than 20/20 vision.  Open your eyes to Him today.

More than a squeak...

 

Our dryer is broken.  It's been making an awful sound for several months now.  It began with an occasional squeak and I pretended I didn't hear it. Then it got louder.  It moved from a little whine to a squeal that could be heard downstairs and in the basement...probably even in the garage.
I pretended it wasn't that loud.  I turned up the music and sat on the patio and kept using it.  Now it's getting worse.  The squeaking has stopped and it's starting to damage our clothes.  We're noticing little holes in T-shirts and shorts and things are getting stuck in the rim just inside the dryer door.  It's time for a new dryer.

I have other squeaks in my life too.  I can let relationships drift and slide off my radar.  My house can get messier and more cluttered by the day, no matter how many cleaning ideas I 'pin' to make the tasks easier to tackle.  I can get lazy with my parenting.  What used to be unacceptable slowly creeps in and my passivity is perceived as acceptance.  What I accept in moderation they accept in excess.

Is there hope for change for me at 40-years-old or am I destined to continue my catapult into this 'blind eye' approach to living? 

In Tim Kimmel's book, Grace Based Parenting, he asserts that as parents our job is to act as a lighthouse for our kids to keep shining the light of Christ into their lives to help them avoid hitting the rocks.  Who doesn't love the image of a serene coastline with a stately lighthouse? It makes sense and is nostalgic. 

I can be a light, I am actually pretty good at it.  When the light is shining I can rise to the occasion.  Put me in a crisis and I'll be standing strong and steady.  My problem is not with the light, my issue is with the darkness.  It's in those 45 seconds of darkness when the light is busy shining in the other direction that I lose my way.

I can time it perfectly to take full advantage of the darkness too.  I have an uncanny sense of knowing exactly how to make the shadows work in my favor.  Avoid confrontation?  I'm a pro.  Pretend my shadowy vision in my left eye is really no big deal? Easy.  Circumvent a fight with my son by not insisting he clean his room? Done.  Lift the boundaries on movie viewing and allow a few PG-13 movies to keep the peace with my tween.  You bet.

When will the compromise end?  I even have special phrases to squelch the doubt that may creep into my head.  My favorite is "I have to pick my battles!" whew - that's better - suddenly I can justify anything that feels uncomfortable or hard.

The reality is...I need to suck it up.
Maybe you do to? The critical part of the light in the lighthouse is the magnifying glass.  Without the glass the light would have very little refraction and it would simply be a spinning bulb.  The life saving ability of the light is the power of the light to shine over wide distances coupled with the speed of the bulb to turn. 

When I shrink back in the darkness I have no power.  No power to shine for God.  No power to parent with grace and not fear. No power to care for my health or my house or my relationships.
I must be able to stand firm in the light and be agile enough to spin quickly to illuminate the shadows.

It won't be easy, but recognizing my habits is the first step.  I think I'll start by shopping for a new dryer.

Double take

 

 

The car visor is constantly down and the mirror cover is constantly open.  The main level of my house is a maze of mirrors and glass reflections that she must glance at before she can climb the stairs. The camera feature on my phone is a mobile mirror that can collect 30-40 "selfies" on a short car ride to the grocery store.  The temptation to gaze at her reflection is a constant indulgence my tween can't resist!

After rolling my eyes to my mom at Abby's behavior, that I perceived as nauseatingly vain, she made a wise observation (no surprise!). My mom had spent several days with Abby and I and she sensed that I was growing weary of this tween-induced-narcissism that can sometimes propel her like a robot.

After reassuring me that Abby would move beyond this stage, she gave me some great insight.  She suggested that perhaps Abby wasn't holding hostage any self-reflection she could find to merely ogle at herself in the name of vanity.  Her suggestion was that in her rapidly changing world, perhaps she needs to gaze in the mirror to keep track of who she is on a daily (hourly!) basis.  Maybe the hair flip and the duck face lips that she can't help posing for, are her tether to remind her of who she used to be and who she is rapidly becoming.  Life is changing so quickly for her and maybe glancing in the mirror is her way of making sure her outward appearance matches who she feels she is on the inside.  Kind of a tween "self-soothing" mechanism.

As her over-protective mom, maybe an occasional glance in the mirror would serve me well too,  As I age and climb beyond 40, I want to look at my reflection less and less - the wrinkles and the sun damage are staring back at me and I feel frustrated by the changes I see.  Just as Abby gazes longingly at herself to stay on guard for any new shadow or freckle, perhaps I need to catch my own gaze and stare past the brown-eyed reflection into the wisdom I have amassed as a mom.

I need to look beyond the laugh lines and the stray eyebrows and gather my confidence as I ascend 'tween mountain' as Abby's Sherpa.  I refuse to be propelled by fear and anxiety.  The world wants me to believe that life is out of control, busy is better, chaos is normal.  Magazines and media want me to ride the wave of parenting and 'hold on tight' and just try to weather the storm. 

God tells me something different.  He whispers "you are perfectly matched with your children - I entrusted them to you for a reason" - He reminds me that He is with me and He adores my kids even more than their Dad and I do.  He reminds me to reflect His love to them.

So as summer gets underway, I'll pull out the Windex and shine up the mirrors for Abby's reassurance as she checks in daily (hourly!) on her evolving reflection...and I'll shine up my vanity mirror too and try to remember not to stop short of occasionally looking at my reflection too.

Have you gained weight?

This time of year is so emotional, isn't it?  The end of one school year and the promise of new beginnings.  Graduations and weddings...it doesn't take much to melt a mom into a puddle. 

As I watch Abby anxiously await all that Jr. High promises her, I am so thrilled to have Ethan and Libby each content to trail two years behind her.  They give me a chance to relive all of the experiences that flew by so quickly with our oldest child. 

As I talk to the precious teen girls in my life who are spreading their wings and testing their boundaries, I hear a common pet peeve that they all claim leaves them feeling wounded.
'I hate when my mom asks me why I can't be the sweet little girl I used to be...' 

When we ask our daughters 'what happened to my sweet little girl?' they are hearing 'I don't like who you are becoming...'  Adults have the perspective of the passage of time - we can pull images from our memory pendeflex that can elicit tears of joy or pain in an instant.  Teens don't have that vast perspective - they live in the present.  Many times they can't see beyond today which is why friend drama erupts so frequently and their moods morph on a dime. When we ask open ended questions that paint their past appearance/behavior/interests as masterpieces and downplay their current status, they feel rejected.

Without a doubt, in the right setting, they enjoy a trip down memory lane discussing their toddler days or grade school achievements, but be careful not to frame those days as better than today.

Have you ever had a girlfriend compliment you on a weight loss?  It's a great feeling...until you start pondering it.  Did they think I was fat before?  How big was I...did everyone think I was huge? We would never dream of asking a friend, "Why don't you put that 20lbs you just lost back on?"  It would be immediately offensive and it could insinuate that you thought all of their weight loss effort was a waste of time.   Perhaps you would feel better about yourself if your friend put their weight back on?

When wistfully we ask teens why they can't be who they used to be, they are offended.  The process they are going through to figure out who they are is painful, confusing and scary.  For our intuitive daughters (& sons!) our misty eyed question about their past may bring up feelings of fear of your disapproval of who they have become.  Are we wondering about who they used to be because it was easier for us to parent them then than it is now?  Don't allow your insecurity about your ability to parent them now become their issue.

If you feel the desire to ruffle your tween/teens hair and ask where your little kiddo has gone, resist and consider how it would feel if someone asked you where the heavier, chubbier version of you has gone?  Not a good feeling - compliment their progress and save the walk down memory lane for the wedding toasts, don't drag it out every time your teen makes a choice you disagree with. 

And remember...keep the Kleenex handy...you'll need them for more than seasonal allergies in the weeks ahead.

Dear 16-year-old-me;

I've missed you.  It's been so long since you crossed my mind.  You've worked so hard to stay on the right track.  Even when it felt lonely and boring, you steered clear of the drug and alcohol scene.  Good friends are making such a difference in your life.  You could be kinder though.  Not all of your friends are heading to prom or getting keys to their own car.  Think about how they feel when you drone on about the little things in life that frustrate you.  You can be nauseatingly narcissistic sometimes - sorry to be so blunt, but it's true.

You are so pretty and I wish you didn't spend so much time thinking you are fat.  You are not...but you do have big hair.  It's probably impossible for you to believe, but your obsession with VAVOOM hairspray will run out and you will give up your big hair two years into college when a sappy chic flick called, Ghost, hits the movie theatres.  You'll bravely get a short Demi Moore cut that you still wear 20+ years later.  Oh honey, it's so much easier than using the curling iron and that teasing technique that you obsess over every morning.

You know that really nice football player that always asks to borrow paper in your typing class?  He likes you - in fact he'll be your prom date this year.  He's really sweet and he has strong morals.  Pay attention to his study habits and his work ethic.  You could learn a thing or two.  Stay awake when he drives you home from the 24 hour student council dance marathon next month.  He'll be bold and surprise you with your first French kiss....don't worry, he won't care about your bad breath.

Enjoy your big circle of friends - the group lunches, weekend movie nights and endless orders of cheese sticks from Pizza Man, but don't forget to protect your heart.  You'll choose to keep a long distance relationship going for your last two years of high school and all through college.  The weekends when you reconnect will be great and you'll amass a beautiful box of sentimental letters, but you'll have lonely times when you see other girls holding hands, flirting and living in the moment and you'll wonder if it's worth it, it is.  God is writing your love story - even without you knowing it!

Study harder in school - don't wait until the last minute for everything - this bad habit you've developed will plague you forever.  You know that English teacher that you can't get enough of, Mrs. Walker?  Soak in every word she says...be present in her class.  Her ramblings about Murray State University will set the course for your future and you will become a fellow MSU alumni too.   She believes in you - be receptive to her comments and critiques of your writing.  Embrace your love for writing and drama no matter what others may think.  You are really good at both.

Stop worrying about having to take care of your parents  - it's not your job.  You may be an only child, but they are the adults.  I know you get scared that they might divorce - they will in 5 years - but it's not your responsibility to make them happy.  I know you were embarrassed when your history teacher pulled you out of class to speak with the school counselor, but she cared so much about you.  Your grades were dropping and she couldn't watch you implode.  I know you were contemplating suicide when you said subtle things like "I just want off of this ride."    Therapy sessions were so healthy for you and were such a safe place for you to vent.  Counseling isn't for the weak - its an investment in your soul that will vaccinate your emotional health from future disease.

Speaking of safety, you really need to work on your driving.  Thank goodness the automatic transmission vs. the stick shift that your dad taught you to drive on has become a thing of the past.
You can't handle being pulled over by the small town cops anymore for rolling through stop signs.
You've gotten lucky the last few times to pull away with a warning, your luck will run out.  I promise a ticket is in your future.  Take it easy on the "parking" at the end of every date too.  I know you have your "spot" and you love to roll down the windows in the summer and listen to Richard Marx and Breathe, but you are playing with fire - too much passion with too few boundaries.  You will be a virgin on your wedding night, but only by the skin of your teeth.  A little self-control goes a long way.

So back to that guy who borrowed typing paper?  The one who you arranged your trips through the hallways between classes just to catch a glimpse of a few days a week?  He will ask you to marry him in three years and the month after you graduate from college you'll pledge a lifetime of love to him.
You have so much to look forward to and I don't want to spoil it. 

I've loved walking in step arm in arm with you again.  I really like you and the person you're becoming.  Dig deep and be confident in who you are...she's wonderful.  You may not think God is a big deal to you right now, but He will shape everything about your future.  Those long conversations you will have in the months to come with your future husband about your ideas of a woman's role in the church and which denomination you'll raise your future children in?  Those conversations are worth having and offer such a valuable perspective into the heart of the man you will marry and his desire to build a life with you.  He adores you and will keep you afloat on the days when you want to hold your breath and sink.  You will do the same for him, so don't feel too hurt about my comment at the start of this letter about your narcissism....you grow out of it.

Press on sweetie - take a look around and thank those who are pouring into you, there are so many mentors who will come your way.  Hug your parents and look for someone younger to pour into.  God's economy is not about soaking up all of His blessings like a sponge, it's about squeezing them into others. 

Much love to you....

Your future self...

PS...wear sunscreen...even if it's just on your face!

In sickness and in health

Big news hit my small Southern Illinois town when I was just 5-years-old.  McDonald's came to town!  I remember my Mom and I watching from afar as the giant golden arches dangled down and locked into its rooftop perch with the assistance of a huge crane positioned hundreds of feet above our blue Pontiac.  It was a big year, the fast food giant had landed, I began half day kindergarten and I experienced my first migraine.   

It was not totally unexpected, with a known family history that snakes through my mom, my uncle, my maternal grandfather, my great grandma and climbs on up the family tree from there, it was somewhat inevitable.  My migraine that day set the course for what I would commonly come to expect with my headaches throughout my tweens, teens and early twenties.  There would always be  light, sound and smell sensitivity and more often than not, there would be vomiting.  The throbbing would many times elicit tears and excruciating pain that would sideline me for at least one to two days.  My mom would always tuck me in a bed with crisp cold sheets, pull the shades to make my room as dark as a cave, and sit gingerly on the side of the bed stroking my forehead.  At times I couldn't stand even the slight pressure of her hand on my face and instead she would spend the evening running back and forth to the bathroom with steaming hot cloths for my forehead.

The comfort my mom would give was exclusive to her style.  She was the only one who knew how to do it 'just right' - her presence elicited an immediate calmness that instantly would lower my heart rate and anxiety.  If a migraine would strike me at school and she was called away from her teaching job to pick me up, the instant she walked into the school nurses office, her presence would make me feel better.  I knew I was her only focus and she would immediately rush to my side and place her cool hand on my forehead, an unspoken gesture signaling that she understood my pain.

When Scott and I began dating, he learned quickly that migraine headaches were something that plagued me.  As our relationship deepened and he came to see my many vulnerabilities, he began to witness how debilitating the headaches could be.  He saw a few times in high school how lovingly my mom would care for me and it became a model for how he would stand beside me in the years to come. 

The miracle of headache treatment came just before we got married in the form of a muscular injection.  When it first became available, I was very hesitant to give myself the Imitrex shot when I was in the midst of a full attack - as much as I would want relief, I would be shaky and nauseous.  Scott would step in and give me the injection and I would begin to feel relief in less than 30 minutes.  Gone were the days of hiding in the darkness with steaming cloths on my head. The injection offered a chance to redeem a day that might have begun with throbbing temples.  It was a new beginning and the medicines have only improved through the years. 

When each of our children were born I prayed that they would not be plagued with the headaches that have sent me to bed more times than I like to admit.  We've been so lucky to have dodged the migraines for all three kids, until last week.  I knew that things were not quite right with Abby when she came home from school.  She complained of a headache and before long she was curled up in her bed complaining that she felt nauseous and wanted everything pitch dark.  I was taken back to my first migraine years earlier and I began doing a quick math problem in my head.  The years that I have left to show Abby how she deserves to be taken care of when she is sick are fewer than the years she still has at home with me.

What a sobering thought.  My time with her under my roof is running out.  The awareness jolted me out of my desire to curl up on the couch with an hour of HGTV and led me to do what I'd experienced my mom doing years before.  I caressed her forehead and held her close.  I rubbed her back and reminded her how much I loved her.  I held with her until she fell asleep and I realized that one of the things I treasure most about my husband is his ability to care for me "in sickness and in health" just like my mom used to.  If I never show Abby what it's like to be cared for physically in sickness how will she ever be able to live out those vows in her marriage? 

This week I got more blood test results back on my liver disease.  As much as I hope and pray that it will go away, it hasn't.  Over the past four and a half years that I've had this diagnosis the calls from the nurse with the "numbers" have had the power to dictate the outcome of my days.  A great report can  leave me joyful and relieved and a report of further decline of my liver function can send me into a downward spiral.  The more I understand this about myself the better I'm able to control it.  However, the one constant that I never question is that despite the fluctuation of numbers, I will have a husband standing beside me through it all....and I feel blessed to be able to show my daughter how to love in sickness and in health so that she can understand how to give and receive it in her marriage someday.

Road Closed

The road closed sign should have been the tip off.  It was clearly positioned on the center line on the two lane highway and the blowing snow was howling all around the car.  With my dad at the wheel I felt comfortable knowing he was in charge....for the most part.  Until he drove past the sign and entered the snow covered road.  Our trip was on a schedule and to 'lose time' would have been a hassle.  We crept along with my dad at the wheel and my mom by his side.  I watched from the backseat as it got harder and harder to see.  Finally, my dad, I guess in an effort to clear the windshield, rolled down his window.  Snow blasted into the backseat and quickly coated his headrest.  He immediately rolled up the window and was able to turn around and follow the ruts in the road to get back to where we began.  He obviously made a wrong turn when he pressed beyond the road closed sign.

If every decision we made was marked with a street sign, discernment would be so much easier.  How great would it be if next time you were faced with a parenting decision if you could imagine your decision and immediately visualize either a red 'stop' light or a green 'go' light.  The decisions would be clearly marked on a green path that signified that all of your choices were good ones and every time you veered off, audible signals would warn you to turn back.  What a great plan....if we were robots.

I spent five years working at a large insurance company in my late twenties.  My office was in a very new building with large open hallways and we had an automated mail machine.  Each floor had a mail machine and it followed a magnetic track under the carpet on the floor.   It saved lots of payroll dollars by covering miles of territory in a methodical way that required less manpower....except when it got stuck.  Under normal circumstances it was well known among employees that we weren't to touch the mail mobile.  It could be derailed if anyone got in its way or tried to move it.  However, the machine was not without faults and as cool as it was, it didn't have a brain.  Frequently you would pass by the robot and it would be beeping, an audible SOS to surrounding administrative assistants that they needed to intervene.

I spend a lot of time talking to my teen girls about their "lines" - the boundaries that they are following both physically and mentally.  That's not a topic applicable for teens alone.  What are your limits?  Do you follow a magnetic path under the carpet only veering from the track until you hit a wall?  What is acceptable in your life?  Do you allow your kids to watch any movie they ask to see unless it's rated "R" thinking the Motion Picture Association ratings are enough to shield your kids from things they shouldn't see?  Are you okay with your husband looking at porn as long as he doesn't take it any further than looking?  Is it a big deal that you have to get drunk every weekend to de-stress?  What are your lines?  If you have no boundaries, nothing in your world beckoning you to turn back and reevaluate your priorities, you will self-destruct. 

A car careening into a snow storm with no visibility is headed for destruction.  A life lived with no awareness of danger ahead is headed for trouble with multiple casualties.  Are you blindly pushing against a Road Closed sign in your life?  If so, back up before you are blinded by the jolt of harsh reality or worse, begin to implode. God is waiting.