It's a National Law ...

I love teaching 7th grade. There's just something ... a combination of child and zoo animal with hormonal issues? ... about them. They make me laugh -- which is important; and I have found I can make them laugh too. And lest you think we just sit around smoking cigars, writing comedy routines and rolling in the floor, while we're doing all this laughing -- we are also learning. It isn't just funny for the sake of being funny ... it's funny that is derived from a comment someone makes, someone else's response, or misunderstanding, or facial expression.

Example: One year I had to be out every few weeks to attend workshops by the District. After three absences one student pointed out, in class, "Mrs. Murphree, you sure have been gone a lot." To which I replied, with no facial expression, "Yes, and if you've noticed my absences coincide with the full moon. I think it's time to share with you that I am a werewolf." What I expected was a room of students laughing and saying I'm crazy ... what I got was silent stares .... and one brave soul in the back of the room...."ReALLY?" ....

It's a good thing I was stunned enough to keep my thoughts to myself, but another student saved me by spinning around in her seat and setting him straight. "Are you KIDDING! She's being SARCASTIC! Gaaaa!" I appreciated her appreciation of my appreciation of sarcasm. And for the record, contrary to the belief of many educators, I feel there iS a place for (lighthearted) sarcasm in the classroom. I teach language arts ... how will these students be future successful authors, playwrites, newspaper moguls, street entertainers without the sarcasm foundation laid in their 7th grade class when Mrs. Murphree has them totally convinced it is a National Law enacted in the 1800's that all schools must serve hamburgers on Friday. They are destined for failure if not informed about the Amendments added throughout the years allowing the addition of cheese, or the controversial legal battles over the substitution of chicken for beef.

In the olden days (the 1970's) we could purchase a Coca-Cola from the machine right outside the cafeteria to have with our requisite hamburger meal, french fries (really fried), and a big peanut butter cookie). I'm planning to write up a legal-looking document which states that all schools are required by law to serve hamburgers and cheeseburgers on Fridays forevermore, as long as we both shall live amen. Schools cited for nonconformist behavior may be charged a hefty fine which will result in budget cuts, leading to a full diet of gruel for all students and staff.

Oh, by the way -- I usually bring my own lunch on Friday. None of this applies to me. :)

But now I see

Monday morning I got the phone call that my Granny had passed away. She was 91 years old and more than ready to go, her body and mind tired. I teared up, but smiled at the same time because I thought about all the family and friends she was seeing - and I imagined her and my Papa together again. I know the Bible says there is no marriage in heaven ... still, I know they are together, no matter the 'relationship' in their heavenly state.

I really didn't have any sorrowful reaction throughout the day. The girls and I looked through some photo albums and all found a special picture of her to put on our facebook pages. Of course looking at pictures resulted in some amusing memories of times spent with Granny & Papa and we laughed a lot as we talked about them. They always cherished time with family and were joyful, loving, fun people.

Last night after everybody had gone to bed, I remembered the first time I went to sit with Granny when she was in the hospital in Tyler several months ago. It was when I truly accepted that she was not going to 'live' ... not because they told us she was dying ... but because I acknowledged that her life was over even if all her reasons for being in the hospital could be taken care of. She was not ever going to pick peaches or work in her garden, run to the store, hem a dress, bake biscuits, walk to the mailbox or hold another great-great-grandchild. Those things were her life. I'd known for a long time that she wasn't able to do much - but she was here. I’m not naïve, but the full comprehension that being 'here' isn't ‘living’ became unquestionable when I saw her frailness up close in a hospital gown with tubes and times of incoherence. I thought about how much she would hate that someone had to feed her, her hair wasn't fixed, and she had 'cracklins' in her eyes. That afternoon as I sat with her while she slept, I cried – she wouldn’t have cared and I knew she couldn’t see me.

Last night I also remembered something my uncle told me one day when we saw each other at the hospital ... She was asleep. He had his hand on her shoulder and bent down to kiss her. She opened her eyes a second and smiled, then nodded back off. He stood back up and for some reason said, "She never got to go get her new glasses. She was so excited about those glasses."

When that seemingly trivial piece of a conversation came to mind late last night ... I cried. I really cried. Since Monday my sisters and I have talked and remembered some fun times with our grandparents; I’ve talked to Mom a few times in the last few days about plans and all … but since Granny died, there have been no tears … until I think about that pair of glasses sitting on a shelf at a doctor's office - waiting for her. She was excited about them and never got to use them here – and when I think of that, I cry.

While preparing to visit with family and go through the funeral service tomorrow, I have wondered about the glasses story – why that affected me. I’m still not exactly sure – but tonight as we left the funeral home and I looked back one last time at Granny – I heard the song in my head … the song that has been her favorite hymn for many, many years. I know it doesn’t matter that she didn’t get the glasses. She doesn’t need them now. Her vision is perfect.

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

Heads or Tails

Everybody wants to win. Not just in sports or board games or business deals -- but in the stuff of life like health, relationships, jobs ...

I'm not talking about good guy/bad guy people. (We do think that way -- even if we shouldn't -- that some people deserve to have their prayers answered and some ... well, not so much) -- I'm talking about where all involved are seeking God's plan & will -- a bunch of Christian people praying for opposing outcomes. Somebody gets a yes, and somebody gets a no.

Example: I pray for my kids to be safe when they're driving (and for the people around them to not be idiots). But ... if another mother somewhere else is praying the same thing, and our kids end up having a tragic wreck, then one of us had our prayer answered -- and one didn't. A winner... a loser? One would say, "God answered my prayer - my child is alive", and the other would say, "I prayed for his safety and this is what happened."

I picked up a book to read on vacation - light fiction by a Christian author. It's a relationship story and the people in the book are all Christians. They pray, read their Bible, apply verses to every situation they must deal with, and they make an effort to be a light around non-Christians. Previously, two of the characters were in a relationship but circumstances changed that and now they've moved on to other phases in their lives. They are pursuing careers in different parts of the country, they both have met someone else (key point: the 'someone elses' are also Christians) but even while falling in love with the new person they do not forget their former relationship - nor one another. In spite of the past, they 'know' God has brought them to this place for a reason and believe that His will involves the new love they have found. The verse used throughout the story is Jeremiah 29:11 -- "I know the plans ..."

Ok -- the OTHER people -- they are also Christians -- they are truly in love with the respective main characters of the book. They also have prayed for God to show them the person who will be their 'forever'. Like I said, it's light fiction - I expect I know how it ends -- I'm just not sure how it will get there. But I do know that two people will 'win' and two people will 'lose'. And usually when we consider these things, we only think about the protagonists. We're cheering them on -- "yea....hang in there ... keep praying ... love conquers all ..."

Not me; I'm reading this going - Hey -- but these two secondary characters (who are not acquainted)... they're Christians too! They've prayed for the same things - they are honoring God in their choices, opening their hearts to a person they trust, considering futures ...that aren't going to happen. They're both going to end up getting dumped and hurt - but the book will have a 'happy ending'...?

I know - it's fiction, but it could be real life. So ... who wins and who loses? If the book was written from the perspective of the second set of characters, it would be a stinky book -- they would be raised in good church-going families, pray and read their Bibles and meet these wonderful like-minded partners believing that this was God answering their prayers ... then they'd get their hearts broken while the other two rode off into the sunset to live happily ever after.

Yeah, you can say that they will go on to find happiness or whatever, but the point is ... someone is saying "Yea Me! God answered my prayers" and everybody is going, "That's so awesome how God answers prayers" (the winner) -- and in the meantime, the other person who wanted the job, or the car, or the girl ... they're thinking, "What the hay...? I've been told to pray. I trusted that this was the plan. God did not answer my prayer!" (the loser).

There is no conclusion to this drivel. Just observations that I will not add now because they sound trite and irreverent ... the sorts of things I ponder when I see good people repeatedly disappointed and made to feel like God isn't listening...like they're the loser.

~jm

Home

I know why they call it the circle of life....it's definitely not a flat line.

This summer has been composed of various 'stage of life' events/moments that just prove this is a bumpy ride from start to finish; and while there may be a few scenic pullovers, at some point you have to load back up in the car and get back on the road again. And eventually, the trip ends and you go home.

* Our sweet Molly is engaged to be married to her precious boyfriend of over three years. There is not one unhappy person about this proposal! Our family loves Brad like he is already one of our own. We love his family! He is committed, loving, honest, determined, hard-working, and fun .... he and Molly complement one another well, and I have no doubt they will be wonderful partners for life.

* Meghan's life-long dream of going to Africa has come true! In fact, she is there now - into her second week of mission work in Zambia which will be followed by a trip to Victoria Falls. There hasn't been a lot of communication, but the few reports we've heard have been good. I know she is having the adventure of a lifetime and is learning what God wants her to learn while she's in a place she has always wanted to visit. People have asked if I'm 'ok' ... Strangely, and uncharacteristically, I am very ok. I haven't been nervous at all about her traveling - or even about any decisions she may make based on this experience - whether they be to travel (mission-related or otherwise), or to mark this trip off her 'things I want to do' list and move on to the next goal.

* Hudson Wyatt Hamilton (not due until July) was born on May 29th. He has spent his short little life being cared for in the hospital NICU - gaining weight, his little body developing, and receiving all the attention he needs. Chelsey and Kenny are such good parents and have had a rough month dealing with the uncertainty that accompanies a child in the hospital. Hudson will go home soon and rest in his own little bed without tubes and monitors. He is beautiful and has gained to almost six pounds in that many weeks. Another reason for our family to be thankful and joyful!

* Granny Parsons has also spent most of the summer in and out of the hospital - and the nursing home. A variety of issues make this necessary, but the bottom line is - her little body is just tired. She enjoys company; and she talks, but it's hard to understand her; and sometimes she will do or say something that makes her seem like the person she was when I was a little girl. Those moments make me smile - but in a sad way because I know they're the past, and that in the near future the memories and pictures are what I'll have instead of the Granny I love so much.

It's an emotional portrayal of beginnings and endings...with Meghan and Molly's current status somewhere in the middle of the spectrum; one family member starting out in life, and the other whose full life is fading. Granny and Hudson are both in the hospital because of their ages and the necessity of medical assistance for their survival, but there is such a contrast to where they 'are' ....

One is the future of our family - one is our heritage.

For one, I made a little quilt - the other taught me how to quilt.

One gains weight daily - the other grows thin.

I love to hold one - I loved being held by the other.

One has yet to make his first memory -

the other holds a lifetime of memories in her heart.

To one I say, "Hang on little man. You'll be home soon!"

To the other I whisper, "Let go when you're ready Granny. You'll be home soon."

jlbm 7.11.11

Perspective

My job is to make students think. But the best teaching days are the days they make me think.

She's not an outgoing girl .. not one of those kids that makes their presence known at every opportunity. She's in a small class - all girls - loud, drama-filled 7th grade girls. I'm sure she gets overlooked in other classes because she doesn't demand attention - negative or otherwise. She's pretty -- not in a way that 7th grade boys will take notice of ... but pretty, like you know she has the potential to be beautiful when she is older. The smile is genuine, but almost retreats before it appears which makes her seem even shyer than she actually is. When she came back and stood by the desk before tardy bell, all she said was, "hi", and "have you had a good day?" I told her yes, it had been an ok day and asked about hers. She'd had an 'ok' day as well. It was more the body language than the audible words...I sensed there was something else -- maybe she needed to ask about a grade, or to go to the restroom... I stood, gave her a smile, and picked up the papers I would pass out when the tardy bell rang in another minute. She took a step back to let me by, then turned and asked, "Mrs. Murphree, would you like to read my paper for Language Arts?" I don't have her for that subject, but told her I would love to read her paper. She retrieved it from her notebook and handed it to me, already in its protective sleeve.

The writing prompt was "a time you learned to do something". The story was a twelve-year old girl's memory of learning to ride her bicycle. "I pedaled and held on. I tried to keep looking forward to watch where I was going, but I had to turn around and check. When I looked, I saw my mom had let go and I was riding all by myself!"

I've been thinking about perspective in the last few days. I see it one way -- and justifiably so. You see it another way because of how it affects you. Nobody is really 'wrong' -- we're all just standing at different points looking at the same thing -- but because of where we are our views are different.

Because she was given the assignment to write about something she had learned to do, the student recalled a moment from several years ago and described it on paper. She may not have thought about taking those first few yards of road by herself in a long time, but the prompt helped her recall it. She shared the details of that significant ride in a way that made me experience the freedom she felt ... but my perspective was different. I saw it from the other side. I could only empathize with the woman who had let go of the back of the bike.

jm
2.15.11

Mrs. Clean

There are several types of cleaning.
Day to day Cleaning (hahahaha)
Saturday Cleaning (optional if you get a better offer - like a root canal)
Company Cleaning (frantic and may involve hiding things)
Holiday Cleaning (you just want everything nice so the decorations can be seen)

There may be others (like I'd know...), but the most productive is Angry Cleaning.

Angry Cleaning is performed with an energy like no other cleaning. Power behind the sponge. A roll of paper towels and a full bottle of Fantastic. Not a speck of dust or one smear left on the countertops.

Angry Cleaning gets the windowsills scraped, and the lint filter rinsed. It frees the microwave of the 'whatever' splatter that's been there for two weeks, eliminates the layers of dust on the ceiling fan blades, and rewards one with the extra change collected behind chair cushions (if one is willing to reach into the dog hair and popcorn kernels to retrieve it).

The force behind Angry Cleaning is ... well, anger. Not irritation, or annoyance, or worry ... it's flat out bein' mad. The object of the anger isn't present, which is probably to their advantage. I wouldn't think a Brillo pad to the jugular could be pleasant. Every argument is perfectly presented. If you were an attorney and used the comments conjured during Angry Cleaning for your closing statement -- there would be a unanimous jury vote and the criminal would hang -- that very afternoon. There are no come-backs, no interruptions, no discourse. It's all you -- and what you want to say -- while you savagely use a toothpick dipped in bleach to get to the stuff that has collected at the base of the kitchen faucet.

I'm trying to make some sort of Biblical or spiritual application here, but the only one I can come up with is Jesus in the Temple; and to compare my swiping toilets with a vengeance to Jesus driving out money changers - well that feels blasphemous. Jesus' anger was justified, and to my knowledge no money-changer was fatally harmed during the filming of that event. I may or may not be justified in my anger, but at least I'm not acting on it in a way that destroys anything - except for the soggy celery in the bottom of the fridge.

jm1/29/11

Stuff on my fridge

I'm not even sure I believe in 'coincidence', but this is freakily 'coincidental'. I found something I'd written a long time ago that is even more relevant than it was when I wrote it. Seriously - it was a LONG time ago. However, if I post it now it will appear that I'm addressing current issues and a) I'm not; b) --there is no b). I just didn't want to end with a).

So, instead of posting that very relevant piece, I'll be weasling out on the blog tonight. In a way.....

My refrigerator is going to topple over one day from the weight of all the magnets holding photographs and messages and sweet mementos. There are a few things on there that have been around for as long as the dust UNDER the refrigerator (that's a joke - we've moved a couple times and didn't bring the dust along with us, so the dust is about 13 years younger than the items I'm thinking of).

One thing is a list of Twelve Prayers for Your Children --- a prayer for each month of the year. I got it when the girls were very little - from a church bulletin I think.

One is an article by Erma Bombeck that used to make me cry, then I went through a phase where it made me laugh maniacally, now it makes me cry again. One of those 'kids growing up' things about how the dirty socks won't be on the stairs one day, and you won't have to wipe popsicle off the cabinet drawers, ... yada yada ... then it ends with something like "one day you'll say, 'Why don't you grow up?'..and realize they did." That stupid Erma.

Another is a yellowed Gary Larson cartoon I cut out of a newspaper ... a lady looking out the window watching a group of kids run by wearing little coonskin caps and holding stick guns. "Look Fred," she says to her husband who is looking out the other window, "the kids are playing cowboys and indians." 'Fred' has a bewildered look on his face because out his window, he sees actual savages with bows and arrows and war paint ... chasing the children.
Yes, I know -- another example of my warped mind. Sorry -- I thought it was funny.

There are a few intelligent things on the fridge too ... and some pictures of people I want to remember to pray for, and pictures of kids we've known for a long time who are now young adults, but for some reason I still have their 7th grade football picture... There are current photos too, but the old ones are usually the ones I stare at while getting a drink of water, or trying to remember what I originally came to the refrigerator for ... (five minutes later: oh yeah...butter).

Moving on .... I saw this yesterday on the fridge - had sort of been pushed to the back of the right side to make room for more important things .... like Molly's report card from 10th grade (?) ... she's out of school now (?) ... I have no idea ...(?)

I started reading it for the zillionth time -- and thought, "wow". No... I mean, "WOW!"

The paper itself is torn in a couple of places, and has something (ketchup?) on one corner, it's very wrinkled, and I have no idea who originally sent it to me. I printed it from an e-mail, so I know I got it in 1999.

God Has an Answer for Everything
for all the negative things we have to say to ourselves,
God has a positive answer

You say: "It's impossible"
God says: All things are possible (Luke 18:27)


You say: "I'm too tired"
God says: I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28-30)

You say: "Nobody really loves me"
God says: I love you (John 3:16 & John 13:34)

You say: "I can't go on"
God says: My grace is sufficient (II Corinthians 12:9 & Psalm91:15)

You say: "I can't figure things out"
God says: I will direct your steps (Proverbs 3:5-6)

You say: "I can't do it"
God says: You can do all things (Philippians 4:13)

You say: "I'm not able"
God says: I am able (II Corinthians 9:8)

You say: "It's not worth it"
God says: It will be worth it (Romans 8:28)

You say: "I can't forgive myself"
God says: I FORGIVE YOU (I John 1:9 & Romans 8:1)

You say: "I can't manage"
God says: I will supply all your needs (Philippians 4:19)

You say: "I'm afraid"
God says: I have not given you a spirit of fear (II Timothy 1:7)

You say: "I'm always worried and frustrated"
God says: Cast all your care on ME (I Peter 5:7)

You say: "I don't have enough faith"
God says: I have given everyone a measure of faith (Romans 12:3)

You say: "I'm not smart enough"
God says: I give you wisdom (I Corinthians 1:30)

You say: "I feel all alone"
God says: I will never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13:5)

~jm~

Empty Spaces

The difference between a dent, and a hole:

A hole perforates and leaves an ugly opening. A hole is the absence of something...a void. It either has to be repaired by pulling the sides in and stitching, welding, or patching (in which case, the actual hole still there, it just isn't visible). A hole may require filling with another substance. A hole in the wall gets a smear of spackle. A hole in the ground is filled with dirt or concrete.

A dent is not a perforation. It is not an opening in a solid object. It is an impression, a "dip", an indentation (thus the abbreviated ' dent') in a smooth surface. It may be a big dent, or a tiny one, but it is a mar and depending on the angle you see it, may give the appearance of something missing.

Whether a dent, or a hole - there is a space left that needs to be filled. Here's the deal. To fix a hole, part of the original surface has been removed and will have to be repaired using something different than was was there to start with. To fix a dent, you use the exact thing that was formerly in the smooth surface. It is just returned - pressed back to where it was before. It was never really gone, just out of place.

jm1/23/2011

Be still...

"Be still and know that I am God." I don't know where that came from -- yes, it's from the Psalms, I meant I'm not sure why it keeps lolling around in my thoughts today --. It's very hard for me to 'be still'. When I can't be still, I'm omitting the most important part of the command ... "know that I am God".

Maybe it's a question, "Do you believe I AM God? Then why are you trying to get in the way?"
Maybe it's a consolation, "It's ok, shhhh.... I'm God and I'm taking care of it."
Maybe it's a reprimand, "Go sit still and I'll prove to you (even though I don't have to) that I am God."

I know I can't take away God's power. No matter what I do or don't do, He is in control. If I really believe that, then I'll relax and watch Him work ... in whatever way He sees fit.

Praying tonight for changed hearts and minds, healed relationships, forgotten hurts, and freedom from the past - for new joy, fresh perspective, and lasting promises.

One to the fifth

1-11-11

I don't really have anything to say ... I just wanted to be able to look back and see that I'd written something on 1-11-11 because I'll never see another one of those in my life. Yes, I know that next year there will be a 12-12-12 ... but who knows if I'll even be here? For that matter ... word on the street is we're all outta here in 2012. Just sayin ....

A friend posted as her facebook status today that it was a 'unique day - a day for new beginnings' along with the verse from Isaiah that says "Don't dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!" (I think it's Isaiah 43:18, but I'm not taking time to check that right this minute).

I wonder why we assign specific days or numbers to new 'resolve'. I like that people do it -- I like that I can say, "well, it's now 1-11-11 ... anything I didn't set as a goal on 1-1-11 can be set today", but shouldn't every day be a day to start new? If I mess up today I ought not wait until 3-3-33 or whatever, to make a positive change.

I'm going to try harder to realize that every day is a special day even if it isn't numerically 'unique'. I'm going to try harder to let yesterday be yesterday and to look forward to tomorrow and the tomorrows after that without fear or dread. And mostly, I'm going to try harder to make today the best it can be...for me and everybody around me. And as for the 'word on the street' ... bring it. I'm ready. :)

jm
1-11-11

Focus Dailies

I have not 'blogged' in awhile (by definition, it's a computer task) - but I have written. You know ... that thing you do with pen and paper -- ideally at the end of the day -- in a spiral notebook that stays beside your bed -- the one that has doodles and scriptures and lyrics to songs -- quotes and the occasional dark smear that was once an angry outburst, but for which you were ashamed later so you tried to erase it, or wrote over it with a sharpie .... Everybody has one of these, right? If not, don't tell me -- I don't want to appear odd.

Just because I haven't written 'bloggishly' ... I have still had things I want to write about. Some I have, some I haven't -- some ideas are recurring and haven't been put on paper, but they weigh on my mind and my heart. There are things now that are too fresh to write about -- it doesn't mean I'm ignoring them ... I'm just pondering and praying. I know God is working - It just hurts to watch the process.

I have - for all intents and purposes - worn glasses since I was nine. I say that because they were prescribed when I was nine -- and in fourth grade. I wore them as I left the house in the morning, and when I got off the school bus I put them back on. However, .... well if you don't understand the mind of a nine-year-old, you are probably not mature enough to be reading this. By the age of ten the vision problems were severe enough that I was forced to wear the glasses on a daily basis. I hated them. H.A.T.E.D them. I wore glasses all through school - even into my freshman year at college. At nineteen I got contact lenses and have worn them since. The versions have changed over the years (so has my vision ... ahem ...), but the assistance has been necessary since I was nine.

The contacts I wear now are called "Focus Dailies". O that t'were true....
What a lovely thought -- focus -- new every day. At night, I take out these pieces of plastic that have lain on my eyeballs all day -- and I throw them away. They have helped me clearly see the things I needed to see. They have provided me the vision to see things I sometimes wish I hadn't. They are clouded, by the end of the day, with dust and pollen and whatever else it is that gets in your eyes and makes those little specks and blobs that settle in the corners. But, every night before I go to bed, I take those contacts out and I toss them in the trash. The next morning I put in a new pair of 'Focus Dailies' ... and I see fresh and clear all over again - without the yuck of the day before to make my vision murky and blurry.

Some mornings when I put in a contact, it doesn't feel 'right'. Usually, when this happens, I take the lens out, hold it up on my finger, and check to see if it was put in 'upside down'. Contacts are funny that way. You have to put them in with the sides turned up - sort of like a bowl. If the sides go up and dip out, there's a problem. I have no idea why. That's just the way it is. If you are having trouble understanding what I'm saying, you have probably never worn contacts. You can stick with this vague comparison, or move on...your choice.

So, a couple weeks ago, I was putting in my contacts and one of them felt scratchy. I waited a few minutes thinking it was just morning and my eyes needed to adjust, then decided it was worth checking. I took the contact out, held it on my finger with just the center of the 'bowl' touching, and took a look. Hmmm... I couldn't tell if it was a bowl with a lip, or a straight sided bowl. Is that right? It looks right. Well... then again ... Dang it .... I don't know! The only way to tell was to turn the darn thing the other way. So I did. There it was -- the bit of a dip to the outside (honestly, it's indiscernible -- I have no idea how people who already can't see are supposed to be able to find that!). Nonetheless -- I saw that the lens was indeed the right way to begin with, so I flipped it back over -- the way it was to start with, replaced it on my eye -- and -- all good.

How many times has that happened to me? A lot. You can't wear contacts the number of years I have and not gone through that at least three times a week. Lens feels scratchy, remove it from eye, check it for the right shape, and put it back in eye. Simple - and very un-thought-provoking. Until that day a couple weeks ago....

Wow -- I had to see that wrong before I could tell it was right. I couldn't tell, until I had flipped the silly lens over, that it was already in the right position to start with.

Have to see it wrong before I see it right ... well, I put the lens back in my eye, but the thought stuck in my head all that day (and obviously has remained there ever since - poor thing). I saw that same concept applied with my students' work. Four answer choices... If you don't know the right one, find the wrong ones. It will at least narrow down your options.

If you've never met me, or read previous writing, you may not know that worry and doubt and 'what if' are my Goliath. I'm telling you that now. (For confirmation please see post number ... well, that would probably be all of them.) So, it seems that when I get a little mind-jolting revelation from something ordinary, it pertains to the problem areas in my spiritual life.

Maybe God wants me to see it wrong sometimes. Maybe hurting and crying and worrying are the scratchy lens. I don't like how it feels. It's not pleasant. I'll take it out -- check it again -- no, it's right. It's all good. It's the way God wants it to be ... it was just unpleasant for awhile. Like my vision, life's not perfect. If I could see, I wouldn't need the lenses to start with. If my life was perfect, I would think I never needed God.

I do. I absolutely require those contacts to function. Without them I would be blind. I need God. Even when things don't seem to be going right, are awkward, unhappy, painful ... it's still good. It's in place, going the right direction ... for awhile, it just isn't comfortable.

My 'Focus Dailies' are the best solution for my physical impairment. If I put them in wrong, that's my fault. They can only serve their purpose when situated correctly. If I don't put them in at all, well I'm probably going to stumble and squint - things will most definitely not be clear. You make the analogy. I have to go take out my contacts.
JM-1.10.11