Bird's Eye View

“Who stands fast? Only the man whose final standard is not his reason, his principles, his conscience, his freedom, or his virtue, but who is ready to sacrifice all this when he is called to obedient and responsible action in faith and in exclusive allegiance to God—the responsible man, who tries to make his whole life an answer to the question and call of God.”

 –Dietrich Bonhoeffer 

This week I’ve sensed a common theme of the need to stand firm in the faith in spite of pressures, fears, and struggles that tempt us to abandon the convictions and beliefs we hold in our hearts. Through my reading of Bonhoeffer's life and my reflections of Christ's example of suffering that he has left for us, I have been faced with the challenge to take God more seriously. Lest the saints cringe to see one’s perseverance in the faith diminish into the looming darkness, one must possess an undeniable responsibility to God’s call, stretching far beyond one’s self and suffering, that makes the muddy trek through hell on earth worth every inch. 

This dove, who has made her nest in the tree next to our porch, inspired me along the lines of this theme of perseverance and resilience, and so I've written her a short poem to conclude my post for this week. Please try to enjoy my attempt at poetry....

52 Week Project 2012 ~ Week 21

Innocent, pure, flawless Dove,

All too often have I underestimated your resilience. 

To my surprise, 

you remain steadfast to your duty: 

protecting your baby dove eggs

 even though blinded by the flashes of my camera and 

frightened by the dangerous blades of Daddy's trimmers. 

You know that I see you, and I know that you see me.

But this I must confess:

You have become the subject of my photo for the week

--I hope that's okay--

Not just for your beauty, though, 

for with you, there lies more beneath your fine feathers.

It is the strong will and dedication with which you respond to your call, 

which bids me to reevaluate my simple judgment on your kind. 

Your resistance to flight in the face of fear has inspired me, 

innocent, pure, flawless Dove,

to try to do the same.

Not just another flower picture

52 Week Project 2012 ~ 20/52
Some Good-Looking Thorns

In case anyone was wondering, it's a tad difficult to focus on the thorns of a rose bush when its decadent flowers constantly fight for your attention. Anyhow, that's what I tried to do in this picture for Week 20 of my 52 Week Project. Although I had to edit it a lot to achieve what I had in mind---some good-looking thorns---the entire process ironically encompasses the change of heart that I've experienced this past week.

I must start by explaining, in brief, the news we received at my doctor's appointment on Tuesday afternoon....

For the most part, we were very encouraged by the news: all the parasites, bacteria, and viruses are gone! I still have some "imprints" or scars on my cells from the Lyme bacteria, which has caused a slight autoimmune response, but after a month or so of taking a homeopathic remedy, I should be all clear. So that's very good news!  Praise be to God, the Great Physician who mends all our wounds and heals all our diseases!

With this great news, we had to ask the tough question about the possibility of permanent damage since I went undiagnosed and mistreated for so long and still have headaches everyday. The doctor said that sometimes patients have "dead spots" in their brain, which are supposedly permanent. I asked if those were technically called hypo-perfusions, because that's what showed up on my brain scan a while back when we first started thinking I had Lyme. He said yes, that they're the same. He continued to say, however, that even though the dead spots are lost now, the brain can re-route itself and work around those areas. The brain is pretty incredible.

But still, that's the part of the appointment that made it hard for me to fully rejoice over the miracle of healing. I thought, Wow, so I'm pretty much healthy, but because of this stupid brain damage I'll probably still feel pain, neuro symptoms, and memory impairment the rest of my life. That's just great.

After all I've experienced over the past three years, I most certainly cried over and still grieve the damage and loss, but I do not doubt in the least the sufficiency of God's grace, power, and strength in my weakness. Perhaps the dead spots will serve as a good reminder of how God has sustained and will continue to sustain me. I mean, it's a miracle that I've come this far already, and even with the permanent brain damage that remains, I know that God can still work miracles in and through me. What else could better attest to his great power and faithfulness? I can't help but to deeply identify, once again, with Paul when he writes about his vision and the thorn in 2 Corinthians 12:


To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. ” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (verses 7-10)

I honestly believe that God has purposefully made me weak, with regard to my own strength, in order to make me strong through the strength that comes from Him alone. God has healed me, but I think to keep me from becoming conceited---from boasting about my intelligence, achievements, and honors---he has chosen to allow some weakness and damage to remain in my brain. However, when I can boast gladly about that, though, Christ's power rests on me. I know this to be true. I've felt it. This amazing truth of Christ's power within me has transformed my mind in ways that no medicine or therapy ever could. Though outwardly and physically we are all wasting away, inwardly and spiritually I am being renewed day by day through the power of the Holy Spirit who helps me fix my eyes on the unseen, eternal aspects of life. Because in the big scheme of things, God knows that even permanent brain damage is really only temporary. One day He will restore and redeem everything. All will be made new. The dead will be raised and the dead spots will be brought back to life in the glorious presence of our risen Savior, Jesus Christ. Now that is some really Good News! Amen??

Coming back to where I started, with the idea of the thorn, I'm learning more than ever before that all good things must be protected. Just as rose thorns are a protective adaptation to keep animals from destroying the entire rosebush, maybe my brain damage will guard against conceit and pride, which seek to attack the good fruit, lessons learned, and spiritual maturity that the past three years of trial and pain have produced in me.  After all, nothing exists without purpose. Perhaps this is just it.

The Tell-Tale Glow

I need you more than anyone darling, 

You know that I have from the start. 

52 Week Project 2012 ~ Week 19
A Special Dedication to My Most Special Mom

When we were young, my sisters and I always used to pick buttercups from the backyard, hold them up under our chins, and find out if we liked butter---a yellow glow would be the tell-tale sign. Of course, we all loved butter. But for whatever reason, who knows why, some days we apparently did not like butter, according to the buttercup test anyways.

Even though this test doesn't reliably determine the truth of the matter when it comes to butter-liking, it does make me think about how much I really do love my Mom. Just like the buttercup test, some days she can look at me and see that I do love her a lot. But other times, for whatever reason, the tell-tale glow just doesn't appear under my chin.

The everyday tests that shorten our fuses, our ropes, our tempers--or whatever you'd like to call them--make for unreliable tests that can't always determine the truth of the matter when it comes to Mommy-loving. However, I don't think that handing our Moms a well-written Hallmark card and a bouquet of flowers with some candy gives us passing grades either. I've always believed that love is an action word. The words "I love you" only possess deep meaning when acts of love, or service, accompany them.

That's what I've learned from my Mom, because acts of service are definitely her main love language. With that in mind, I'd like to publicly state, before whoever reads this blog, that for this Mother's Day, I commit to helping my mom weed her gardens on any morning of her choosing over the next week.

         Mom, 

              I will get on my hands and knees to show you this year how much I love and care for you. You will know by the dirt under my fingernails, the pile of weeds in the wheelbarrow, and the open space in your gardens; the bug bites I'll acquire, the girly screams you'll hear upon my encounter of creepy crawlers, and the mere sight of me waking up and doing work in the morning. You just tell me when, but we have to do it together. Okay? Happy Mother's Day Mom! I love you with all my heart. Just look for the glow under my chin, Buttercup. It's true. May you feel honored and blessed on this special day and remember that even on the days when I fail the test, my love for you will never wilt or fade. I love you mom! You're the best!! 

Your dearest & most darling daughter,                  

Elisabeth  :)

              

Happy Mother's Day to the rest of you Moms out there! May your days be filled with blessings upon blessings. In the midst of the celebration, try not to overlook the blessings in disguise! 

The "Home Stretch"

52 Week Project~Week 18

It's amazing how a little bit of pressure...aka Finals Week...can make us college students really grow to value the small things in life that we often fail to fully enjoy:

A Lottie breakfast date/cram sesh before an 8 am exam. A surprise cup of tea from a friend. Sharing flashcards. A warm smile after way too many hours spent studying late in the library. Late night pancakes. Free pancakes! Dogs in the Union?? Finishing a final early. Learning how to construct a "buff chick" wrap...and then making a mess trying to figure out how to eat it. Listening to Needtobreathe on my ipod walking around campus. A light sun shower after a steamy Friday afternoon. Getting mail. Going to Baker's. Catching up with friends. Cookies, ice cream, & pizza, yumm. Singing in the shower together. Sharing vitamins and cold medicine. Walking barefoot. Random dance parties. Weird dreams. And last but not least, playing with chalk in the middle of the basketball court...trying to complete our masterpiece before the storm came to wash it away.

And that, my friends, is my photo of Week 18.

SEE?? It is amazing how a little bit of pressure can help us grow to enjoy the small things in life. Between the overload of stress and lack of sleep during this past week, I would've thought that I'd have been in a bad mood. But I've actually noticed way more positives, especially over the past few days.

To give you an example, in addition to the awesome list and picture above, on Wednesday evening, before I had to stop studying and just go back to my room to get some sleep, I pulled off a book from the shelf behind me. I happened to be sitting in the Theology section of the library in the cubbies that I usually never go to. But during my last study break, I opened up to a random page in a chapter entitled "The Gift of Surrender" and read the following:

"Jacob wrestles all night long with no hope of really winning. At the end of the night, he is still in the struggle but ready finally to give it up without needing to triumph. He can just be what he is. It is enough, he understands, simply to persist rather than to need to overcome. To persist is to live in hope. To insist on overcoming the enemy, on the other hand, only dooms us to perpetual contention over something that may not have perpetual value. Not to us, not to anyone... Surrender is the moment in which we realize that it is time to become someone new. Surrender is not about giving up; it is about moving on.” ~ Joan Chittister, Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope (p. 59)

At the time, in the midst of all the undue stress that I place on myself with doing well on finals, that was exactly what I needed to hear in order to survive this last "home stretch" (as everyone keeps reminding me) of my freshman year of college.

I can just be what I am. It is enough for me to simply persist rather than to need to overcome the struggle that lies before me. To insist on being perfect or getting straight A's, even if it means missing out on the experience of fully enjoying the little things of college life, dooms me to "perpetual contention over something that may not have perpetual value."

Persistance, I'm learning, does not require absolute perfection. All it requires is a little bit (or a lot a bit) of pressure that forces us to learn how to enjoy the small things in life. Because without them, surrender is pointless. After all, "to persist is to live in hope," and we must have an idea of what we're hoping for.

"Surrender is the moment in which we realize 

that it is time to become someone new. 

Surrender is not about giving up; 

it is about moving on."