Over the past three or four years, I could tell that my
hearing aids were growing weak. I was struggling to
hear my family members, but I thought, the hearing aids
still work, so I'll just hang on to them until they quit
working altogether. And, it happened. One hearing aid
quit working right while we were in the middle of packing
and moving out of our house. We move out of our house,
move into another, and get settled in.
So, I go to the the audiologist, take the audio-gram.
Order hearing aids, molds, and go on my marry way
thinking that I'll be able to hear just fine once I get
the new hearing aids. Wrong.
While I'm waiting for my new aids to arrive, I compare
an old audio-gram to the most recent one that I had
taken just a few days earlier. Upon looking at my
test results, I see that something is very wrong.
I consult with someone online, and they confirm my fears.
I have lost 50% more hearing in both ears. Or rather,
I have lost 50% of my capacity to discriminate spoken words.
I now only have a 20% speech threshold in my right ear,
and about a 42% threshold in my left ear. And, that is
in a quiet environment. I have basically gone from being
hard of hearing, to being deaf.
I am in disbelief. How? I'm already hard of hearing, how
could I lose more? I was naive to think that the hearing
that I did have would always stay. It hadn't changed for
nearly 40 years. So, I had no reason to think otherwise.
I began to panic. I began to think about all the folks that
I felt bad for because they had lost their hearing later in life.
I always felt that I was blessed in that way. I have always
been hard of hearing. So, I never had to go through the grief
of losing something that once was a vital part of myself.
Until now. Now, I worried. Wondering what I was going to do.
How would I homeschool the kids? How does my husband
feel about me losing more hearing? Will it get worse?
Will I be isolated even more?
I began to research CI's. (Cochlear Implants)
After just an hour or so, I could see that it wasn't the
right choice for me. The idea of having my ear cut away
from my head, then re-sewn over a metal object, made me
feel just a bit queasy. I also wasn't too keen with the idea
of having two holes drilled into my skull. Add to that,
the fact that cell phones can interfere with the CI's. And if I
ever need an MRI (and I have in the past), it will be an auditory
hell! So, while they may be great for some folks, they are just
not my kind of thing.
So, where does that leave me? Well, I can feel sorry for myself.
Yes, I'm scared. It is likely that I'll lose even more in the future.
But, I don't have to let it ruin my life. I can be pro-active about it.
What does that mean? It means that before, I had toyed with the
idea of teaching my children ASL, and now, I order some ASL
(American Sign Language) books. It means that it will have to
be a family affair to learn sign language. It means, that in order
to continue homeschooling my children, we'll need to make
a few adjustments. It also means that we'll have to learn
more patience, and be more loving and caring. That is what
being pro-active looks like.
Will the journey get harder? Very likely. But, I'll just have
to be more humble, ask for extra help, surround myself
with more friends and family (this is my biggest challenge),
and try harder at life. And, a sense of humor. Anything is
easier to handle with a sense of humor!
And, truth be told, I am still very happy! I still have my
family, and they love me. And, I know God has a plan for me.
For this. I trust Him because I know that He loves me too.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Monday, November 18, 2013
If Church Came To Life
I'm deaf/hard of hearing.
I usually go to church on Sunday with my husband and children.
We go to Catholic church.
When we go, I cannot understand the priest.
So, my eyes tend to wander, as does my mind.
I love things that stimulate my eyes.
I love color, light, and texture.
And, today, while sitting in church, I began to think about how wonderful
it would be if church could really come to life.
Wouldn't it be incredible if, when the organ played, each note would
produce a different color? The deeper the note, the deeper the hue of
the color that it produced. The softest notes would be pastel, and almost
invisible. The colors would float down softly and eventually vanish like fog.
And, the pictures in stained glass. Wouldn't it be marvelous if they would
come alive and move in the windows? They would glitter with the sun
shining through them as they moved. We could watch the Last Supper
come to life, and see Jesus going up to Heaven.
And the priest. I wish that he had a special microphone that would let the words
he spoke be spelled out from his lips in mid-air. Every single word would
come tumbling out of his mouth in various bold colors. And, it wouldn't
matter if you could hear him or not, because the words would be visible
and linger in the air.
I wish that when it was time to say, "Peace be with you", and shake hands
with my neighbors in the pews, that when our hands came together, there
was an instant connection, an electric charge, something that would help
us instantly understand each other better.
I wish that when we touched the holy water and put it to our head, chest,
and shoulders to make the sign of the cross, that it would immediately
cleanse away our fears, worries, grief, pain, and the sin we've been
harboring in our hearts. I wish those few drops of water could truly
make our hearts clean.
I imagine that if church could be like this, more people would come
a whole lot more often. I know I would. On earth we only have
ordinary church with ordinary services. But, I know that someday,
when I go Home, I'll witness something that is most extraordinary!
I usually go to church on Sunday with my husband and children.
We go to Catholic church.
When we go, I cannot understand the priest.
So, my eyes tend to wander, as does my mind.
I love things that stimulate my eyes.
I love color, light, and texture.
And, today, while sitting in church, I began to think about how wonderful
it would be if church could really come to life.
Wouldn't it be incredible if, when the organ played, each note would
produce a different color? The deeper the note, the deeper the hue of
the color that it produced. The softest notes would be pastel, and almost
invisible. The colors would float down softly and eventually vanish like fog.
And, the pictures in stained glass. Wouldn't it be marvelous if they would
come alive and move in the windows? They would glitter with the sun
shining through them as they moved. We could watch the Last Supper
come to life, and see Jesus going up to Heaven.
And the priest. I wish that he had a special microphone that would let the words
he spoke be spelled out from his lips in mid-air. Every single word would
come tumbling out of his mouth in various bold colors. And, it wouldn't
matter if you could hear him or not, because the words would be visible
and linger in the air.
I wish that when it was time to say, "Peace be with you", and shake hands
with my neighbors in the pews, that when our hands came together, there
was an instant connection, an electric charge, something that would help
us instantly understand each other better.
I wish that when we touched the holy water and put it to our head, chest,
and shoulders to make the sign of the cross, that it would immediately
cleanse away our fears, worries, grief, pain, and the sin we've been
harboring in our hearts. I wish those few drops of water could truly
make our hearts clean.
I imagine that if church could be like this, more people would come
a whole lot more often. I know I would. On earth we only have
ordinary church with ordinary services. But, I know that someday,
when I go Home, I'll witness something that is most extraordinary!
God's Deaf Child
I am a Christian.
I love God. Deeply.
I go to church most Sundays.
And, I don't understand a word.
I'm deaf.
My husband is Catholic, so we go to Catholic church.
They do have what is called a missal, a book that has in it
the Bible verses that will be read that day, and part of
what the priest will discuss. It helps. But not very much.
It is hard to lip read the priest because he stands so far
away. Even from the very front pew, there is too much space
between him and I. And I soon grow tired from reading his lips.
Instead, I sit in church, staring at the ornate statues,
the stations of the cross, and the brightly colored stained
glass windows. Sometimes, I just fold my hands and look at them.
I've tried praying while in church, but I can still hear some noise,
and it is enough to distract me.
I think that my husband and I are both selfish.
I think that he is selfish because he wants me to attend Catholic
church because that is what he has done all of his life. I want to
go someplace that will stimulate my senses since that is how
I learn best. But I know not where to go. Sometimes, he has
suggested that we could go somewhere else, but I know it
wouldn't be permanent, because if it were, it would likely nearly
break his heart.
But, it's like I once told him: Sometimes, for me, going to
church is the equivalent of taking a blind person to a
silent movie. Neither of us will get anything out of it.
And, for both of us, it would be a waste of our time.
I think that I'm selfish because I don't want to attend church
due to lack of understanding, yet Christ died on a cross for me.
Or rather, I do want to attend church, but I'd like to be able
to understand it, be inspired, and be spiritually fed.
So, I see: I don't want to sit in a church for an hour without
gaining anything, but a man died for my own sins. Yeah, there
is no guilt there. But, I also don't want to waste time. I gain
more out of reading my Bible, devotionals, and journaling for
an hour then I do sitting in church for the same amount of time.
I even tried taking my Bible, journal, and devotionals to church
with me and doing them there, but I felt bad. Guilty.
It was like being in history class, but reading a book for
literature class.
This issue has tormented me for the past 16 years.
And, I don't think that I'm any closer to gaining an answer today
then I was then.
Some folks have suggested that I ask the church to be looped
in order to work with my hearing aids. But, that is expensive and
I couldn't ask them to do that when I know we'll be moving again.
Some folks have suggested a sign language interpreter, but there
are none in the churches we've attended.
One person did make a good point. They suggested that I go
in order to set a good example for our children. To show them
that even when it isn't always easy to go to church, we should
still go. This way they learn that going to church is important.
I think this is an excellent point, I just don't know if it's enough
to keep me going back to sit for an hour doing nothing,
gaining nothing.
I think that if I had my way, I'd hold church in my house.
A few other couples (no more then three couples total)
could come to our home, and we could all worship together.
It would be small, personal, up close for easier lip reading,
no echoes, no babies crying in the background, no sense of
frustration from not understanding the message. Just a small
group of people reading the Bible, sharing their thoughts,
helping each other understand the word, and sharing their
love for Christ. I wish it were that easy. But for various
reasons, it will likely never happen. So, I continue on
my search for an answer.
Maybe some day soon, God will open my eyes, and my husband's
eyes, and show us a way to worship Him together. Because in
the end, that's all I want. I want us both to be able to understand,
worship, and to be spiritually fed together.
I love God. Deeply.
I go to church most Sundays.
And, I don't understand a word.
I'm deaf.
My husband is Catholic, so we go to Catholic church.
They do have what is called a missal, a book that has in it
the Bible verses that will be read that day, and part of
what the priest will discuss. It helps. But not very much.
It is hard to lip read the priest because he stands so far
away. Even from the very front pew, there is too much space
between him and I. And I soon grow tired from reading his lips.
Instead, I sit in church, staring at the ornate statues,
the stations of the cross, and the brightly colored stained
glass windows. Sometimes, I just fold my hands and look at them.
I've tried praying while in church, but I can still hear some noise,
and it is enough to distract me.
I think that my husband and I are both selfish.
I think that he is selfish because he wants me to attend Catholic
church because that is what he has done all of his life. I want to
go someplace that will stimulate my senses since that is how
I learn best. But I know not where to go. Sometimes, he has
suggested that we could go somewhere else, but I know it
wouldn't be permanent, because if it were, it would likely nearly
break his heart.
But, it's like I once told him: Sometimes, for me, going to
church is the equivalent of taking a blind person to a
silent movie. Neither of us will get anything out of it.
And, for both of us, it would be a waste of our time.
I think that I'm selfish because I don't want to attend church
due to lack of understanding, yet Christ died on a cross for me.
Or rather, I do want to attend church, but I'd like to be able
to understand it, be inspired, and be spiritually fed.
So, I see: I don't want to sit in a church for an hour without
gaining anything, but a man died for my own sins. Yeah, there
is no guilt there. But, I also don't want to waste time. I gain
more out of reading my Bible, devotionals, and journaling for
an hour then I do sitting in church for the same amount of time.
I even tried taking my Bible, journal, and devotionals to church
with me and doing them there, but I felt bad. Guilty.
It was like being in history class, but reading a book for
literature class.
This issue has tormented me for the past 16 years.
And, I don't think that I'm any closer to gaining an answer today
then I was then.
Some folks have suggested that I ask the church to be looped
in order to work with my hearing aids. But, that is expensive and
I couldn't ask them to do that when I know we'll be moving again.
Some folks have suggested a sign language interpreter, but there
are none in the churches we've attended.
One person did make a good point. They suggested that I go
in order to set a good example for our children. To show them
that even when it isn't always easy to go to church, we should
still go. This way they learn that going to church is important.
I think this is an excellent point, I just don't know if it's enough
to keep me going back to sit for an hour doing nothing,
gaining nothing.
I think that if I had my way, I'd hold church in my house.
A few other couples (no more then three couples total)
could come to our home, and we could all worship together.
It would be small, personal, up close for easier lip reading,
no echoes, no babies crying in the background, no sense of
frustration from not understanding the message. Just a small
group of people reading the Bible, sharing their thoughts,
helping each other understand the word, and sharing their
love for Christ. I wish it were that easy. But for various
reasons, it will likely never happen. So, I continue on
my search for an answer.
Maybe some day soon, God will open my eyes, and my husband's
eyes, and show us a way to worship Him together. Because in
the end, that's all I want. I want us both to be able to understand,
worship, and to be spiritually fed together.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
The Cleansing of Grief
This December will be the 3rd year anniversary of my mom's passing.
(You can read about that journey in my earliest blog posts.)
I have since discovered that grief is a form of cleansing if you
will allow it to do so.
I was arguing with my oldest this morning about the fact that he
is striving for the impossible.......perfection. How it is not attainable.
And, how, when he asks for advice, every answer I give is the wrong answer.
It will always be the wrong answer because he wants the perfect answer.
We went on arguing for about an hour. When it was over, I sat down
and reflected about the exchange of words that had occurred between us.
Nothing serious, just two stubborn people going round in circles.
My son reflects my pride so well that it makes me cringe.
At least that is how it used to be.
Before my mom passed away, I was so filled with passion.....but the
wrong kind. The kind that slowly grows and makes a soul ugly from the
inside out. The kind of passion that will choke a person's spirit.
Pride. Arrogance. Stubbornness. Envy. Haughty. Narrow mindedness.
Argumentative. I had it all. I was it all. And, I wouldn't listen to anyone,
because I thought I already knew it all. Quite frankly, I'm amazed that I
even have a husband who loves me as much as he does.
My heart also contained love, but it was being choked out by all
the other nasty things that grew rampant in my heart.
And, then, my mom died.
A garden. There were a few flowers. Beautiful flowers.
They were called Love, Kindness and Compassion.
But they were far and few between.
The rest was all overrun with weeds.
Big, deep, winding, twisting weeds.
They were called Pride, Arrogance, Stubbornness, Envy,
Bitterness, Anger, and Resentment. They crawled, and snaked
into the garden. They had choked out the good that once
bloomed everywhere.
Then she died. And, everything in the garden died with her.
At least that is how it felt.
And, the garden was stripped bare.
Everything. Gone. Love, Pride, Envy, Arrogance, Stubbornness,
Kindness and Compassion.........all gone. Only dust was left.
The garden was bare. Empty.
My soul had been shaken inside-out. Cleansed. Scrubbed. Put through the wringer.
But, it was clean. Of everything. The grief had done a good job of cleansing me and
leaving me on my knees. But, I was clean. The garden cleared.
Then, new dirt was laid. A second chance.
A fresh start. A chance to plant new seeds. Carefully.
So, as to not plant the same weeds twice.
So, new seeds have been planted. Sowed deep in the fertile ground.
Love. Kindness. Compassion. Patience. More Love. Humility.
Empathy. Servitude. And, still, even more Love.
It's a fresh start. Small. But, new. And, for the first time in ages,
I can look inside myself, inside my heart, and I don't hate what I see.
I don't hate who I see. Not too long ago, I'd look at myself, and I used
to cringe at the sight of myself. I didn't like what I saw, but I didn't
realize that what I saw was caused by who I had become. I was too
full of myself, and too arrogant to see it at the time.
But, not today. Today, I strive for something different. Something better.
I strive for humility and for love. And, I think that when those two things
are achieved, everything else that is good will follow. I know that the weeds
will still crop up. But, I won't let them overrun my heart and take over.
And, I believe that prayer will help with that. Prayer to ask for wisdom
and understanding. To ask for forgiveness. To ask for positive change.
Today, I saw myself reflected back to me through my son.
My hope for him is that he is a faster learner then I. That he will
learn to prune his heart, and not let the weeds choke his spirit as
I had once done. I hope that he won't let this old world contaminate
what is good inside his soul. Won't let them harden his heart.
I hope that he will recognize the changes I've made and imitate
those changes, instead of imitating who I used to be. I pray that
his heart will always be a garden filled with wonderful flowers
and that it will never be choked out by the weeds. And, I hope that
the next time I see my reflection in the words that he speaks,
that I'll love what I see.
"Love suffers long and is kind;
love does not envy;
love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;
does not behave rudely, does not seek its own,
is not provoked, thinks no evil;
does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails."
1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (NKJV)
(You can read about that journey in my earliest blog posts.)
I have since discovered that grief is a form of cleansing if you
will allow it to do so.
I was arguing with my oldest this morning about the fact that he
is striving for the impossible.......perfection. How it is not attainable.
And, how, when he asks for advice, every answer I give is the wrong answer.
It will always be the wrong answer because he wants the perfect answer.
We went on arguing for about an hour. When it was over, I sat down
and reflected about the exchange of words that had occurred between us.
Nothing serious, just two stubborn people going round in circles.
My son reflects my pride so well that it makes me cringe.
At least that is how it used to be.
Before my mom passed away, I was so filled with passion.....but the
wrong kind. The kind that slowly grows and makes a soul ugly from the
inside out. The kind of passion that will choke a person's spirit.
Pride. Arrogance. Stubbornness. Envy. Haughty. Narrow mindedness.
Argumentative. I had it all. I was it all. And, I wouldn't listen to anyone,
because I thought I already knew it all. Quite frankly, I'm amazed that I
even have a husband who loves me as much as he does.
My heart also contained love, but it was being choked out by all
the other nasty things that grew rampant in my heart.
And, then, my mom died.
A garden. There were a few flowers. Beautiful flowers.
They were called Love, Kindness and Compassion.
But they were far and few between.
The rest was all overrun with weeds.
Big, deep, winding, twisting weeds.
They were called Pride, Arrogance, Stubbornness, Envy,
Bitterness, Anger, and Resentment. They crawled, and snaked
into the garden. They had choked out the good that once
bloomed everywhere.
Then she died. And, everything in the garden died with her.
At least that is how it felt.
And, the garden was stripped bare.
Everything. Gone. Love, Pride, Envy, Arrogance, Stubbornness,
Kindness and Compassion.........all gone. Only dust was left.
The garden was bare. Empty.
My soul had been shaken inside-out. Cleansed. Scrubbed. Put through the wringer.
But, it was clean. Of everything. The grief had done a good job of cleansing me and
leaving me on my knees. But, I was clean. The garden cleared.
Then, new dirt was laid. A second chance.
A fresh start. A chance to plant new seeds. Carefully.
So, as to not plant the same weeds twice.
So, new seeds have been planted. Sowed deep in the fertile ground.
Love. Kindness. Compassion. Patience. More Love. Humility.
Empathy. Servitude. And, still, even more Love.
It's a fresh start. Small. But, new. And, for the first time in ages,
I can look inside myself, inside my heart, and I don't hate what I see.
I don't hate who I see. Not too long ago, I'd look at myself, and I used
to cringe at the sight of myself. I didn't like what I saw, but I didn't
realize that what I saw was caused by who I had become. I was too
full of myself, and too arrogant to see it at the time.
But, not today. Today, I strive for something different. Something better.
I strive for humility and for love. And, I think that when those two things
are achieved, everything else that is good will follow. I know that the weeds
will still crop up. But, I won't let them overrun my heart and take over.
And, I believe that prayer will help with that. Prayer to ask for wisdom
and understanding. To ask for forgiveness. To ask for positive change.
Today, I saw myself reflected back to me through my son.
My hope for him is that he is a faster learner then I. That he will
learn to prune his heart, and not let the weeds choke his spirit as
I had once done. I hope that he won't let this old world contaminate
what is good inside his soul. Won't let them harden his heart.
I hope that he will recognize the changes I've made and imitate
those changes, instead of imitating who I used to be. I pray that
his heart will always be a garden filled with wonderful flowers
and that it will never be choked out by the weeds. And, I hope that
the next time I see my reflection in the words that he speaks,
that I'll love what I see.
"Love suffers long and is kind;
love does not envy;
love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;
does not behave rudely, does not seek its own,
is not provoked, thinks no evil;
does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails."
1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (NKJV)
Monday, November 11, 2013
Our Kind of Crazy
"STOP! It's RED!"
"Why are you stopping at a green light?"
"Oh, my gosh! You almost got us killed!"
"Honey, I reminded you of that yesterday........three times."
God is crazy. He has an uncanny sense of humor.
How should I know? Because of my marriage to my husband.
My husband has ADD, and any trip in the car with him is a heart pounding
adventure to say the least. I do try my best to keep my mouth closed while he
is driving. But, sometimes, he still manages to become distracted. SQUIRREL!
I've learned to roll with his ADD more easily now. But, it wasn't always that way.
A few years ago, I would lose my temper....... a lot. I just couldn't understand how
anyone could forget so much stuff so easily. It drove. me. nuts! I thought he was
being insensitive, that he didn't care, that he was playing mind games with me
just to be cruel. But, I know my husband, and that didn't seem right either.
But, then, after homeschooling our second child for a few years,
I began to see the same traits in him that I noticed in my husband.
And, after talking to my husband and asking him a few questions, it then
became quite obvious that he and our son both have ADD/ADHD.
Since figuring this out, I am more patient with them both. And, it is easier
for me to help them from day to day.
Now, as I mentioned above...........God has a crazy sense of humor.
The ADD/ADHD is not funny in itself, nor is any "disability".
But, when you combine the right kind crazy in a loving marriage,
it makes for an interesting family relationship!
And, this is what you get: 2 ADD/ADHD individuals + 1 deaf/HOH person =
CRAZY! So, my husband and son can't remember half of what I tell them,
and I can't hear half of what they tell me! It amazes me that anything gets
accomplished around here! It also amazes me that the only two "normal"
individuals in the family haven't thrown in the towel on us and run away from home.
At least not yet........they're both under the age of 15. Thankfully! (Besides, one
of the "normal" children is asthmatic. So, he has his own set of issues. But, he
is the only one that can remember anything around here......so we need him!)
But, there is a lesson to be learned in all of this: patience.
Our broken-ness has forced us to learn to be more patient with each other.
It has forced us to slow down, to be more loving, kind, and understanding.
To have empathy for one another, and to be more willing to help when
one is struggling.
I now see our family very much like a puzzle. And, we're all one piece of
that puzzle. Therefore, we all need each other, to help each other in order
to complete the puzzle that we call our family.
I wish we didn't have ADD/ADHD, deafness, or asthma in our family,
but if it teaches us to grow in love, and to become better human beings....
to be more like Christ.........then maybe it is worth it. And, maybe,
though it isn't what we would choose, it is a gift to teach us lessons from the Lord.
To teach us to be more like Him.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
"Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:
if either of them falls down,
one can help the other up."
"Why are you stopping at a green light?"
"Oh, my gosh! You almost got us killed!"
"Honey, I reminded you of that yesterday........three times."
God is crazy. He has an uncanny sense of humor.
How should I know? Because of my marriage to my husband.
My husband has ADD, and any trip in the car with him is a heart pounding
adventure to say the least. I do try my best to keep my mouth closed while he
is driving. But, sometimes, he still manages to become distracted. SQUIRREL!
I've learned to roll with his ADD more easily now. But, it wasn't always that way.
A few years ago, I would lose my temper....... a lot. I just couldn't understand how
anyone could forget so much stuff so easily. It drove. me. nuts! I thought he was
being insensitive, that he didn't care, that he was playing mind games with me
just to be cruel. But, I know my husband, and that didn't seem right either.
But, then, after homeschooling our second child for a few years,
I began to see the same traits in him that I noticed in my husband.
And, after talking to my husband and asking him a few questions, it then
became quite obvious that he and our son both have ADD/ADHD.
Since figuring this out, I am more patient with them both. And, it is easier
for me to help them from day to day.
Now, as I mentioned above...........God has a crazy sense of humor.
The ADD/ADHD is not funny in itself, nor is any "disability".
But, when you combine the right kind crazy in a loving marriage,
it makes for an interesting family relationship!
And, this is what you get: 2 ADD/ADHD individuals + 1 deaf/HOH person =
CRAZY! So, my husband and son can't remember half of what I tell them,
and I can't hear half of what they tell me! It amazes me that anything gets
accomplished around here! It also amazes me that the only two "normal"
individuals in the family haven't thrown in the towel on us and run away from home.
At least not yet........they're both under the age of 15. Thankfully! (Besides, one
of the "normal" children is asthmatic. So, he has his own set of issues. But, he
is the only one that can remember anything around here......so we need him!)
But, there is a lesson to be learned in all of this: patience.
Our broken-ness has forced us to learn to be more patient with each other.
It has forced us to slow down, to be more loving, kind, and understanding.
To have empathy for one another, and to be more willing to help when
one is struggling.
I now see our family very much like a puzzle. And, we're all one piece of
that puzzle. Therefore, we all need each other, to help each other in order
to complete the puzzle that we call our family.
I wish we didn't have ADD/ADHD, deafness, or asthma in our family,
but if it teaches us to grow in love, and to become better human beings....
to be more like Christ.........then maybe it is worth it. And, maybe,
though it isn't what we would choose, it is a gift to teach us lessons from the Lord.
To teach us to be more like Him.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
"Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:
if either of them falls down,
one can help the other up."
Friday, November 8, 2013
What would you choose?
Today, I'm excited and a little stressed out all at once.
Why? You ask. Because today is the day that I place an order for new hearing aids.
Narrowing down the brand and type was fairly easy considering my type of
hearing loss.
The thing that I'm struggling with is the COLOR. Yes, I'm having more difficulty
choosing which color I want then which aid I need to buy. For the past 35 years
of my life, I have only worn ONE color. Beige. Bland, matches-absolutely-no-
skin-color-of-anyone-on-this earth, beige.
So, the excitement at the chance to have new colors is a bit intoxicating.
You probably think I'm over reacting. It's just color, right? Think I'm crazy?
Let me put it to you this way: What if your entire life you only had vanilla ice-cream.
You were grateful for the vanilla ice-cream. But then one day, they came out with
strawberry, mint chocolate chip, and butter pecan! And, you could ONLY have
ONE flavor for the next 5 to 7 years. Oh, the agony! Which would you choose?
That is where I'm at right now.
I really wanted hot pink; but alas that is not an option. My choices are
red, transparent purple, and transparent blue. They're all good options.
I'm just not sure which to choose. And, I don't know if I want both of the
hearing aids to be the same color. Or if I want each aid to be a different color.
Oh, the possibilities!
I really want my hearing aids to "pop!". If you've never worn hearing aids,
let me tell you: just because a person has hearing aids, doesn't mean that their
hearing is perfect. It isn't like buying a pair of glasses and having perfect vision.
I still won't hear people as well as I could if I had "normal" hearing.
Having said that, I want bold colored hearing aids. So when I don't
hear the woman speaking behind me, asking me to move out of her way
so that she can reach for that jar of pickles that I'm blocking, she may see
my bold colored aids and realize that I'm not being rude, but that I am unable
to hear her.
So, it's a tough decision! The only easy part is choosing the color that I want
for the ear molds (the part that fits inside the ear). The ear molds come in a
variety of colors as well. But, they will be changed about every 2 years.
And, they can come in any color! Even three colors swirled together!
With glitter! But, because they will be changed about every two years,
the commitment isn't as intense.
I am leaning toward purple aids with hot pink glittery molds.
The color and shine will hopefully stand out and be noticeable.
So maybe, next time I'm blocking someone trying to reach for a
box of cereal on the shelf in front of me, they'll see my aids and
bear with me, instead of giving me a scowl for not stepping aside.
Here is to new hearing aids! Hoping that they'll improve the quality of my
life, and save the sanity of those who must live with me, love me,
and be around me!
Why? You ask. Because today is the day that I place an order for new hearing aids.
Narrowing down the brand and type was fairly easy considering my type of
hearing loss.
The thing that I'm struggling with is the COLOR. Yes, I'm having more difficulty
choosing which color I want then which aid I need to buy. For the past 35 years
of my life, I have only worn ONE color. Beige. Bland, matches-absolutely-no-
skin-color-of-anyone-on-this earth, beige.
So, the excitement at the chance to have new colors is a bit intoxicating.
You probably think I'm over reacting. It's just color, right? Think I'm crazy?
Let me put it to you this way: What if your entire life you only had vanilla ice-cream.
You were grateful for the vanilla ice-cream. But then one day, they came out with
strawberry, mint chocolate chip, and butter pecan! And, you could ONLY have
ONE flavor for the next 5 to 7 years. Oh, the agony! Which would you choose?
That is where I'm at right now.
I really wanted hot pink; but alas that is not an option. My choices are
red, transparent purple, and transparent blue. They're all good options.
I'm just not sure which to choose. And, I don't know if I want both of the
hearing aids to be the same color. Or if I want each aid to be a different color.
Oh, the possibilities!
I really want my hearing aids to "pop!". If you've never worn hearing aids,
let me tell you: just because a person has hearing aids, doesn't mean that their
hearing is perfect. It isn't like buying a pair of glasses and having perfect vision.
I still won't hear people as well as I could if I had "normal" hearing.
Having said that, I want bold colored hearing aids. So when I don't
hear the woman speaking behind me, asking me to move out of her way
so that she can reach for that jar of pickles that I'm blocking, she may see
my bold colored aids and realize that I'm not being rude, but that I am unable
to hear her.
So, it's a tough decision! The only easy part is choosing the color that I want
for the ear molds (the part that fits inside the ear). The ear molds come in a
variety of colors as well. But, they will be changed about every 2 years.
And, they can come in any color! Even three colors swirled together!
With glitter! But, because they will be changed about every two years,
the commitment isn't as intense.
I am leaning toward purple aids with hot pink glittery molds.
The color and shine will hopefully stand out and be noticeable.
So maybe, next time I'm blocking someone trying to reach for a
box of cereal on the shelf in front of me, they'll see my aids and
bear with me, instead of giving me a scowl for not stepping aside.
Here is to new hearing aids! Hoping that they'll improve the quality of my
life, and save the sanity of those who must live with me, love me,
and be around me!
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