An Apology to my Hearing Friends

As I sat reading and writing at one of my favorite local coffee shops today I was convicted about attitudes I've developed and ways I've adapted to this "new world" of being hard of hearing.

       I was convicted and reminded that my abilities will fade and my inabilities will always catch up to me. Pridefully boasting in my strengths and fumbling to cover up my weaknesses is exhausting and futile. I don't want to apologize for my hearing loss anymore. Yes, it's an inconvenience. Yes, it makes conversations awkward, but moreso the awkwardness a result of my pride, not my physical loss. It is pride that would rather bluff my way through conversations in noisy environments than be honest about what I'm missing. Pride fearfully screams at me that if I'm honest and ask for help people will see me as less, a burden rather than an asset. Pride finds my worth in my abilities instead of my identity as an image-bearer of Christ.

So today I offer you an apology.

Forgive me for being stubborn, prideful, and dishonest about my hearing loss. Forgive me for bluffing through dinner conversations, for not having the humility to ask for clarity when I mishear you ten times in a row. Forgive me for letting my fear of being an inconvenience hinder our connection and for not trusting your friendship.  Forgive me for not asking for the help I need (captions, conversation catch up or summary) out of fearing you wont want to help.

Additionally, I'm asking you to help me. In love, please come alongside me in this noisy, holiday season. Please call me out on my bluffing by asking if I understood when I look confused and reminding me that my hearing loss doesn't make me less. Please let me in on your struggles. I promise to do my best to listen, to be honest, to trust Jesus in my loss and entrust to Him you, the people he's placed around me. There are and will be times when we are both frustrated, hurting, in need of a dose of humility and grace.

To my hearing (and reading) friends, thank you for listening.

Elise

The Glad Game

I can't help but reflect to night on how blessed and thankful I am for so many things I take for granted in my life. Without further ado, in anticipation for a wonderful day with my parents and friends, and in no particular order, is a smattering of things, as they come to mind, that I am thankful for this Thanksgiving:

Jesus is faithful when I am not, His grace is sufficient, my Parents, my Grandparents, my extended family, friends that are like family, coffee, used book stores, the smiles and laughter from each of the kids I work with, the fact that watching a child learn something new/be able to do something after weeks of therapy is the most rewarding thing, teaching Sunday school, the honesty of a child, painting, free time to paint/write, the fresh smell of the grass after rain, beautiful puget sound, travelling, alki beach, autumn leaves, a car that works, the hearing I have left, the technology that enables me to hear, a job I love, the colors, the diversity of nature, a good education, community, and so much more.



Some of my Favorite quotes about thankfulness:

When we were children we were grateful to those who filled our stockings at Christmas time. Why are we not grateful to God for filling our stockings with legs? ~G.K. Chesterton
You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink. ~G.K. Chesterton
If a fellow isn't thankful for what he's got, he isn't likely to be thankful for what he's going to get. ~Frank A. Clark
We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude. ~Cynthia Ozick

“I thank God for my handicaps, for, through them, I have found myself, my work, and my God” Helen Keller

The Pilgrims came to America not to accumulate riches but to worship God, and the greatest wealth they left unborn generations was their heroic example of sacrifice that their souls might be free.--Harry Moyle Tippett

Contentment is a Choice November 17, 2011

             The last few weeks have been really busy. The usual work, substitute teaching, a wedding, baby showers, Sunday School teaching, and attempting to fit in decent work outs have filled these soggy, dark, November days. To top it off, Thanksgiving is a week away. Naturally, I tend to reflect this time of year—on what the year has contained and how blessed I am, but it’s also a season of remembering loss. I am just about a month away from the four year anniversary of finding out about my degenerative hearing loss. With each year new insights and feelings spring up; it’s akin to losing a family member but different in many ways; I am still here, thanks be to God I have some hearing left, and I have grown in countless ways. However, in the areas of my loss, and in singleness, I continually come back to the importance of choosing contentment.

            Yes, contentment is a choice, a lesson hard learned. Praying for it is like praying for patience or humility—get ready for a rough yet worthwhile ride. Some days choosing contentment is easy—days with friends, family, sunshine, a good book, milestones with the kids at work; others are a battle—embarrassment-riddled mishearing, traffic, wallowing in loneliness (also a choice), get me sidetracked from joy as I focus on what I don’t have as opposed to what I do. This week and day has been a battle. Maybe it’s another holiday season of singleness, missing family and friendships that have changed; but ultimately it comes down to choosing contentment. Choosing to rest in Christ comes by being rooted in His word, promises, and hope. I am ridiculously blessed. Like Paul, I have all I need to be content. I want to choose contentment. Like one of my TWU professors articulated “being alone is a condition, loneliness is a choice”. I may not have a “significant other” but I do have many significant others in my life—from family to friends and the precious children I work with. So I am committed to choosing contentment. It is a choice that is not rooted in my circumstances, but in Christ.

The Fine Line between Idolatry and Desire November 17, 2011

           As a 24 year old single in the church, one of the things that has struck me is the tendency for people I meet, usually married, to assume or flippantly articulate that “maybe having a relationship is an idol for you…” when I express my desire to get married, have a family. To be honest, that is very possible, and something I freely admit I need to guard against and frequently ask the Holy Spirit to search my heart about. I know it is not ultimate, will never satisfy/complete me, etc. What bothers me is when already married or “married at a young age”, often well-meaning people throw the “idol” line out as a means of ending an awkward conversation where they don’t want to give “false hopes” destined to hang in the air. For the longest time I was fearful to, and felt shame in, admitting that I desire those things. Maybe I was afraid of the “idol card” and didn’t want to face an awkward conversation where I was apt to respond emotionally in a way I didn’t mean to but saying things I meant. It’s taken awhile, but I now can admit that I do desire marriage, and I know that the desire isn’t wrong.  I wish I could have a conversation about desiring it without the “idol card” being one of the first things mentioned. The pain of not being pursued is real, at times it is agonizing to have “guy friends” but nothing more (something my last post touched on, and the views there are ones I am committed to implementing with discernment). It is often embarrassing to have people assume I don’t have a date for weddings or other events. Regardless, I am thankful.

            I’m thankful that this points me to Jesus. It reminds me that my ultimate joy must be from my relationship with Him. The marriage I desire is an echo of Eden—the true oneness with my Creator that I was made for. The Holy Spirit knows my hurt, my desires, and where my heart truly lies. HE will test, He will provide all I need. He is my Hope. There is no formula but there is a form “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths” (Proverbs 3:5-6).

            There will definitely be times when, in the context of accountable relationships and community, I need the “idol card” played; my sinful nature gravitates towards settling for things, rather than savoring Christ. There will also be times of hurting in the waiting,when I'll need people willing to grieve, not wallow, with me in the real pain that being alone can bring.  The fact is that this may not be just a season; this unmet desire may persist to point me to Christ in ways that I wouldn’t happen if I had a relationship. I am thankful my singleness is in the hands of an infinitely loving Savior.

The Intentional Man

I had three posts pour out of me today and may put up another, but I wanted to post this. My good friend Emily and I are starting to go through a book together that I read a year and a half ago by Carolyn McCulley titled "Did I  Kiss Marriage Goodbye". As I flipped through it today this section stood out to me again...emphasis is mine...I thought it was worth sharing...since it seems like such a prevalent issue in churches and for young adult Christians today...the entirety of the book centers on how Christian single women can cultivate qualities of the "Proverbs 31" woman right now...not waiting for when they get into a relationship or marriage.

The Intentional Man
If you are fortunate, you know a few tested noble men. What remains is whether or not they are being intentional toward you. The "problem" with godly men is that they are so markedly different--gentlemanly, kind, attentive--from most men in our culture that it's hard to not receive it personally. I see that over and over again in my church as new women join. Inevitably, one of the guys will offer to walk a woman to her car after a meeting. These women usually have one of two reactions. Either they will refuse the offer because they think the guy is interested, or they will light up like Times Square because they think he is interested. What they don't know is that there is a third option: He's not interested--just extending gentlemanly care. Because they don't know the culture, it's easy to be confused.
The point is, an intentional man makes his purposes known. He tells you what he's doing and where he's leading. He is clear about where he wants the relationship to go. When he's not clear when he's not saying anything, when he's enjoying the friendship but not moving forward--he's not being intentional. Period. You don't see noble deeds because he's not making those noble plans. You may have the greatest friendship in the world, but he's just hanging out in it. In fact, one man (a Christian) called this half-hearted testing of the water "the buddy approach," which he indulged for a number of years with the woman he eventually married:

"I crafted what I thought was an ingenious approach to women: the "buddy approach"...I saw it as a safe way to take a chance--to see if a relationship could grow without the pressure of formal dating and terms like "boyfriend" or "girlfriend." If the friendship began to disappoint, I could always just say, "Oh, maybe you misunderstood me, we're just friends"...to make matters worse, my expectations for women were set by movies and magazine covers that caused me to fantasize about perfection and overlook the real available women right in front of me.
I realized that honesty about the deep friendship I enjoyed with Candice meant I had to quit looking out of the corner of my eye for other options. She deserved my full attention. Traditional wedding vows often include the phrase, "forsaking all others as long as we both shall live." I knew I needed to start practicing the art of "forsaking."'

I know how tempting it is to hang out in these undefined friendships where the best you can get is a blurry, part-time boyfriend. At least some attention is better than none, right? Nope, sorry, I'm no longer convinced of that. For one, I find it challenging to guard my heart and keep my peace before God in these "hopeful friendships." I'm always in danger of closing my fist-of-demand over the friendship. Second, it tempts the men to passivity, in my opinion. It provides them with the out of "oh, maybe you misunderstood me, we're just friends." If we women would be better about guarding the amount of time and attention invested in these close friendships, we might see our reserve rewarded with pursuit instead of passivity.

...When is a man interested? When he says so and his actions back up his words. Anything less is at best merely friendly, and possibly even uncertain or inconsiderate. If he's a noble man who's made noble plans, one of his noble deeds is letting you know about it!" (p.88-90)


Any thoughts?

From the Archive: Songbirds are Taught to Sing in the Darkness March 11, 2011

              One of the most interesting facets of my hearing loss is how it never ceases to reveal new aspects of myself. My fallen nature: irritability, anger, fear, despair, to name a few. It is something that is all-encompassing in how it transforms your life-not just surface things like wearing aids, but. From how you approach conversations (great lighting and the less background noise the better); to chosen entertainment: books and board games, less movies/plays; and even recreation: swimming is now terrifying and outdoor exercise is weather permitting (imagine running a 5K with an umbrella) since wearing a hood leads to maddening aid feedback. Dinners in restaurants are now anxiety producing and embarrassment riddled when the waiter asks how you want your burger done and you respond with "just water, thanks". You see, this loss is not just in your ears, its all-encompassing, and after 3 years, it gets a little overwhelming. You can only take so much of the daily struggles before the foundation of what you are is challenged.  Core things that keep you grounded and sane are suddenly on shaky ground, confiidence eroding. Knowing you're a capable adult is assaulted by the constant reminder of all the little things you're now incapable of-- and the scale begins to tip because of the weighty evidence that builds each day. Eventually, it's not just characteristics that defined you, like loving going to movies, concerts, dinners, swimming, etc., that are crumbling, but more deeply, your identity. All those little questions turn into a big one- who am I now? I'm not as capable, confident, care-free, and competent as I once was- and what does that mean?  You cannot see yourself the same when your life is turned upside down. Your very identity is in a limbo.

            Personally, I began to believe I was second-rate. As the days and years drug on, the embarrassment, incapability, and challenges seemed to separate me from the pack, like a zebra in quicksand. I couldn't escape and a life with my dreams as tangible seemed like a deceptive mirage. My friends and family were unable to help, and life seemed to be pretty hopeless- because who wants to strive for something unattainable? So there I sat, bleating for help but not believing it would come, or, if it did, it would be like my aids- an immense help to "making-do" with life, but not really "solving" the problem or giving hope- much less get my identity on solid ground. But see, that outlook- hopeless and jaded, leads you to isolation, sure sinking in the quicksand, and not even attempting to grasp the rope. The fight makes you sink faster, relaxing, being still in the turmoil helps you to see, buys you time, gives you hope. Thrashing in terror thwarts the tangible truths around you. But sometimes I think you need the despair to truly appreciate the hope. you need to know what its like to be hopeless, to feel second-rate, before the glorious hope, acceptance, love, and purpose of Jesus can really take root.

            This past week, I finally stopped thrashing and grabbed the rope, I have been pulled to hope. When I was at my darkest- unable to even articulate the assault the loss had put on my identity (with fear in the workplace of being more of a burden than an asset, feeling like a charity case friend rather than a needed comrade), Jesus pulled me out. In the span of 48 hours I had a new hope through two divine appointments: one, a conversation, and one with a neurolotogist, as well as a window to a dream- acceptance into a masters program for teaching early childhood special education. All these under-girded by a wonderful week with family who I know love me unconditionally. These things drastically changed the balance of the scale of hope. With a triumphant thud my identity was grounded from the years of limbo. No longer could the daily fears, embarrassment, and changes outweigh the evidence of my capability and purpose. To be honest, it felt too good to be true. Did I really have hope, purpose? Was I really "first-rate" and needed, with my limitations and all? Old habits and thoughts die hard. Would Jesus really be my rescue, my hope, NOW? Not only had my outlook on life been challenged, but more centrally, my view of my Savior. His character and provision, the goodness of his grace. I almost didn't want to believe these new hopes, provisions, because they were so unmerited-but, that's the point, the beauty of grace.

             My prayer is that these truths take root and are as constant as the ringing in my ears. May I continue to renew my mind and be transformed, rooted in the Christ who never ceases to save me.

In reference to the title, and included ink sketch I drew yesterday, here is one of my favorite quotes by Oswald Chambers, but quoted in "In This Mountain" by Jan Karon

At times God puts us through the discipline of darkness to teach us to heed Him. Songbirds are taught to sing in the dark and we are put into the shadow of God's hand until we learn to hear Him...watch when God puts you into darkness, and when you are there keep your mouth shut. Are you in the dark just now in your circumstances, or in your walk with God? Then remain quiet...when you are in the dark, listen, and God will give you a very precious message for someone else when you get in the light- Oswald Chambers

      

"Prayer Answered by Crosses" by John Newton

Its been a busy week, and getting busier...teaching, subbing, bachelorette party, and a wedding, on top of sunday school planning make for a pleasantly full and exhausting week. Additionally, I have been doing a lot of thinking about friendships, life, the future...I don't want to waste my days, my relationships, my gifts...anyway, this poem I read by John Newton has continually popped up in my mind the last few days and I thought I'd share it.

Prayer Answered by Crosses
I ask'd the Lord, that I might grow
In faith, and love, and ev'ry grace,
Might more of his salvation know,
And seek more earnestly his face.

'Twas he who taught me thus to pray,
And he, I trust has answer'd pray'r;
But it has been in such a way,
As almost drove me to despair.

I hop'd that in some favour'd hour,
At once he'd answer my request:
And by his love's constraining pow'r,
Subdue my sins, and give me rest.

Instead of this. he made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry pow'rs of hell
Assault my soul in ev'ry part.

Yea more, with his own hand he seem'd
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Cross'd all the fair designs I schem'd,
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.

Lord, why is this, I trembling cry'd,
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?
"'Tis in this way," the Lord reply'd,
"I answer pray'r for grace and faith.

"These inward trials I employ,
"From self and pride to set thee free;
"And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
"That thou mayst seek thy all in me."

Uprooted to be Replanted November 4, 2011

            I’m about to get really honest…this week has been one of internal upheaval. The past few months, okay, really on and off since graduation at TWU, have been littered with intervals of an “early adulthood crisis” of “what am I doing with my life?!” followed by periods of apathy and eventually acceptance. Additionally, it’s been so easy to fall into the trap of comparison. Comparing myself to people who seem to “have it all together” who are in graduate school, getting married, having kids, or starting that career; while I live at home after completing a BA and working in a job I love, with children with disabilities, but really don’t have clear directions for the “next step for me”. Thankfully, God in his infinite graciousness; let me go through these past 18 months. He let me see where looking for others' (my parents, old college professors, co-workers, and friends) approval or acknowledgement of my “success” as a post grad adult would really take me. It led to discouragement, isolation at times, and often hopelessness and futility. This was exactly what I needed to see-- the hollowness of putting my acceptance and identity in anything or person besides the atonement of Christ and HIS view of me.

              Similarly, this season has uprooted every way I defined myself. Sure, I am a sinner saved by Grace, but only after you realize your depravity do you know the weight of salvation, what you’re saved from. Like John Newton, you’re able to say “…I am a great sinner, and Christ is a great Savior”. Growing up in the Church was a tremendous blessing. I can see how Christ has saved me from so many things, I am so blessed. But the fact that I have “always known” about Christ and his work caused me to be “religious” in a lot of ways, and while I believed at the early age of 3, I quickly became religious. Like Martin Lloyd-Jones relates throughout his work, Spiritual Depression, those raised in the church tend to miss justification, moving prematurely onto a focus on sanctification without realizing the totality of their justification. He also states that your temperament doesn’t change when you become a Christian, but your relationship to it does; it does not rule you. My tendency is to want to succeed, and to want others to acknowledge it. From an early age, I remember wanting more than anything for my mother to delight in the things I did, to take notice of my efforts. This carried over into a pride in school work and, as I began to be teased in third and fourth grade, to prove that I could handle it, I was strong enough. I wanted to show the world that a 4’ 10” “almost dwarf” could play sports, could be a “good Christian girl”. I was blinded by my pride and deafened by my futile attempts to find lasting worth and acceptance in anyone but the loving, patient Savior who called me by name. It was easy to go with that flow as long as life was mapped out: high school turned to college, and then….what?

            After college, I tried to continue on my “to-do” list for life. Persevere with hearing loss, check; apply to grad school, check; attempt to get to know new people, get involved in a church, check. Then….well, 18 months later, I’m not in grad school because of financial reasons, and presently I’m not foreseeable acquisition of moving out, getting married anytime soon, you know, the other “markers” of a “successful” mid-twenty year old. It was a pretty bleak place to be. Thankfully, Christ has worked to uproot this, exposing the prideful, achieving nature I have through the frustration and hollow “fulfillment” that fleeting human approval brings. Ironically enough, the people in my life who I wanted to impress with my accomplishments and prove my worth to, like Christ love and accept me often in spite of those things. Yesterday I read one of the later chapters in Spiritual Depression titled, “In God’s Gymnasium” where Lloyd-Jones describes how God disciplines those he loves. He examines, and works us to work his character in us. Often, this takes the form of chastisement. He allows us to be disciplined so we can grow. It is painful but infinitely purposeful. I am so thankful for this season where I was uprooted, the dirt of my depravity was (and I know will continue to be) revealed so that I may be rooted in the only one who can truly satisfy all my desires and cleanse my unrighteousness. He is the perfect physician, as C.S. Lewis states, who “hurts to heal’, who uproots to truly root us in righteousness.