Dancing around the "D" word...

The school year is almost upon us...in case it has escaped your attention. I always enjoyed this time of year growing up. Excitement over new clothes and new school supplies and just the anticipation of being back in the classroom--learning. I love learning--and learning comes easy for me.
This year, I am apprehensive about the start of school. There. I said it. I wouldn't use the word "dread"--no that's too strong. But there is another "D" word I've been dancing around. 

Dyslexia. 

See, while we don't have an actual diagnosis as yet, I have an increasing suspicion that one of my kids falls into this category. Not that it should surprise me. My dad, my brother, two of my nieces--they all have it. And now I'm faced with this possibility...and I feel ill-equipped, unprepared, apprehensive.
Please understand--I have no issues with the idea of Dyslexia. I don't see it as some horrible disease that must be cured. And dyslexics have plenty of good company throughout past and modern history--Albert Einstein...Steve Jobs...
No. What I wrestle with about this are more everyday issues. I find I am not as patient as I should be. And if you've ever spent time listening to a dyslexic read aloud--you will know whether patience is a virtue you possess. I find I am selfish with my time. Dyslexics need more time...for learning (every subject is affected!)...for independence....for reaching maturity. Dyslexia is hard work--for the dyslexic and everyone close to them. And I find that I am fearful of how this precious child will navigate situations apart from me. Will the Sunday School teacher call on them to read a Bible verse aloud? Will they be publicly embarrassed? Will other kids laugh and make fun? And how will that land? Are there a lot of teary sessions in my future--where I will need to help pick up the pieces and quell my own anger over the injustice of others--and maybe just a little bit of what feels like "injustice" that this child even has to struggle with this?

This. This is the reality of having a dyslexic child.  

And yet, my child seems not to struggle with these issues. Yes, maybe decoding language presents a challenge--but they just soldier on, with a good attitude mind you. It's as if they just take this particular challenge as a natural part of life--their life. They never complain--and they don't (as yet) avoid all the situations that frustrate me or cause me fear. They don't dance around the "D" word...they dance with it. 

So, maybe when I'm signing my kids up for their extra classes this year, I need to sign myself up, too. 

For dancing lessons...

The Odor of Christ?

 
One thing that I look forward to each year at this time is the trees flowering. I love how the buds form, swelling slowly until one or two sunny days makes them burst into bloom and announce that Spring--and its celebration of new life--has arrived! 
A local store has these trees (Bradford Pear) lining the side of the building near where I like to park. They make a lovely row of Spring that brings a smile to my face--until I get up close to them. While the flowers themselves are beautifully delicate, the odor they emit is akin to that of fish that has been sitting out upwards of three days! The first time I encountered these trees, I strolled up to one and boldly reached for a cluster of flowers to enjoy what I assumed--from their lovely appearance--would be a breath of Spring goodness. Boy, did I ever experience the opposite! Yuck!
I got to thinking this week as I saw these trees once again in bloom, that they represent how we can be as Christians. As believers, our lives are to be a representation of new life--a whiff of all that is good. II Corinthians 2:15-16 says, "For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ, among those who are perishing. To the one we are an aroma that brings death; to the other an aroma that brings life..." But, too often, we have the outward appearance of all that is good and lovely, but up close, we emit an odor that is a whiff of poor attitudes, pride, entitlement, unclean speech, and gossip (to name a few).  So while we may initially attract others--we eventually repel them!
I remember from Biology class that the main reason for a flower's scent is to attract pollinators. Most flowers carry a sweet smell that attracts bees, birds and butterflies. There are a few flowers, however, whose scent is designed to attract flies and beetles--insects which are attracted to dead things and waste products. Now bees, birds and butterflies are associated with what is sweet and or beautiful. Flies and beetles are associated with filth, death and disease. Hmmm...that gives me food for thought.
I want to be the kind of Christian who attracts that which brings beauty and sweetness--not death and disease. What good is a show of beauty if what I emit repels others--and attracts that which will bring negative things into my life? 
My prayer is that I will be the "...pleasing aroma of Christ...an aroma that brings life..." I want others to not just see the Beauty of Christ when they see me--but to enjoy the lingering scent I leave behind.

 

Swimming pool "solutions"

There's some strain in a relationship in my life. I've pondered this, analyzed it, turned it inside out and truly searched my heart to figure out where things need to change. I've been carrying a mental list of changes that could be made which would really relieve a lot of the stress. Now, if the other party would just be willing to hear my list--things would become a lot easier!
I am reminded of a scenario that occurred to my husband's family while he was growing up. For a number of years, his family lived in Indonesia while his dad worked for an oil company. Living in a foreign country brings with it a number of challenges and inconveniences. It can, at times, be quite stressful--especially for spouses. So, Dad's company began to notice that many of their employees were unhappy in their personal lives--particularly in their marriages. After many hours of deliberation, they determined that what their employees lacked as a key to happiness and marital bliss was....an in-ground swimming pool in their back yards! 

 

Most of these families lived in company housing, so the work was begun right away. Now, mind you, some of the back yards of the houses could barely fit an in-ground pool--but no matter! They were out to achieve happiness and marital resolution--even if it meant their employees would now have no place for their patio set! 

I'm not really sure the outcome of this project on marital bliss and general happiness, but it does make me think: Are their times when I forge ahead in a relationship with things that I think will improve the situation--without regard to the feelings or interest of the other party? (In case you're wondering, the answer is yes.) And like the pool--which did provide some nice refreshment in the hot Indonesian weather--are any of my ideas and solutions good, but possibly inconveniencing or frustrating?(Me, again)

Philippians 2:3-4 teaches," Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,  not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."

I guess that's the answer to my strained relationship. I need to consider the other person--and what they desire first, before I forge ahead with my own solutions. I may even need to back up a bit and correct some things. Just glad it's not a swimming pool's worth...

Buried Alive

 

Lately, I've been feeling like I've fallen into a hole of my own making...sort of like I've dug my own grave. Sure, other things take a good scoop out of my time, schedule, energy--but it's my lack of time budgeting that makes those things impactful. Why do I do this to myself? Some of it has to do with the genuine enjoyment I get from being involved in many things....and admittedly, some of it comes just from my apparent inability to say "no." I think all women go through these seasons--times when there have been too many yeses and life begins to feel deep, dirty, messy and confining like, well, a grave. The word taphophobia refers to,  "the fear of being buried alive." It actually translates to, "fear of graves." I think I could use some of that in my life--fear of graves of my own making.

So, where do I go from here? I can keep digging. Stupid. I can  sit down and cry. Foolish (but tempting). Or I can put down my shovel, look up and ask God to lift me out of this hole I've made. Psalm 40:2 encourages me:

 "He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
    out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
    and gave me a firm place to stand." 

Boy, could I use that....a firm place to stand. I'm ready to put down the shovel.