What am I going to do with you?

I'm chatting with my mom when my doctor enters the room.  After welcoming us and saying it was nice to see us again, he looks me in the eye, shakes his head and asks "Emily, what am I going to do with you?"


Truth be told: not the greeting I was looking for.  I want answers!  I want progress!  Tell me what's wrong, what's ailing me!  Why am I continuously feeling sick?  A positive attitude proves difficult to maintain when my doctors are unable to figure out why I'm in pain.  After two years of feeling sick, I sometimes wonder if an answer will ever present itself.  But, I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel (I just don't know how long it will take me to get there!).


Does God say this to us when we're created?  "Emily, what am I going to do with you?"  He has a plan for me, I know that--I believe that.  In all of His infinite wisdom, He has this whole thing already worked out (and that includes this illness I'm battling).  Something will come out of all of this hurt and frustration--something good even!  


Has God deemed me fit to travel this journey in order to help others along the way, influence someone or something, or just grow due to his grace?  People may think I'm crazy when I say I'm blessed.  I am so blessed!  Anything is possible through God, and I know I will not be given more than I can bear (a very calming and encouraging thought).  I can do this!


I exude thankfulness and happiness for so many things in my life. Despite my vision problems, I can still see!  Despite my pain, it can be managed!  Despite the countless other issues I encounter, I'm alive!


I may never fully understand why I have been put in this situation, but the abundance of blessings are already appearing.  It helps ease the pain and the sorrow knowing that God is working in my life with a plan to which he already knows the outcome.  


When the feeling that I'll never find answers drifts over me, when the sadness and heartache interfere, I remind myself that it's all part of God's plan, and there truly is a reason behind all of this.  I just need a little bit of faith and let his blessings and grace wash over me.  

Unexpected Clarity

Ear plugs are my friend.  I wear them almost every day to block out noises that, to me, are so abrasive and overwhelming.  From riding in the car, walking down the street, or just sitting in my apartment, they protect me.  The ability to hear people talking or other important sounds is still present, but these ear plugs eliminate all of the extra noise and offer a softening effect.  They remove the nonessential background noises that people normally disregard (but are paralyzing to me).  It's so perfect!  I pop these ingenious devices in my ears and, just like magic, everything seems more manageable.  

So, this got me thinking yesterday.  What if I applied this concept to my life?  These ear plugs clear out the unnecessary noises and make everything clearer.  This unexpected clarity--this relief--that comes from something so simple astounds me.  


I've come to learn that if I simplify my life and work to remove the clutter--the negativity, the guilt, the constant worry--things are smoother, easier to control.  The realization that everything will indeed be okay offers difficulties, especially when I'm in the situation.  But, hindsight is 20/20 and my tendencies to over-think things almost always prove foolish in the end.  I have adopted the mantra to live simply (and it's working!).  


Now, my ear plugs serve as a reminder that clarity and order are attainable, despite my difficult situation.  When I adjust my attitude and actions, a beautiful calmness appears.

Today is the Day

For a while now I’ve been thinking about starting a blog.  To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what has been stopping me.  When the idea of blogging first came to me, my inner voice shouted “But you aren’t the blogging type!”  The worst part about this is I actually believed the little voice echoing inside my head.  What does that mean, anyway?  Not the blogging type—who says?  Do I have to be a certain type of person or part of some elusive, secret club to be inducted into the vast world of bloggers?

Maybe some hidden irrational fear of sharing my thoughts with the world is lurking somewhere deep inside me.

I remember keeping a dairy when I was about nine years old.  I never had a fancy diary.  My friends at school proudly carried their sparkly, pink, dairies of awesomeness that came complete with a shiny brass lock and key with which to lock their secrets away securely.  Mine was really just a little book.

Then, it happened.

I went up to my room and the door was cracked.  I had specifically remembered closing it because I didn’t want my brothers and cousin (who was visiting) invading my room.  As I pushed the door open, I heard laughter.  Boy laughter.  There stood my brothers and cousin reading my dairy (apparently the hiding spot I thought adequate was not).  My biggest fear at the tender age of nine had been realized.  My thoughts—my private thoughts—were being mocked and ridiculed right in front of me. 

Behind closed doors, the laughter and ridicule turned to tears.  Why did I care what those mean boys thought?  Did it matter that they made fun of my deepest secrets—of me?  As a fragile nine year old girl, the answer could be none other than “yes.”  Distraught, I dealt with the matter in the only way I knew how; I ripped the pages out of my dairy and after tearing them up and disposing of them, vowed never to write in it again.

As I sit here today thinking about this experience thirteen years ago, I can’t help but wonder if I’m reliving it in some ways.  Have I procrastinated starting a blog because I’m actually stricken by a fear of what people will think about me—about my thoughts?  There is something slightly menacing about opening up to the world and embracing vulnerability.  Then again, does it really matter what people think?

My longing to start a blog has really been fueled by the thought that it is something I could do for myself, not for anyone else.  So, when my English professor suggested keeping a blog to fulfill my honors requirements, I secretly rejoiced.

Thanks, Dr. H., for giving me the push I needed to finally do this.

So, today is the day—and I’m thankful!