Harp Singing

Sometimes, I've just got to shake my head at myself. For being mature most of the time, sometimes I really can be rather childish.

I have Bronchitis right now. It's not great, but I was doing all right until last night when I tried to sing. I always sing to myself and to God as a way of talking. But last night, I found that my voice was gone. I tried to force it, but crackles and croaks with a little tone were all I could do and even those hurt to make.

I silently pouted on my bed for a while (with bouts of sleeping in between brooding) and was ungraciously ungrateful for my lot. I didn't wonder why it was me, but I sure wished to have my voice back.

Then, as I sat there, I remembered back to the last hip surgery. When everything was wrong and I hurt and could tell meds were affecting me and on top of it all, I couldn't sing with the oxygen tubes. My Dad was there and he asked me what I wanted to make me feel better. I said, "It's too much to ask." He asked me to say it anyway, so I said, "What I really want is to curl up around the harp, be alone, talk to God, and cry. But I doubt the hospital would let a harp in even if you wrapped it up and dragged it here." I fell asleep and when I woke up, Dad was back with my harp, unwrapping it and asking where I wanted it. I don't know if I started crying then, but I felt like doing to from being overwhelmed with emotions. The meds only accented what I felt and since what I felt was love, I was entirely overwhelmed.

I remembered that time as I sat there silently. I didn't remember it until just then. So with some effort, I grabbed the harp and laid it on my chest just like the post-surgery time. It helps me feel like I'm singing to feel the harp resonate with the different bones in my body.

This also made me realize once again that if you lament what you don't have, often you miss something much better. Now that I remember that memory of my Dad taking care of me, I realize that I would trade losing my voice for remembering it once again. And with not being able to sing, I had to sing to my Heavenly Father straight from the heart. Though it's more uncomfortable for me, I think He likes it better anyway.

I just wanted to remember this lesson for later on.

A Few Friendship Lessons

Friendship is a strange beast, all right.

In the past month, I've really been delving into the subject and just like with everything else, knowledge only serves to expound upon how much you don't know. Still, there are some things I think I'll want to read about later.

One problem I've had is that many people call me "friend" where I did not feel the same way about them. One example is this girl in my Physics class. Our beginnings are strange. I apparently met her soon after the accident, during my amnesia time. It was odd for us both when in second semester I sat down and this random girl sat next to me and started talking to me as if I knew her. Only problem was, I didn't remember her at all. Then on Katlyn's side of things, she had a friend and she came back the next semester just to find out that her friend didn't remember her and had a personality change. Over the next year, we backed off, but she still called me friend. I was dubious about reciprocating, though.

Truth be told, that was my own fault for being afraid. I didn't accept it until recently, but I was honestly afraid of having friends. Best friends I was okay with and acquaintances were just fine. But the concept of having a friend is a new one. This semester I'm changing that. I decided to make friends and the results have been incredible.

Turns out Katlyn reciprocates friendship easily and we are learning together. It's been strange, but quite wonderful. Like I've learned how to not run if Katlyn wants to walk and she's learned to pick her battles with our stubbornnesses and I've learned how to wait and say goodbye before leaving and she's learned how to listen when I'm not speaking English very well. Just things I never had to think about before.

Once Katlyn and I started becoming friends, I decided to try this friendship thing again. One day I went up and started asking Lin all the questions I could think of in order to ellicit conversation. Questions such as, "So. What did you think of problem 3a in the Differential equations homework?" and "Do you happen to know what accent doesn't say the r's at the end of words like 'chowda'?"
She admitted what I did was awkward, but highly effective. Since then, Lin and I have started becoming friends. Sometimes I forget how to be a friend, but she reminds me. In fact, just yesterday, Lin and Katlyn each said hi to me and the three of us walked across campus together. (I was skipping the whole time and they bonded in mutual amusement at my antics.) It's a wonderful sort of strange.

On the other side of things, I realized how I went wrong with Carol and I's friendship. I realized that she has been to me many, many things that I needed. Mom, Mentor, Missionary, Friend, Sister, Advisor, Life Coach, Medical Nurse, Consultant...etc. And at the time, I needed each one. She's been great about filling the roles of about 20 people and I appreciate her for doing that for me.

But now, I realized... I don't need those anymore. For example, with the missionary part. When I was first discovering Christianity, I needed to ask lots and lots of questions to someone I trusted. And I needed to ask so many that once a week get togethers were hardly enough. (That's because Carol had to be a whole group of believers to me until I was ready for a group of believers.) Sure, that was great and I'm glad she stepped up to it. But honestly at this stage, I've grown a lot spiritually and no longer need the constant attention. I also have other believers to ask questions of and know how to read and look up stuff on my own. She taught me to lean on God and I learned that, I just forgot to stop leaning on Carol too. The way to say thanks is to show her I can do it. That's how I say “I love you” without saying, “I need you more than anything” because I don't need her like that.

It's just like when I tutor students. My goal is to get them to the point that they don't need me. And I'm thrilled when they do so. It's really annoying when someone keeps checking back with me when they have it because I feel as though my teaching was a failure. That's one of the reasons that Carol (and I, in my right mind) thinks that I'm still too attached to her. I've been holding onto things way past when they were needed, afraid to just move on and become my own woman.

And with that fear of gaining more friendship, I was also afraid to reach out and get other friends because that would diminish Carol and I somehow. But it won't. I can show that I've learned a lot from this friendship and use it on gaining other friends. It shows that I value all the stuff I've been learning as we interact.

And another thing I'm finding is that there's a lot of difference in friendships. So, I learned a lot of lessons from Carol and I'm learning a lot of lessons from Katlyn and I get to use what I learn on the other. It's kind of fun actually.

And with more friendships, I've found that my life has more color. Alone time is great as a good white contrast to reset, but friendships are definitely a really neat set of colors in God's crayon box.

Logic and Belief

Last night, I was asked how I came to the conclusion that God exists. I smiled and explained that it was quite logical for me just looking at things like DNA and the beginning of space-time. Belief in God was easy. I mean, the chances of DNA working out to the model of complexity it did is darn near impossible and then of course there is the moment of space-time being created.

The real question of my conversion that she meant to ask was how did I come to believe in Christ. Because that can't be taken the same way.
Word became flesh. Entirely God and yet, entirely a human man. Completely dead and then totally alive again. One in three and somehow, three in one. Dying to live. None of it is logical in conventional manners.

As I said, believing in God was relatively easy. All creation points to His existence and the further I get in science, the more proof there is for me.

But Christ... that one had to be taken by faith. Believing God's Word about His son was a lot harder than looking at scientific facts about creation. It became far too personal to be objective anymore. (Just as He planned it to be.) And yet, I realized the ultimate objective truth. Not through my mind, but through my heart. I told her I came to believe because God chose me, I chose Him and in pursuing me, He wooed me. That's how I've come to believe.

Fraught with Possibilities

Today was my first day back at school and Carol was sure right about one thing. None of my current professors (or fellow students) had seen me at full energy ever before. I almost felt like I needed a disclaimer on my person at all times.

Katlyn (the friend I made when I first got in a wheelchair) saw me in Physics and after a bit of conversation said, "So, this is the real you, huh?"

I said, "Yes. Sorry you haven't met the whole me before. Do you want me to calm it down? I know a few friends that I've done that for already." She said she didn't need it, so I went on. "Golly, I forgot how fraught with possibilities every day is! Oops, I mean full of possibilities. Fraught makes it sound kind of dangerous."

Katlyn smirked and said, "Nope. You had it right the first time. I have a feeling that with this new you, the possibilities are quite dangerous."

We laughed and I was happy. My professors seemed to be all right with it, though a bit thrown off. I surprised myself in Physics. Not once in 3 semesters have I spoken up in class, but today I kept saying the answers as soon as they were asked. Which was fast. Carla was surprised too. She knows I talk because of the Physics department parties, but otherwise I don't speak. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and sometimes I blushed at my hitherto undiscovered boldness.

And in Music History it was the same thing. My professor asked if I was this energetic this last semester or if he just hadn't noticed. My classmates assured him that I was back to my old self. Orchestration was a new professor. We both had the same surgery during the break. He spoke of the depression and craziness of oxicotin. I'll admit, that was the one moment today that I really slowed down and was totally calm. I understood in a very intimate way what he spoke of. The feeling of swimming out in the middle of a sea and realizing that you really might not make it back this time. That you're sinking with no way home.

The secretaries knew me from before surgery and exclaimed, "You're really back, Jen! We missed you!" I was glad. They're crazy in a way I find endearing as well.

All of today has been fraught with possibilities! And the neat thing is, one of those possibilities is to just be still and watch something silently or to write or read. Before surgery that wasn't an option, but now I feel free to even do that. Amazing how limitations can open up a vista of opportunities if allowed.

Longer Lessons

A lot of things have changed since the end of last September. I really keep looking back at that progression of time as I heal from the last surgery.

There were two types of changes and really, I'm glad I got to taste both groups. There were the lessons I was very aware of. The fights and battles to learn what I needed to in crisis situations. Things like patience in a wheelchair or dependance and trust when handicapped. Things like love for those like me and love for those with more than me. These things were fast and I'm glad I learned them.

Then there were the lessons I just realized were going on this whole time. These were the slow things. The things you learn not by trying, but by being shaped day by day into a completely different person. These are the lessons learned from enduring sickness or enduring trials where the end is not apparent and often not even looked for. Since I just barely realized this week these lessons were going on, I'd like to focus on those ones.

I joked with a friend about one just this Wednesday, but it's true. Through the sickness, one lesson that has finally come about is a certain “wisdom.” Perhaps it is just knowing how to work around my own stupidity most of the time and not trying to pretend it's not there. And sometimes this wisdom simply looks like knowing when to be still and quiet. There's a lot of wisdom to be had in a silent pair of eyes.

Another lesson that took even longer is trust in God. That one had to be learned both the quick and the long ways. The quick one was hard, but in its own way the long one was far harder. It reminds me of a C.S. Lewis quote about how when man looks out and sees no sign of God, but still obeys, then that is the worst predicament for a tempter of his soul. I guess I've felt that quite a few times. Even when I was at my worst in a state of withdrawal, I cursed God, but couldn't deny Him. At my depths, I did not know what else to do, but pray. In fact, I still don't know what else to do.

That's the depth with which He has changed me over the past year and months. Because every time I felt sick or the spasms hit, I learned to turn to Him. So now, whenever anything hits, I know no other way to be.

Endurance is of course the best long lesson to learn. I know I still have a long way on that one, but still the depth of the lesson surprises me. I knew I had to keep going even when my strength was gone and now that I've been given a new chance at energy and life, I hardly know how to contain myself.

Then appreciation for life. Golly, that one just hit me today! I forgot how exciting every breath is, every step is, every chance to see the sun and stars or read a book. And this isn't even heaven! Ha!

I'm glad for the accident. At the beginning, I guessed it was all part of God's plan for me. Good guess, but now I know even some of the good that has come of this and I've got to say (though I do not recommend getting hit by a truck) that it was totally worth it.

Humility and Respect

I really came to appreciate the guys in my interdisciplinary class this year and it culminated in this final watching and voting on final projects for the multimedia series concert.

Sure, a lot of them tried to put on the appearance of "laid back" and "cool slacker," but I came to know better as the semester went on. They may have been light about things on the outside, but when it came to projects, the work really showed. All 7 projects that were shown in class were exceptional. I was surprised at the level that we each produced. The film students learned to score and the music students learned to shoot and everyone learned to use symbolism craftily to express emotion.

But that wasn't the real neat thing about that class. What was really neat about all of the guys was their true humility. They would create something so beautiful and not be timid that they did, but then they were just as thrilled to see the next person's work as they were their own. So, just because you made something incredible, didn't mean the next guy's work was more or less incredible. So when it came to voting, we were all excited with the choices that got on the show. Like my favorite was honestly not my own, though I really loved how it turned out, it was Jeremy's. And all of us cheered when Edgar made it.

I guess it was the love in that class that impressed me.

Just as I was surprised to finally understand something we have had in our Physics class the whole time. On the last day when Carla was about to leave so we could fill out evaluations, our whole class clapped and cheered. Not because she was leaving, but as a sign of deep respect for Carla as a teacher. She was surprised at first, but then did a bit of a bow. I smiled because her eyes said that she was touched, like she was going to cry from love. Carla doesn't get emotional, but none of us held that against her. I realized it was like a "Dead Poet's Society" moment. Where we said, "Oh Captain, my Captain," and meant it. And she knew that we meant it. I don't know how many professors earn standing ovations for a required course, but Carla did.

Each one of us was proud to call her our teacher and she changed lives in there. Just from a Physics 3 class.

Milestone in Adulthood

Today was a big day. We had simply wonderful weather, it was my "day off" that I force myself to take each week, Christmas is coming up, I live in a house, and I didn't feel sick. So, I went out and got some on sale Christmas lights and clips from Ace Hardware. I did the first half myself with a smaller ladder borrowed from Stacy. That part went really well.

Then I got the bigger ladder for the tall roof stuff and had Will help (it takes one to hold the ladder and one to climb). It was difficult and we kept running into problems. Thankfully both of us are easy-going, but hard working and laughed our way through much of it. Now all the lights are hung, though we need one more 8 ft extension cord and aren't actually turning them on until after Thanksgiving is over.

It was a milestone in adulthood to me to have a house and put Christmas lights up on it (the frustration helped me feel justified in the milestone label). Like that first time you have a blocked up toilet or the first time you get a flat tire, it was a neat way to say, "Well golly, I'm growing up."


(And since we're not turning them on for a week, I don't have pictures yet.)