Consider The Lilies Of The Field

Okay, so I said that I was going to post a blog post every week. As you can see, I have already failed in that. But I am going to renew that promise and attempt it again. This week I will give you all an update on the whole eye situation.

So as you remember, two of my siblings and my parents went up to Chicago to see a specialist. This was the day that had been dreaded all of March.

So the day came and they left to go to Chicago, in order to not go insane, I stuffed it down. I downgraded it. I thought that if I told myself it wasn’t a big deal and waved my hand at it, that I wouldn’t be torn apart by the waiting.

Because I am a cynic, I had the feeling that they were going to go up there and find out the worst. Find that we were all going to go blind in the next few years. So many things have happened to me and my family that I expected that of course we were going to get the worst, when had we ever been able to take the easier path?

Our aunt kindly came out and fed us pizza and that was good and really helpful. (Thanks Aunt Sommer) It was nice to be able to, for a little bit, somewhat not be in charge.

Then later that day we got a Skype call. Even though they told us they weren’t going to call us with good or bad news, I had feeling that it was bad news. After about ten minutes of technical difficulties the faces of my parents and two of my younger siblings showed up on the screen. I steeled myself for the news.

Their faces broke out into smiles, and they told us: We were not going to go blind. We were just going to have night blindness!

“Go and celebrate!” They said to us before we hung up.

The next day a voice in my head prodded me and said. “Consider the lilies.” Through out the day the voice repeated. “Consider the lilies, consider the lilies.”  I knew, it was The Holy Spirit speaking to me.

God knew my doubts and cynicalness. “Arianna,” he was saying, “if I can clothes the lilies of the field, can’t I take even more care of you? Arianna, why so little faith in me? Aren’t I the creator?”

That next day, when I woke up I looked at the date on my phone:

March 18th

It was strange, I felt that anything past the 17th didn’t exist. That it was the end of the world. It was beautiful to see those two numbers.

So in short, me nor either of my siblings are going blind and I learned a valuable lesson from God himself. If he can clothe the wildflowers, then he can take so much more care of me.

And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! -Matthew 6:28-30

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Up We Go

Normally I’m excited for March. It brings the promise of spring. It is the month where all things green start to peek through the muddy ground, and when the Protestants wear orange. It is also the month of my birthday.

However, this year March has been more of a month of dread. Last year, along with four of my siblings, I discovered that I have a rare inherited retinal disease. A disease that may or may not lead to blindness. It is so rare that we are going to a specialist who specializes in rare inherited retinal diseases. If he doesn’t know what it is, then it is a new disease. On March 17th, my mother, father, and two of my younger brothers are going up to Chicago to see what exactly it is.

I won’t lie and say that I’m not afraid. Everyone is afraid. There is a hidden tension in the house. A nervous anticipation for the day. Everyone wants to know the answer, but we’re afraid of what it might be.

For a while I felt afraid, but I couldn’t put words to it. I knew I was afraid, but I didn’t know why. This Sunday, we asked our Church to pray for us. My dad stood up and began to speak.

We’ve been praying for healing…
and I know like that’s the Christainese thing and you’re kinda supposed to do it. But from my background, nah that’s actually not what you did. It doesn’t work that way.

But I’ve been coming to see that for me wresting with what’s God’s Will and I don’t need to know. I’m their father, and I’m supposed to pray that they be healed.

And past that though I think that this is a thing that God has brought into our family for the sake of all of you.

We want this to be our gift to you That what does it mean to be a Christian when you’re faced with the death of possibly your dreams

And we wanna stand up here and one hand wanna say that I am terrified and praying that we get up there and they don’t find anything and what if God says no? How do you face that?

At that point I wanted to leap up and shout. “That’s it! That’s why I’m afraid!”

What if God says no? Then what?

Everyone here is ready to go
It’s been a hard year with nothing to show
From down this road
It’s only on we go, on we go – Up We Go by LIGHTS

A Big Heart: A poem about us

A big heart for compassion…a big pocket for generosity,

I woke up this morning saying this. I thought it sounded nice, so I thought I’d complete it and post it here.

A big heart for compassion

A big pocket for generosity

Two ears for listening

Two eyes to see justice

Two hands to work the ground we’ve been given.

And two feet to bring us closer to the Lord.

Hope you like it for being written at 8 AM.