Thankful for Dissatisfaction | 30 Days of Gratitude, Day 8

Generally in the job search process, I have tried to remain positive, but it’s very difficult.  There is so little I can control, and what I can control is unrewarding.  My days are a monotonous cycle of work with little return.  Sure, I get the occasional interview, but what good is an interview if I don’t get the job?

I find that I am remarkably unsatisfied… my work feels meaningless… there are thousands of hurting people out there I could be helping right now… and instead I’m sitting in my living room, filling out application after application with no results, just to feed myself and pay for an apartment?  Chores and meals feel like a waste of time too.  I know I need to eat, and do laundry, and clean my bathroom, but that’s an hour or two or five I could have devoted to the search, and maybe those hours could have been what I needed to be employed now.  Keeping in touch with family and friends is easier than it used to be as a crazy busy college student, but I also feel like I can’t be the sister, daughter, friend I want to be because I’m strapped for money, worried about becoming a burden, and slowly losing every bit of confidence I used to have in myself and my talents because I’ve tried my best, and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere.

And then I turn to my Bible, and remember everything IS meaningless…

without God.

“Vanity of vanities! All is vanity”, observes Solomon in Ecclesiastes.  “What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?”

Solomon goes on to examine all of the things that might give a man satisfaction… riches, fame, eating and drinking, hard work, but decides that “all is vanity and a striving after wind”.  So, turns out even if I had a job, it would still be meaningless.

His final conclusion, though, is not the bleak reality one would expect.  Rather, he says, “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecclesiastes 12:13, ESV).

All is vanity and a striving after wind, until we acknowledge that we were designed to live as servants of the Lord on high, our creator and life-giver.

“For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17).

I’m so unsatisfied with my earthly life right now… I hate job searching, and I hate feeling useless, but I am thankful for the way God is using my dissatisfaction here to find my satisfaction in Christ and Christ alone.

“Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup.  You make my lot secure.” (Psalm 16:5)

“For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things.” (Psalm 107:9)

Thankful for Tears | 30 Days of Gratitude, Day 7

I read the news.

I know, that probably doesn’t seem like a blog-worthy bit of information, but hear me out.  I read the news, and I cried for the first time in months.

I could go on a rant about how I shouldn’t have read the news, because it’s all so negative, and that’s the worst thing to do while you are already in a delicate frame of mind, but actually, I was thankful.  It was a relief, in one way, just because I hadn’t felt that emotional release for so long, and in another way, because it meant that I wasn’t so callous to the news negativity that I didn’t feel anything.  Pain, even excruciating pain can be difficult to endure, but apathy must not be.

It reminds me of that old Three Days Grace song… “I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all”.  Those lyrics used to leave me a little sad.  Where must a person be in life to actually desire pain?  But as I consider the alternative, I realize that some part of it makes a good deal of sense.  As one commentator I read today observed of the recent shooters in Las Vegas and Sutherland Springs, the gunmen are not usually wild, raging men wielding firearms.  They are emotionless, cold killers who murder six-month-olds as easily as swatting an annoying fly, and perhaps with even less interest.

I don’t want to be a part of that apathy.  No matter how many times I hear of these tragedies, I want to feel it, really feel it, and grieve with those who have lost their loved ones.  I don’t want to be caught up in the crowd of hungry gossipers, waiting to tear like scavengers at the details of every ghastly attack, snatching at sound bites like the seagulls of Finding Nemo, crying “mine! Mine! Mine!”, hoping to prove some political point or other, quickly forgetting that there are children without parents, parents without children, and siblings without brothers or sisters.  Of course policy is important, but when we leap immediately to political debate, I think in one way we join the emotionless killer in his apathy.

That is why today, I am thankful for tears.

Thankful for Accessible Technology | 30 Days of Gratitude, Day 6

Sometimes, it’s fun to envision what life would have been like a hundred or more years ago.  Imagine a life without digital media, for example, or consider how different transportation was when cars had only just been invented.  What interests me, though, is how life must have been different for the blind.

Some blind people did live independently, had children, and held jobs, like the famous hymn writer Fanny Crosby.  But what was it like?

On the one hand, I’m a bit jealous.  Any society before the invention of cars must have been a great deal more pedestrian friendly, and therefore, blind-friendly, even in the absence of modern infrastructure.  On the other hand, I wonder how blind people managed without ways to independently access printed materials around them, or easily produce them on their own.

I’ve written a few songs in my time—it’s hard to avoid when you live in music city—but Fanny Crosby had over 8000 hymns published!  Then, she would have had to memorize all of her texts and music, written it down in braille and had it transcribed, dictated it to a sighted person to pen them, or penned them herself.  Of course, the only way she could have accessed them again would be through her memory, braille, or a sighted reader.  Evidently, her memory was impeccable.  According to the website I referenced earlier, she memorized five chapters of the Bible a week.

I definitely do not exercise my memory quite that often or to that extent, so perhaps that’s another advantage that antiquity has over modernity for blind folk.  Otherwise, I’m thankful that now a days, accessible technology means that I can easily record music (even as I write it) on my phone, type the lyrics into my computer, review what I have written, and share them with sighted friends, all independently and with very little extra effort on my part.

I am especially thankful for the way assistive tech has made the bible available to the blind in a way it never has been before.  I don’t have to carry volumes and volumes of braille bibles around with me to have constant access to the word of God, nor do I have to have it read to me and memorize five chapters a week, though there’s no doubt that would be a profitable exercise.  But no.  All I have to do is have a charged iPhone with a wifi connection, safari or a bible app, and voila.  The whole word of God is at my fingertips…

“Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law.” (Psalm 119:18)

He has made his word known to us, and not only known, but accessible for study, teaching, comfort, evangelism, truth.  Accessible technology means I, along with other blind people, get to behold the wondrous things of his law by myself, on my own time, in essentially whatever format I choose, and whichever book or verse I prefer to study.  I do not think there is any more valuable gift.

And I will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I do, and I do not forsake them. (Isaiah 42:16)

Thankful for Today | 30 Days of Gratitude, Day 5

Last night, my roommate and I awoke several times to security alerts from Vanderbilt University, informing us that there were two active shooters in the area, and updating us on the status of the incidents.  Fortunately only one person was injured, but I still felt rather like I was taking my life into my hands when I stepped out my door to head to church.

That feeling was only amplified when my normally bubbly, confident guide dog started showing sudden and severe signs of anxiety on the walk to and into our church building.  She had never behaved that way before, so after trying and failing to get her settled for the morning service, I decided to forego church and take my dog home to make sure she was all right.  She was utterly normal on the walk home and in other outings throughout the day, so I’m not sure what triggered the episode, but upon hearing the news of the church shooting in Texas, I couldn’t help wondering whether Prim was sensing something I couldn’t.  I admit, such an idea wanders a bit too far into the field of superstition for my taste, but the important thing about it was it, combined with the news of the last 24 hours left me feeling rather restless.  People always site statistics, but statistics didn’t help the victims in Orlando, or Las Vegas, or Sutherland Springs.  Thus, I was very thankful when my roomies arrived safely home from church, and remained safe as we went about our daily business.

None of our days are promised.  As Proverbs 27:1 says, “Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring.”

What if I were a member of First Baptist Church in Sutherland Springs?  What if I had gone to church, expecting like I usually do that I would go home afterward, laugh with my roommates, play with my dog, cook for the week, make calls to my loved ones… expecting that every one of my church family would return a week later to worship like always.  But, we can’t expect that.  We cannot boast about tomorrow… so we might as well be thankful for today, and do our utmost to serve the God who gave it to us.

To that end, here is a link to the Facebook page of First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs.  There is a donate button there and a link to their official website.  If you feel called, I’m sure your gift would be welcomed.

Thankful for Burnt Rolls | 30 Days of Gratitude, Day 4

I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to host a big celebration, like Thanks Giving or Christmas.  It sounds like so much work, and I couldn’t imagine how I could ever prepare for that many people with that much food to make and that many dishes to clean up afterward… and yet, it seems like it would be fulfilling… to know how much you contributed to the success of an event that brought loved ones together when they might not have otherwise been together, and formed memories that might not otherwise have been formed.

My suite mates and I got a small taste of what that might be like this weekend.  We hosted “Friends Giving”, my roommates tradition with a couple college friends.  Here’s what I learned from the whole experience.

1. Very little goes as planned.

A: Turns out most grocery stores don’t have thanks giving turkeys until a bit closer to thanks giving, so we settled on mixed rotisserie turkey and chicken.

B: I made one batch of rolls that turned out wonderfully, then put the next batch in only to come back 10 minutes later with them burnt to a crisp.  My buds didn’t realize that if you turn the oven knob one way, it turns on the oven, and if you turn it the other way, it turns on the broiler.  Whoops.

C. We planned to eat at 6:00 Pm.  I think we sat down around 7:30.  Hahaha.

2. Decorations are Worth it!

One of our friends brought pumpkins, gourds, and pretty fall leaves to brighten our dinner table.  I grew up in a family that wasn’t too fussed about getting out decorations of any kind, except for the tree and lights at Christmas and the occasional wreath, so it’s kind of a novel idea to me to decorate for Thanks Giving, but I love it and have decided to adopt the tradition.

3. It’s fun to cook with other people.

If I were doing all the cooking on my own, there’s no doubt prepping a holiday feast would be enormously overwhelming, but having the opportunity to prepare a meal as a group effort was so wholesome and satisfying.  Sure, it was crowded, loud, hot, and all of us were tripping over dogs who had appointed themselves cleanup crew for the kitchen floor, but we were also talking, laughing, singing along to country music, helping each other when we needed an extra hand or spice or tool that someone else had been using, and every bit of that added to the flavor of the food we sat down to hours later.  I think, in a very dim and modern way, it reflected the way the pilgrims and Indians must have felt in feasting together after so much hard work at that New England meal hundreds of years ago.

So, today, I am thankful for burnt rolls, and crowded kitchens, and a delicious meal with friends and food aplenty.

Thankful for Little Moments | 30 Days of Gratitude, Day 3

After a day of resume building, job applications, and housework, it was a relief to take a few minutes to lay down with my guide dog snuggled next to me and read a book for a little while.  It wasn’t anything spectacular, and I felt a little guilty for that.  I was choosing this over other things I could be doing… other, presumably more useful things, like more job applications.

I’m realizing, though, that along with the choice to work, I have the choice to rest.  Not everyone has that choice right now… single mothers working to feed and raise their children, members of the military in combat, refugees fleeing from war torn regions, persecuted Christians seeking asylum from inhospitable governments, families recovering from hurricanes and earthquakes and mass shootings, the list goes on.

I am unemployed.  I have a great deal of work to do, and, in my mind, a minuscule amount of time to dedicate to something as trivial as rest, but in a world populated with big change, big disasters, and big miracles, today I am thankful for little moments, and a little bit of chill.

Thankful for Tools | 30 Days of Gratitude, Day 2

In my kitchen, we have a table with four chairs.  It’s quite an ordinary table… not especially fancy, not especially ratchet (surprising for an apartment full of jobless graduates and students), but there is one ratchet chair amongst the four which I always avoid.  Every time I sit on it, it tilts, and I look down to find one leg at an alarmingly awkward angle.

The first time I noticed this, I alerted my roommates, and rushed to my zebra-print tool kit, which randomly appeared in my closet a few months ago, to search for a wrench, but was unsuccessful.  Thus, the chair has remained lame for weeks upon weeks, and somehow, by the grace of God, neither me nor any of my three roommates have gone tumbling to the laminate with the sudden collapse of the untended limb.

Finally, though, I decided enough was enough.  I was sure I had pliers, and reasoned that a pair of pliers would be more adept than my fingers at re-screwing the wanton bolts into place.  Of course, the moment I overturned the chair and began the operation, my blind roommate appeared in the doorway, in search of her coffee and bagel on the table.  As the way was currently blocked, I hurriedly called out a warning to stop, before my patient was injured further and I would need something more than pliers to repair the damage to both furniture and roommate.  I handed her the  sought food items, then returned to my work.  A brief examination revealed that, actually, two of the legs had loose bolts, so I attended to both, and after a good deal of growling and difficulty, the task was complete.

My ratchet chair now stands unevenly, but with all four legs firmly in place, and I am very thankful that my toolkit had pliers, and that they can serve, at lease semi-successfully, as a makeshift wrench.  Three cheers for tools, and three cheers for chairs that won’t give way at any moment.