I
view seeing beautiful as a choice that I make each day, each hour,
sometimes each minute. To me, seeing beautiful is perspective on what I
have to be grateful for. As my husband always says when I'm seeing
less than beautiful,
"We're too blessed to be stressed!" The truth in those words, combined
with the big cheesy grin on his face as he stands with his arms spread
open, hinting to me, "See?!"can pull me from my anxious state. Well,
most of the time.
See, by nature, I'm a bit of a worrywart. I like to have my
i's dotted and my
t's
crossed (and my bed made, and my picture frames straight, and the
labels in my pantry and refrigerator facing forward... wait, but
everyone is like that- right?).
As much as it pains me to say it, I like to have control. But God
reminds me daily, that HE is the one in control- and I am much better
off because of it. I see what happens in my life when I try to take
control, and it's not pretty. And I
feel what it's like when I hand over control, and it feels like
peace.
But seeing beautiful is not always easy. And it's almost never natural.
In January, my mom was taken to the hospital after several worrisome episodes of
dimentia and amnesia,
all within a few-hours time period. In the five minutes that I was able
to speak to her on the phone after she was admitted, she repeated,
multiple times, "And how did I get here again?"
I immediately thought the worst: Stoke. Tumor. Alzheimer's. My mom, who
turned 63 in November, somehow went from being exuberant, energetic, and
fiesty, to confused, forgetful, and distressed- all in a matter of a
few hours.
The controlling side of me immediately called a friend who is a nurse to
ask what could possibly cause such a sudden onset of memory loss. Then I
searched the computer and came up with a list of suggestions and tests
that I wanted the doctors to hear out and perform. Yes- I was
that person. Because a third-grade teacher with medical background gained from watching
Grey's Anatomy and
Private Practice
could surely shed light onto a new diagnosis that the neurologists and
cardiologists hadn't thought of on their own. Of course... that makes
perfect sense. Or at least that's what my not-so-trusting and
slightly-too-controlling side believed.
I'm also a DOer. I can't just sit around and wait. Or, as I'm learning,
the not-so-seeing-beautiful side of me is. Thankfully, I have a husband
who see's beautiful when I can't. Or won't. He puts perspective into my
worry, without taking away from the realness of my fear. Which is also
part of what seeing beautiful means to me- being able to put yourself
into someone else's shoes and respond in a way that works for
them, regardless of how
you may want someone to handle that same situation with you.
So in my fear, I tried to let go of the control, and trust.
The next afternoon, after a clear CT Scan, MRI, Carotid Artery Test,
EKG, EEG, and Electrolyte test, my mom's sudden memory loss was
diagnosed as
Transient Global Amnesia- a condition that is rare, has no known permanent side affects, and is unlikely to ever occur again.
What an unbelievable relief! I was suddenly back to thanking the Lord and seeing beautiful again.
. . .But I'm not really proud of that. Because as much as I'd like to
say I was 100% trusting that things would turn out okay and that God was
in control, in actuality, what I did in those hours was let my
circumstances determine my perspective, and de-fuel my faith.
Seeing beautiful, for me, would be getting the chance to go back and get a do-over on those hours, and really trust,
despite the end result, that God was in control, and that He was
fighting the battles for me, and my mom, and truly believe that all we
had to do was be still.
Maybe I needed a reminder that circumstances don't determine who God is. And circumstances can't determine where my trust lies.
I do know, far beyond a maybe, that I am SO thankful to have my mom back. I'm thankful I had the following weekend to
cook with her-
something we always talk about doing, but don't do enough. I'm thankful
that she can again tell me stories with details so precise, they could
make a blind person see. I'm thankful she could do her little jig when I
showed up at her door on that cooking-day Saturday, and then give the
same excitement when my sister and her boys showed up just a little
later.
So I'm starting again, today. And tomorrow. And the next day. And
hopefully everyday after- to remember that seeing beautiful is handing
over the things that I can't control to the One who can, and will-
despite how I may see the outcome from my own little perspective.