The grace of God on my life feels overwhelming as I am putting food in bags to be delivered to the food bank at the end of the day. Cranberry tuna, sweet potato salad, goat cheese pecan salad, all sorts of delectable treats are donated to the local poor every night. One in eight people in the world are chronically malnourished. I have this abundance of wonderful food all around me. I am well aware that I barely escaped from being on the receiving end of this chain. Instead, I am part of the giving.
It took the store ten years to be able to open in my area. A very strong crony organization with members that have exactly zero education and experience in economy governs local development, or more exactly, the lack thereof, and any changes must be approved by their board. There are towns that are trying to escape its iron clasp. As I watch all the food that will benefit the economically weakest people in town I wonder what this ridiculous board was against? Organic, high quality food for the homeless? Support for local farmers, fishermen, and schools? More year round jobs with the best benefits I have ever heard of? And a job for me…
As I am deciding where to take my life from here it becomes clear that I need to apply to the graduate program where I have been taking classes. God's provision is all around me.
"I have never heard of a graduate math program that would accept someone with no undergrad credits in math!"
An admission counselor at an engineering program is looking up the program that I want to to enter. I am trying to figure out how to get into an engineering school with a degree in liberal arts. She is shocked to learn that yes, the number one qualifier for this particular program is doing well in three of their classes and undergrad degrees don't matter. If I finish my math degree I will be considered for a civil engineering degree. A long road to take. When I get home at midnight I watch online classes on trigonometry and calculus. It will take me years to get where I want to be.
All the way up to my husband's death fear had been the main denominator to all important decisions I had made and I had no idea! In my mind I see myself at eighteen years of age standing in front of the engineering school where my father got his degree. Large glass windows supported by steel columns and clean lines of modern architecture tempt the core of my being. At the same time, just the thought of becoming anything like my father in any area sends me reeling. In the brokenness from the abuse I suffered from him I am not able to separate my feelings from reality. I don't really know who I am. All I know is that I want my life completely different than what it has been. I walk away from the school and end up enrolling in an English and Music teaching program.
I love English. Most people cannot detect my accent even though I did not start learning until I was fourteen (although I am sure that this blog is full of Czenglisms LOL!)
I love music. When I lay my harp on my shoulder and the music resonates through every part of my body I feel like heaven fell. My cherry harp's soft tones sweetly talk to my thoughts. My walnut harp's muted sound comforts and strengthens. My celtic harp's carbon fiber strings encompass the most resonance of them all, caress my soul, and envelope me in beauty head to toe.
But then… I am sitting in a geometry class I have to take for my license. I have been putting about twenty hours of work per week into homework. As I toil on Euclidian proofs and am able to deliver a perfect construction of a heptadecagon I KNOW… nothing has ever challenged me like this before and nothing else has felt so satisfying. Nothing has ever touched this one place inside me that nobody else has been able to understand. This IS me!
"Well, it is really early and there is nobody in student services yet…"
A girl at a switchboard is surprised someone would be calling at 8:30 during summer vacation. Yes, it is early. It is 2:30 am for me and I am trying to get my transcript from a school that is on the other side of the world so that I can apply to a math program. It is early, and it is never too late. My life has fundamentally changed. It does not matter what it takes. I need to keep making the changes that will take me where I need to go.
"You little idiot!" I do have a name Dad, and this is not it!
No Dad, I am not an idiot!
I was made just a little lower than the angels. And crowned with glory and honor. And that's that.
I love this new trail the collision with tick borne diseases and mold set me on. There seems to be healing for every wound I have ever suffered, the crooked is made straight, and the rough places plane. And I am enjoying every second of it!
Friday, July 25, 2014
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Emergency
I am thankful to every one of you who has taken the time to read my blog. I have a huge request now. There is a family from Canada at Sponaugle with ten year old quadruplets and all of the children have Lyme disease. I personally met them while I was there. The family has lost their business and home already. It does not get much worse than this. They desperately need your help. Please donate at:
http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/judah-vs-lyme/107787
http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/judah-vs-lyme/107787
Thursday, July 17, 2014
The Quadrature of the Lune
An itchy red spot on my skin marks the inevitable. I was bitten by a mosquito. I knew that the day would come when I would get bitten again and it happens to be today. The sun is setting and I am standing on the beach watching the show. Neon orange streaks spread all over the sky evenly fading into softer grayish pink hues above my head. Olive greens and browns of beach grasses follow the curvature of dunes and the lone osprey nest raises an upside down exclamation mark against the sky. Rhythmic swishing of ocean waves behind me cradles my soul. As I take in the unfolding spectacle of colors the nature set before me tonight I wonder why life is the way it is. The colors are produced by a reflection of light. In other words, the beam has to break in a certain way in order for me to see the particular color. I had to be broken in a certain way in order to enjoy it the way I do. I soak this harmony of colors and sounds into every pore of my being. This gorgeous beauty and the bite are both part of my life all at the same time.
I have been treating mosquito borne Protomyxzoa with Purify by The Life Tree for over a month now and don't get a Herxheimer reaction anymore. I used to feel air hunger about half an hour after taking the tincture. Mosquitoes in this area can also carry West Nile Virus and I decide to not worry about it. I simply have to take life one thing at a time and not fret about things that have not happened.
My mind along with my eyes wonder along each streak.
"I am here to separate the human side from the business side."
A response I got after I explained at work how ill I was and that I needed more treatment. Two days later there was a letter in the mail telling me that I would be terminated from my job if I failed to report back in longer than five business days. Well, I did not report. I couldn't. I have long learned that other people's actions and responses are not about me. They are about them. Besides, I can never be a teacher again anyways. Schools get closed for the summer without air-conditioning and the humid air just sits there creating mold. I cannot be around mold. Prior to my collapse I did not connect the leaky roof and moldy ceiling, the leaky windows and the mold around them, and the mold behind filing cabinets in one of the classrooms with my ill health. Now I know.
I feel like I don't owe anything to anyone at this job. I did the absolute best I could as I always do. I was the best teacher I possibly could be. I was not perfect, nobody is, but I gave it all I had. I feel like I can emotionally move onto the next stage of my life and leave what happened at my previous job behind me. Somehow I feel the termination has nothing to do with my performance but no need to guess. I must be busy trying to figure out where to go next.
It is week two of my Protomyxzoa treatment. Standing in a line for an interview I wonder how I am going to do this. I have been here for two hours now and am near fainting. How can I possibly hold a job? I get through the interview and don't get hired. I know that right now I cannot work so no harm done. I get hired on a second try a week later. I will be starting at the very bottom at an upscale grocery store. I will be working alongside some of my former students.
Week four into Protomyxzoa treatment I become the salad bar girl. Since I am not a mosquito and I will not be biting people and sucking their blood I feel OK starting this job. Protomyxzoa is not contagious so my conscience is clear about working with food. For everyone's safety I tell my PCP during my visit and he does not see a problem. Onto the salad bar!
The sun that entertains me at the beach plays with colors on "my" salad bar too. When the beams of setting sun light the vegetables the rainbow of colors becomes even more beautiful. I cannot believe I have been able to do this. I run all day and lift heavy tubs full of salads, smile at customers, and with glee go overboard for every need they might have. The store is very generous with samples. I love sharing my thankfulness and love for my new job with everyone I meet. I feel like I can trust all of my bosses, love the products, and find the whole place so exciting! My friends were worried that my sorry little brain would not get enough stimulation at a job like this. Well, I have come to consider this a poorly paid therapy. It is said that exercise detoxes the body. I am a living example of this. Even though I may come with joint pain I leave pain free after the shift. How amazing! The store was just rebuilt so no leaky ceilings or windows here! A perfect place for me.
I have become friends with some of the customers already. The employees are here because they want to. Everybody does their job. Yes there are problems, like there are everywhere. But they seem to be so minor! My recovering brain and nerves need this no-stress-all-fun environment right now. One of the cooks is teaching me her side of the house. She is a painter and taught painting classes at our local college. We talk about painting and art over pots of soup, grilled chicken, and mac and cheese. I ended up getting an A in my last math class I took at a top university. I am able to understand the quadrature of the lune. And at the same time I am having a hard time parking the car between two white lines. Now that I feel physically better my nerve damage has become more apparent. I do have some vision and hearing problems. My sense of space has been affected. I feel like my memory and word recall have slightly improved. All the more this need for paid fun and therapy. Go Red Sox? No! Go salad bar!
The moon helps the street lights find my way to the car when I get out after my shift. My second helpful lune. I know that I am going home to a complete disarray as most of my energy is consumed working. On the home front I basically only put out fires of the greatest emergencies. My two terriers gifted me with stinky pee pads while I was away. I glance over the piles of paperwork, dirty dishes, and clean laundry. As I fall asleep I am thankful for all of this mess. I am thankful that I can worry about having piles of clean laundry. Those are good worries to have.
I have been treating mosquito borne Protomyxzoa with Purify by The Life Tree for over a month now and don't get a Herxheimer reaction anymore. I used to feel air hunger about half an hour after taking the tincture. Mosquitoes in this area can also carry West Nile Virus and I decide to not worry about it. I simply have to take life one thing at a time and not fret about things that have not happened.
My mind along with my eyes wonder along each streak.
"I am here to separate the human side from the business side."
A response I got after I explained at work how ill I was and that I needed more treatment. Two days later there was a letter in the mail telling me that I would be terminated from my job if I failed to report back in longer than five business days. Well, I did not report. I couldn't. I have long learned that other people's actions and responses are not about me. They are about them. Besides, I can never be a teacher again anyways. Schools get closed for the summer without air-conditioning and the humid air just sits there creating mold. I cannot be around mold. Prior to my collapse I did not connect the leaky roof and moldy ceiling, the leaky windows and the mold around them, and the mold behind filing cabinets in one of the classrooms with my ill health. Now I know.
I feel like I don't owe anything to anyone at this job. I did the absolute best I could as I always do. I was the best teacher I possibly could be. I was not perfect, nobody is, but I gave it all I had. I feel like I can emotionally move onto the next stage of my life and leave what happened at my previous job behind me. Somehow I feel the termination has nothing to do with my performance but no need to guess. I must be busy trying to figure out where to go next.
It is week two of my Protomyxzoa treatment. Standing in a line for an interview I wonder how I am going to do this. I have been here for two hours now and am near fainting. How can I possibly hold a job? I get through the interview and don't get hired. I know that right now I cannot work so no harm done. I get hired on a second try a week later. I will be starting at the very bottom at an upscale grocery store. I will be working alongside some of my former students.
Week four into Protomyxzoa treatment I become the salad bar girl. Since I am not a mosquito and I will not be biting people and sucking their blood I feel OK starting this job. Protomyxzoa is not contagious so my conscience is clear about working with food. For everyone's safety I tell my PCP during my visit and he does not see a problem. Onto the salad bar!
The sun that entertains me at the beach plays with colors on "my" salad bar too. When the beams of setting sun light the vegetables the rainbow of colors becomes even more beautiful. I cannot believe I have been able to do this. I run all day and lift heavy tubs full of salads, smile at customers, and with glee go overboard for every need they might have. The store is very generous with samples. I love sharing my thankfulness and love for my new job with everyone I meet. I feel like I can trust all of my bosses, love the products, and find the whole place so exciting! My friends were worried that my sorry little brain would not get enough stimulation at a job like this. Well, I have come to consider this a poorly paid therapy. It is said that exercise detoxes the body. I am a living example of this. Even though I may come with joint pain I leave pain free after the shift. How amazing! The store was just rebuilt so no leaky ceilings or windows here! A perfect place for me.
I have become friends with some of the customers already. The employees are here because they want to. Everybody does their job. Yes there are problems, like there are everywhere. But they seem to be so minor! My recovering brain and nerves need this no-stress-all-fun environment right now. One of the cooks is teaching me her side of the house. She is a painter and taught painting classes at our local college. We talk about painting and art over pots of soup, grilled chicken, and mac and cheese. I ended up getting an A in my last math class I took at a top university. I am able to understand the quadrature of the lune. And at the same time I am having a hard time parking the car between two white lines. Now that I feel physically better my nerve damage has become more apparent. I do have some vision and hearing problems. My sense of space has been affected. I feel like my memory and word recall have slightly improved. All the more this need for paid fun and therapy. Go Red Sox? No! Go salad bar!
The moon helps the street lights find my way to the car when I get out after my shift. My second helpful lune. I know that I am going home to a complete disarray as most of my energy is consumed working. On the home front I basically only put out fires of the greatest emergencies. My two terriers gifted me with stinky pee pads while I was away. I glance over the piles of paperwork, dirty dishes, and clean laundry. As I fall asleep I am thankful for all of this mess. I am thankful that I can worry about having piles of clean laundry. Those are good worries to have.
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