What’s a chapter of your life you’d title “The Hard Years” — and what got you through it?
I call my teenage years “The Hard Years” of my life. My parents divorced when I was twelve, leaving Mom with seven kids ranging from sixteen down to three. She had another child when I was thirteen. Mom had custody of us, and, unfortunately, she made some selfish and short-sighted decisions.
I was blessed with one older brother and sister, three younger sisters, and two younger brothers. I have to admit that I didn’t think of the youngest as blessings at the time.
My siblings, especially those closest to me in age, went through the tough things with me. (My older sister Cindy is two years older, and my sister Amy is a year younger than me.)
My sister Cindy was like a second mom to all of us, making sure we all got ready in time for school.
We moved the summer after my sophomore year and started going to a new school. Amy was with me. Midway through my junior year, Mom moved us to another town. Again, my sister Amy was with me, hating the new school as much as I did.
Hard things are so much easier when someone goes through them with you.
Go on a walk today and share a photo of something that catches your eye.
I went on a hike today along a muddy logging road in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Wildflowers always catch my eye. Most of the flowers I see are ones I have seen multiple times over the years – lupine, obeyed daisies, and salsify.
Today, a plant from the pea family caught my eye. I saw breadroot scurf pea for the first time last year. It is also called prairie turnip or large Indian breadroot. The scientific name is Pediomelumesculentum.
The plant grows in grasslands and in dry woodlands of central North America. The starchy root is edible. I read that it was an important food for Native Americans.
What experiences in life helped you grow the most?
The hardest experiences in my life helped me grow the most. I’ve had difficult experiences as an adult, but the difficulties of my childhood developed character that has lasted a lifetime.
I didn’t have a stable childhood. We moved a lot. My parents separated a few times and divorced when I was twelve. I spent my teenage years living with mom and seven siblings. Mom made impulsive, selfish decisions that weren’t in our best interests.
The experience of being poor taught me that money and material things are not the most important things in life. Love is more important. Being a good person is more important. Finding purpose and meaning are more important.
Being poor taught me the value of hard work but also of self-denial. I can do without and still be happy. I can delay satisfaction. Good things are worth waiting for.
When we were poor, there were people who looked down on us. I learned that my worth was not dependent on social status. I am a beloved child of God. He accepted me as I am. He gave me the strength to endure hardships. He gave me hope.
As a child, I experienced shame and embarrassment. Those experiences didn’t define me. I rose above them. I persevered. I became determined to have a better life.
Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.
Romans 5:3-5
I hear about parents who do everything they can to make sure their kids never have to struggle or fail. They’re not doing them any favors. Struggling helps children grow into resilient adults. Failure teaches kids to keep trying, to persist.
As I write this, I am sitting in a special chair with my face down. This is not my normal posture. So no, my life today is not what I pictured a year ago. It is not even what I pictured two months ago!
Two months ago, I was blissfully ignorant about my vision. I knew I wasn’t seeing as well as I used to but didn’t think it was a big deal. At my annual eye examination in November, I found out that I have a form of macular degeneration called retinoschisis. I had vitrectomy surgery on my left eye six days ago, which involves removing the vitreous fluid and placing gas in the eye. To ensure success, I must maintain a facedown posture for a week to keep the glass bubble at the back of my eye.
I had so much anxiety going into this procedure. First, there’s the creepiness of having anyone mess with my eye. Secondly, I’m an active person. How could I stay facedown for a week? I feared that I would get a stiff neck or sore back. Mostly, I worried about the mental and emotional toll it would take on me. I asked friends and family for prayers.
Thankfully, I have not gone stir crazy 😜 yet. I get up for a few minutes every hour. I have gone for a couple of short walks. I entertain myself by reading, listening to audiobooks, watching TV, and playing my daily word games. One of the first things I did was to listen to the first two sections of George Orwell’s 1984 but don’t want to sink further into dystopia (the present is bad enough). I am reading The Firekeepers Daughter (Angeline Boulley) and listening to All the Colors of the Dark (Chris Whitaker).
Sleeping on my stomach has been awkward, but I have been able to sleep. In addition to the chair, I rented a raised horseshoe shaped headrest. My head tends to slip off of it, and I’ve been waking up with earaches. 😴
Today is my last day of “posturing,” but it is not the end of my recovery. The gas bubble will likely take 2-4 weeks to clear. It will take a few months for my vision to stabilize. Currently, all I can see is a blur. It’s like looking through water.
There are life lessons for me in this unexpected challenge. Don’t take any part of my health for granted. Be grateful that my mind is still active and that I have the patience to endure this. Be empathetic because other people are going through much worse situations.
👁 👁 👁
From The Opening Door, a Celtic prayer:
Be blessing my face, Lord; be blessing my eyes. May all my eye looks on be blessed and be bright, my neighbors, my loved ones be blessed in Your sight.
I love nature and make a habit of observing it. The beauty of nature and the varieties of animals and plants populating our planet bring me joy. Nature is where I find peace.
We live fairly close to a state park that has a “Wildlife Loop” where we can see bison, pronghorns, wild burros, bighorn sheep, deer, and elk. This spring, we went to see baby bison, which are called red dogs because of their cinnamon color. Babies of any species bring me joy.
I am fortunate to live close to many good trails because my favorite way to observe nature is on foot. When I hike, I often stop to look at wildflowers or to listen to birds or squirrels. I also look for cool rocks.
I have been observing and identifying wildflowers for about fifteen years. I feel joy when I find a new flower. I went on a trip all by myself to search for fairy slipper orchids this year. When I saw them, I was delighted!
I love learning about plants and animals. Nature is good for my mental health!
Innermost Being 