Tag Archives: God

Upside-Down and Coming to an End

It’s been a while since I last wrote, but between working a part-time job, being a mother, trying to figure out a lot of things, and now, finally, student teaching, I’ve been a little sidetracked. This past fall and winter have been a tumultuous time for me.

I hope you didn’t miss my writing too much. I have to admit I have missed writing!

To begin to explain why I call it tumultuous, riotous, turbulent, or even stormy, I would need to begin when life began to become almost topsy-turvy… And it started in August. 

My plans for graduating in December with my special education degree was screeched to a halt when it was discovered my counselor did not prepare me or inform me to take the exams and apply for student teaching for the fall semester. I was supposed to have done that back in the spring. All they could do was, “Oops. You’ll have to take a semester off and do all of it now for the spring and begin student-teaching then.” Needless to say,  I was pretty upset. I had no choice but to take a semester off. At first, I thought it was going to be an uneventful time while I waited to begin back up again… Boy, was I wrong.

Two months later, I was heartbroken to find out I had lost a dear uncle to heart disease. 

Thankfully, I had the chance to fly out with my kids and be with my family to celebrate my uncle’s wonderful sense of humor, his love of God, and his amazing life. I am also thankful my kids had the wonderful opportunity to have met their great-uncle the summer before, and in how my son developed a really wonderful connection with him.

It shook his world to find out that his friend, his great-uncle, who loved to hear his ideas and stories, was gone. I told him, “He’s in heaven, and we’ll see him soon.” “Yeah.” he’d say somberly and then smile, “Then I can tell him all sorts of stories then, right?”

I told my kids of how fun he was when I was growing up, and how I recently discovered the pivotal role his family was in helping me get the diagnosis of my deafness. They encouraged my mother of how she could help me, taking me to the University of Arizona for testing,  which led to the beginning of how I became who I am today. Wow. God puts the right people in our lives at the right time, and now I am just finding out about it.

I had just been home two weeks from being with my family for my uncle’s memorial service when I heard the unexpected news that a wonderful childhood friend of mine had died. I had so many wonderful memories with him and had hopes of seeing him when I plan to go celebrate my graduation from my Master’s program. We had even talked once about having him do my hair, as that was his profession, when I was to meet up with him. It still feels surreal to know he’s gone. Yet, I am thankful we were able to reconnect when we did, even though it was virtually through Facebook.

Fortunately, Christmas was a blessed time with snow and my dad spending the special Holiday with us.  Yet, right about that time, I was beginning to feel another change was about to happen. It wasn’t in regards to student teaching in the spring… But it was  something related to what happened a little over 16 years ago.

A piece of glass, which a doctor, 15 years ago, couldn’t remove from my wrist, was left inside after an effort was made to remove it. The glass was from the windshield of the cars involved in the life changing accident a year before this moment. It was estimated there were five pieces of glass inside that part of my wrist, and he was able to remove most of them. I can remember him saying, “Glass is tricky. It hides in blood very easily!” He did try to get them all, but as he tried to find the last elusive piece, I could remember feeling the anesthesia wearing off. He decided that was better to let the body do what it does best. “Your body will work to get rid of it. We were able to get those other ones out because your body had pushed them up. It’ll do the same for that last one in time.”  I can remember thinking, “Oh, okay. Then I’ll probably see it come up in a couple of months and get it removed.”

In the beginning, I do admit I was nervous to have anyone rub that part of my wrist when I went for a manicure or when I wore anything tight around that wrist, but as time went by, I had begun to feel that it was always going to be a part of my body.

In the past several months, it had become something I couldn’t ignore. I’ll just say it’s not a very nice feeling, and it reminds me a bit of having a stone stuck in your shoe – But it’s one you can’t get out.

In the middle of all this happening, my husband recently moved into a job that works really well for him, but it had meant I would need to wait to be able to see a doctor, as a new job meant new benefits. He had been anxious for me, but I assured him I would be fine, since we saw that it wouldn’t take long to wait for benefits to kick in… But I’ll be honest and say it was hard to be patient!

Wearing a brace had helped decrease the pain, and I had to decide to hold off on doing any crocheting until it did get taken care of. That’s hard for an artist to do!

I had a really rough day, a week ago, with being so irritated with everything going on in my life, and the annoying pain in my wrist was beginning to feel like the one that would break the camel’s back. I had so badly wanted to vent and be irritated, yet I knew it wasn’t going to solve anything. Instead, I began to pray and ask God,

“What is it, exactly, that I need?”

I realized it was Strength and Patience.

“Yeah, you think?”I thought sarcastically.

I knew now I need the strength to stand as the turbulant winds blew around me, and patience to wait out the storm. The storm will end. Winter doesn’t always last. There is almost always the bitter hard storm before the first of spring comes, and I knew I had to learn to wait..

Today, I was finally able to go see a doctor about my wrist. I was afraid, after 16 years of living with this invisible “hitchhiker” in my body, that it really wasn’t there and it was all in my head. But, after the x-ray, I was able to see this piece of glass I have been waiting for years to be free of! A little 2 mm rectangular piece of glass sat on top of one of my wrist bones just under the very layer of my skin. “It looks like some nerves are sitting right above it, keeping it right there, and it’s causing you all that pain and numbness. We can easily get that out.” He decides, “We could even do it this coming Monday. How about that?”  I ecstatically signed, “YES!” My interpreter resounded my excitement as she interpreted for me.

My son, who was with me, said a really wonderful thing as we left the office. “Mom, on Monday, you can finally be done with that car accident.”

What an amazing thought. When Monday comes, I will no longer have to wonder when it would come out and, in a sense, release me to heal completely. It is an overwhelming peace in knowing it I can begin to heal COMPLETELY.  I know I will always have scars, but I will be thankful when I see them – It is through them I will remember of God’s grace, strength, and protection.


Moving at His Own Pace

Lately, I have been so amazed at my husband.

I struggle with my own monsters in life – Anxiety, Depression, Deafness, and other little things.

But, I look at my husband, and his resilience amazes me. He doesn’t always have a positive outlook on his growing blindness, but he still fights through.

Yesterday, as we walked three miles to our favorite shopping center, he walked along side me, laughing and teasing me as he held my hand while using his other hand to feel the path before him with his cane. He didn’t depend on me completely, but my eyes and words of what was going on around us just supplemented what he had sensually.

Before we had begun the walk,  I noticed him focusing intently as he stepped down the stairs of our apartment. I thought, “He must be counting the steps.” I counted as well. When we reached the ground level, I shared my discovery of each flight being 6 steps. He then shared, “Yes, and the very bottom one in the back flight of stairs has 7.” I never knew that.

An ambulance siren went off by us, I couldn’t hear it, but he did. I could see it, and I told him what direction it went and guessed which hospital it was probably heading. He agreed and hoped it was not a serious situation.

He signed to me, as I had left my hearing aids out. The warm day and the sweat that would likely come makes it hard to keep my loose ear molds in, thus making it even harder to hear. “Leave them out,” he encouraged, before we headed out for our hike. “I can sign, and the kids can, too. You can put them in your backpack and put them in once we get to the mall.”

He wasn’t afraid of my Deafness, and it was fortunate that I could speak clearly enough despite it. That was a huge asset for us, although, he kindly informed me in a tease, “You sound a bit like a pirate when you talk without your hearing aids.”

“Argh!” I teased back. “Now I just need to dress like one!”

My kids loved the idea… Maybe one day, I will.

An overgrown bush edged the sidewalk, and his hand was on my shoulder as I guided him through the narrow passage way. “Duck!” I ducked down to let him feel just how far down he needed to go to avoid the overgrown branches. We cleared it. “They really need to trim those branches on that bush!” I exclaimed.  His exasperated expression showed his agreement. Running into branches unaware is not something he liked doing.

We walked and I shared with him of the scene around us. He was having a good vision day and could see bright colors, but no definite shape. “The sky is so blue! I’m loving it! I haven’t seen such a blue sky in so long.” It’s moments like this where I remember to appreciate my sight.

I notice horse manure on the sidewalk, and I tell him. It wasn’t too surprising to see this, as there was a horse showing arena not far where we were. He laughs, I didn’t know why. I was chuckling for a different reason, though I don’t remember what for. He later told me of something the kids had said of the discovery of the horse manure on the sidewalk. “Who pooped in the middle of the sidewalk!?” one of them had said. It was my turn to laugh.  I tell them, “It’s horse poop!” My daughter looks at me precariously, and signs, “A horse walked this way?  Why?” I reminded her of the Rodeo/show grounds now far from us. “Oooh.” She signed. “That makes sense.”

My husband then signs to me that my eight year old son is cracking jokes about poop. I rolled my eyes. He’s being such a typical boy.

We get to the shopping mall, and I tell him of a new Italian pizza place that opened up. “Want to try it?” I ask. He signs back, “Sure!”

At the restaurant, I described to him what the place looked like, and we shared an amazing pizza, which the kids each had their own opinion of the Italian flair of their American favorite. My husband and I loved it. His sense of taste and smell had heightened since he lost his vision. He signs to me of what he can taste and can smell. I smiled. My sense of smell had long been muted to many sinus infections, and I appreciated his perspective.

At home, he can’t do a whole lot, but he does try.

He helps by doing his laundry, which he has a system to doing. He washes his shirts and pants separately. I help him fold his clothes in the way he likes it. He wears only black and white shirts and has only five to six button up shirts for work. His shirts are alternated black and white, and I tell him which one is on the top so he knows. When he hangs up his shirts, I tell him which one I give him, and he hangs them in order of the days he likes to wear them.

Lately, he has also been exploring his Scottish heritage, and he will ask me to search for something online. I will find a site and share with him in what I find. I read out loud to him, and if there is a picture, I try to describe it to him.

This is one thing he struggles with. He wishes he could see pictures. Even when he inverts the color, which works well for him when he wants to read something enlarged, the pictures don’t look like something he can recognize. Even a picture I took of him, he struggles to see. “Do I look good?” He asks. “Of course, you do!” He had lost a tremendous amount of weight over the past year. I was proud of him for doing so. I explained this to him. “Even my hat looks good on me?” I can tell he struggles with his image. How can you not when you can’t even see yourself?

Another thing about him that I admire –  He is still working. He has kept his job for the past ten years, even despite his gradual vision loss. They’ve, thankfully, been accommodating.

Yet… He’s facing another mountain now. He might have to look for another job, which scares him. He is fighting despite it. He is also now accepting the truth. “I am going blind.” He shudders at the thought of not finding something he can do with his blindness. He hates the thought of going on Disability, but he’s now realizing that might be a reality.

Despite all he’s facing, I still admire and love him. He is trying, and there are people out there who won’t try as much as he does while having a disability.

As I end this… I ask you to please pray for him. Keep him in your thoughts. Ask that God will lift him up and give him hope. He has yet to experience that.

Thank you.


To My Mother: She Heard Me and Held Me

In the 6 years I’ve had this blog, I’ve not once written anything in honor of my amazing mother. Well, today that’s what I’m doing. It’s to be a perfect tribute to a woman who took on the extra mile of being a mother to a deaf and partially blind child… And it’s Mother’s Day.

To start, my mom was a very young woman, just in her first year of her marriage to my dad, when she became pregnant with me. To top it off, she became sick with German Measles in the first trimester.

It is also called Reubella, and if you know about it, you can understand that it is a terrifying situation for a woman that early in her pregnancy. She could have chosen to terminate it, knowing there would be a good chance I would be severely disabled, but she didn’t. My mom had faith that God would protect me and things would be fine. She trusted God’s will, no matter what that would mean.

I’m glad she did.

When I was born, my mom was thrilled to find me healthy and whole. She didn’t know of my deafness or of the weak retinas I gained from Reubella. I grew, cried, and ate like any baby. I babbled and played, which didn’t reveal any of my disablities, until I was around three years old. I was still babbling, and a friend of my mom hinted, “I think your daughter is deaf. Maybe you should get her hearing tested?”

That meant my family, which now included my little brother, would need to drive down to a bigger city hours away from home for me to have the test done. If I remember correctly, from what my mom had shared with me, it was in Tucson, Arizona, at the University of Arizona, where I got my hearing tested.  They were able to confirm what everyone was wondering.

“Yes, your daughter is deaf.  She has a severe to profound hearing loss.”

That shook my family’s world, and we all moved down to Tucson to give me the best access to services to help me get hearing aids, an education, and family support.

I went to a school in Tucson called “Clinic for Hearing Impaired Children.” Now, the term “hearing impaired” went out years ago as it was considered not “politically correct”, but it was the ’80’s, and people were still learning how to help deaf and hard of hearing people gain a better quality of life and education.  I learned “Total Communication,” which is the method of teaching sign language while teaching how to speak and understand the English language.

While I was going there, my mom came every day and watched me in my classes through a one way window. She took the time to learn the signs and continue what I learned in school at home.

I wish I could say that was common with deaf children, but sadly, it isn’t. Most of the time, parents send their deaf children to a residental state school for the deaf and let the dorm parents take care of them. A few of them took the time and effort to learn sign so they could communicate with their children, and I do know a few of them.

As I grew up, my mom was there being my “coach” on the swim team, my interpreter at church, and my advocate as I was mainstreamed in the public schools. She even became my teacher as she homeschooled me for a couple of years. She taught me to stand up for myself. She ingrained Philippians 4:13 in to my head. “Just because you are deaf, it doesn’t mean you can’t do anything.”

At 11 years old, I lost partial vision in my right eye. I went to eye doctors and specialists and found out that I had a tear in my retina in the central part of my vision. Once it healed, it left a permanent scar in the center of my vision. My eye became lazy and permanently shifted to the right, giving me the ability to use the remaining of my vision to see some things around me.

That didn’t stop me.

I went to Hawaii with my Girl Scout troop, and my mom was my offical interpreter for the trip. What a blast! She encouraged me when I found my love for signing songs. When it came to deciding college, she was all for me going 2000 miles from home to Gallaudet University. What mom would do that?! She knew it was the right school for me.

Now as a mom, she has been a huge support and friend when I went through rough patches, and in turn, I was able to be there for her when she went through hers.  We are miles away from each other, but thanks to technology, we visit online almost every day, and we do video chats to share how we’re doing.

All of that…. Is my Mom. God blessed me in having an amazing Mom, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.


Little Prayers in the Wind

Yesterday morning I decided to try the boots again. This time I wore some nice thick cotton socks in a dark blue, which is my favorite color, with them. My feet were snug inside my boots, and I could tell the difference from the first time I wore them.

It was a beautiful morning with a temperature around the low 50’s, warranting the need of just a light jacket for the hike. I had seen the forecast for the day earlier and saw there was some rain to come later in the morning. The clouds were far enough away, and I thought, “I should be able to get a couple of hours of hiking before the clouds come in.”

It’s amazing how the weather backfires on you.

Four miles in, I could feel my hands getting colder as I walked down the trail. I was listening to music on my headphones, and signing obliviously to the songs. The cold air was making it harder for me to sign, and the wind began to pick up strength. “Uh oh.” I turned around to see the gray clouds coming in faster than I had thought, and some southern clouds already began dropping rain onto the city below. The northern clouds had already creeped over the city and met with the southern clouds, covering the sun. From where I knew I was, it was a good couple of miles away from my car still. I started praying. The last thing I wanted was to be soaked in cold winter rain.

My ankles began to get sore. The top part of the boots were beginning to make things a little uncomfortable. The socks helped a little bit, but the pain had already set in. “Oh, God. Help me.”

Just then, a strong gush of wind pushed me further down the path. It felt like a strong hand telling me, “Keep going. I’ve got your back.”

I had to laugh at the timing. “God, I hear ya.” I pushed through the pain and climbed through the ups and downs. The amazing part was when I climbed up the steep inclines, my ankles felt better. When I climbed down the declines, the wind pushed me, keeping me from slowing down.

I began to recognize parts of the trail being close to end, and, suddenly, I saw something white fly past my face.

Shocked, I checked my phone to see what the temperatures were and was surprised to see the temperatures had dropped 20 degrees since I had been hiking. It was at 34 degrees, which explained my cold hands and the sight of snowflakes.

I had to smile. God knew I loved snow and could handle snowflakes better than rain drops.

I dug my heels into the trail and pushed through the last quarter mile while I buried my hands into my jacket and danced in my head to music from the Newsboys and Chris Tomlin.

I got to my car just as the snowflakes began to blow down even more, and I could see the city below getting their share of the cold mix of snow and possibly rain. What perfect timing, I thought. I was able to get into my warm car just in time, and when I arrived home, the snow had turned into sleet, which is definitely more uncomfortable to hike in.

God can answer even the littlest prayers.

It was also a reminder that I am not alone. My husband had told me, after the hike, that his friend, at hearing I had done this hike, was impressed with me for doing it alone. No, I had to disagree. I wasn’t alone. I had Him pushing me the whole way, making sure I didn’t slow down and get caught in the blustery wind and sleet. I managed to do 6 miles in 2 hours. That’s pretty amazing, if you ask me.

It’s simple as that. God is good. Even in the little things.


Nature is my Medicine

With my feet having recovered from the overzealous hike from the previous weekend, and after having a rough anxiety filled day yesterday, I felt I needed to get out and spend some time alone with my thoughts. With the kids in school, I returned to the Green Mountains, wearing my trusty old tennis shoes this time, and began the trek I had gone before. The mud from the previous weekend had finally dried up, making the way easier, and I also decided to leave my hearing aids behind for this hike. I plugged in my headphones and cranked up my music, but I made sure I stayed to the right side of the path so bikers could just pass me if they came.

I like being deaf, and I also like just listening to music. One thing I will mention – music does sound different without my hearing aids. I hear the low sounds more than I do the higher pitches. When I have my hearing aids, I can hear a higher range of high pitches, though there are some high pitches I will never hear.

I was walking along the long stretch of the trail where there were several forks in the road for other trails, and I decided I didn’t want to walk the 8.9 miles of the weekend before. One fork looked inviting, and without hesitation, I strode down that path feeling confident I would find my way back to my car before it was time to get my kids.

I stayed to the right of the narrower trail, even though I had not seen very many hikers or bikers. I found an easy pace and found that this trail was one I liked. It dipped, turned, ascended, and descended along the small mountainside. It was definitely not a boring path! A couple of bikers and hikers passed me in that hour I walked this peaceful and narrow trail, and a few even smiled and waved as they went by. They were enjoying it as much as I was.

When I came to a part where the current trail met up with main one that looped around the mountain, I realized my hike was almost over. A mile and a half more was to the parking lot, but after the past 4 miles, I was beginning to feel the need to rest and go home. It was then I realized I wasn’t feeling any symptoms of anxiety. I was relaxed, breathing normally, my heart rate was normal (elevated from hiking but not from panic), and it was such a relief. I felt such a joy and a peace, and I was so thankful to have some respite from what I was feeling lately.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. When I got home and was resting after having cleaned myself up, the symptoms flared up and I had no choice but to take some medicine to help calm the symptoms.

As I waited for the symptoms to ease, I began to think about what had transpired.

Being outside had always been a place of peace for me, and hiking allowed my body to be in that place. The mountain isn’t something that man made. God did. I had medicine to help me ease the symptoms of the Anxiety Attacks, but the true peace was when I was around God’s creation.

Oh, I wish I could stay out there in nature all the time, but that’s not what God wants me to do. I realize now I have to take what peace I found out there in Him and bring it into the crazy and man made life I live in.

Isaiah hiking picture

I found this verse today, as well as a wonderful quote from St. Augustine of Hippo, “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds rest in thee.”

I have to remember I’m made for Him, and my heart will find it’s rest in God.

It doesn’t mean these symptoms will go away and never come back. I am still struggling with the symptoms, even though I trust God to take care of me. He will hold me. My heart might race, my hands might shake, I might feel claustrophobic, but, despite all that, He will hold me.

I have to believe that. I’ll remember the peace I had on that trail, and I’ll try to bring it into my everyday life. But on days I struggle and need to breathe and find peace, I’ll just be out on that trail with music blasting into my deaf ears. Thankfully, I have that!


Getting Dirty

I’ve got less than a week and a half before I take on the biggest challenge I’ve yet to face physically, and I’ve never felt such a drive in my life as I do now. I’m going to be taking on a three mile run combined with military style obstacle courses… In the MUD! Can I do this? I certainly hope so. I’ve been running a lot this past month, although this past week I’ve been down with another flare up of tendinitis in my ankles. I’m not letting it stop me though.  With an ankle brace, I’m planning on attacking this challenge with whatever energy I have. I’ve had too many times in the past year when things have kept me from running or achieving something as big as this in my life, and I’m not about to let anything else ground me now. The awesome thing is I’m not doing this alone. My “brother” and his son are joining me to tackle this feat as well.

As I think about this challenge, I began to think about this as a life lesson…

Paul wrote about our life being a race, and I wonder how many times you can say you’ve been in a muddy obstacle course?  I have been through a real muddy obstacle course, and I can remember how much energy it takes to fight through all that muck. Sometimes life can be that way. Financial stress, parenthood challenges, family conflicts, and even marital conflicts are like muddy moments. They wear you out, don’t they?  I’ve cried out to God at those times saying, “Oh God, I don’t think I can make it through this!”

The difference between the physical obstacle course and the spiritual one is the inner energy doesn’t come from us, but God.

His strength is perfect when our strength is gone;
He’ll carry us when we can’t carry on.
Raised in His power, the weak become strong;
His strength is perfect, His strength is perfect.”  -Steven Curtis Chapman ~ “His Strength is Perfect”

Instead of looking for inner strength to find the energy to push through the muddy obstacle course, as I will find myself most likely doing in two weekends from today, we have to turn to God to give us the energy to push through.

Do I do that? Not always.

I admit that there are times when I fight to be able to do it on my own like a stubborn child not wanting her parent to help her reach for that beloved toy on the shelf. I’d end up sitting on the floor pouting and crying because I can’t do it myself.

Can you relate?  I know I do. I have that inner stubborn child still in me with the will to be independent from any kind of outside help.  Being hard of hearing has had me learn to depend on other people to be my ears at times, and it’s not always easy for me to accept that I do need that extra help from someone else sometimes.

Maybe that’s what God is trying to tell me…. “Hannah, stop trying to do it on your own! Let me help!”

That seems to be the theme this season in my life… I’m learning to “let go and let God”.


Music for Different Ears

I had the sad experience of having my beloved ipod stolen from me yesterday and it really made me realize how vital music plays in my life.

Its a tad ironic that it does since I have been born with a hearing loss, and music wouldn’t be naturally considered a part of my life, especially with my right ear is profoundly deaf. To help you understand what that means, there are four different levels of hearing loss; Mild, Moderate, Severe, and Profound, in that order. People who usually have moderate to slightly profound have found assistance through hearing aids to help them be able to get something out of the sounds around them. Once you’re in the deep profound range, hearing aids usually don’t have the power to help you. I do have several friends who are in this range who have opted to use the controversial Cochlear Implants to give them some kind of hearing to function in a very noisy world. As for me, I am able to use hearing aids to pick up most of the sounds around me, though there are some ranges of sound my ears will never be able to pick up like any normal person would be able to, and it is worse in my right ear, as my husband can attest to when the battery in my left hearing aid goes out. That doesn’t stop me from listening to my music. I crank up my music on my ipod to the point where sometimes people around me can hear it a little bit, or I have my hearing aids on while I have music playing in my car or in my home.  Right now, with my earphones on, I have the volume cranked all the way up to 100 off my computer to listen to music. I’m sure the normal hearing person wouldn’t have it cranked up that high with headphones on.

Growing up, my home was always filled with music. My parents sang in the church choir. I loved my mother’s voice and was jealous of my bother’s gift of music. It was hard being the only one who wasn’t musically gifted, all thanks to my hearing loss, but I did find a different way to channel my love for music a different way eventually.  Signing songs gave me a way to truly enjoy the music I listened to, and I love a very wide range of music.

Pandora has been a favorite access site for me to dabble in the many different forms of music available to me, and currently I am sitting here listening to the “New Age” music. It calms me and invigorates my imagination. I would write my poems, which I have not done in a long time, or create short stories in my head inspired by some of my favorite literary settings or characters. My all time favorite is Middle-Earth, though I have visited Prince Edward Island, Narnia, England, and the Renaissance era, just to name a few. But when I’m not in the need of calming, I use music to motivate me.  Techno or Rock moves me to exercise or clean around my home. For encouragement during a rough time in my life, I turn to my Worship music like Chris Tomlin or Michael W. Smith.  When I’m driving, I find it hard not to turn my radio on to listen to the Christian Radio station. If I don’t have the kids in the car with me, I would listen to the Country music station. I’d have my cds playing, but my cd player is currently broken in my car. The reason for not having my kids in the car is because some Country songs are a little questionable for a young child, since they’re reputably known to be about broken relationships and sad situations. I don’t feel comfortable letting my five and three year old hear songs about such things. In this world we live in, I’d like them to keep their innocence for as long as they can.

Back to the subject of music…

Music plays a big part of who I am, and I am grateful for it. Sure, I am an ipod-less person at the moment, but I am not without my hearing aids, a huge collection of cds, a computer to play them on, and, last but not least, there is Pandora to entertain my ears and mind with.

Next month, with the Deaf Ministry group at my church, I will be signing two songs for our annual Spring Sign Concert. The first is a solo of Stand Up by Fireflight and, the second is Healing Rain by Michael W. Smith with a friend of mine. There are to be many other people signing songs during the concert, but for me, its a great way for me to share my love of music and God’s creation of it. He did make us musical creatures – Afterall, we’re the only creation that sings just for the pure expression of the deeper part of ourselves, either it be grief, anger, joy, or peace. Birds and other animals sing for communication, though it is very beautiful to listen to… But that altogether is a whole new subject to get into.

My mind is wandering with pictures of Paradise; green pastures, crystal clear waters, radiant flowers blowing gently falling off trees by a coaxing spring wind, and peace becoming a tangible thing…. Isn’t music a beautiful thing? I know Heaven has to have perpetual music, and I’m looking forward to it.  As for now, I will enjoy my music on Earth and thank God for it everyday. I’ll consider it training for the day I enter His kingdom to “Sing of His Praise Forever”… Even with these different ears of mine.