The Kindly Ones

The Kindly Ones.

This is a ficticious book based on real stuff.

I'm on page 218 of 975. It's a slow go my friends. Part of me just wants to return it to the library. I'll have to renew it for the 2nd time tomorrow (which means I'll have had it for 4 weeks). I'm only allowed to renew it twice. There's no way I'll be able to finish it in 14 days.


Why is it taking me so long?


It's a German's memoirs about his years during WWII. He was part of the SS (or SD, I'm not sure). It was his job to document the genocide of the Jews, gypsies, insane people ...


Now you see why I can only read one or two pages at a time.


Germany called the issue with the Jews, The Jewish Question. They called the mass murders; Actions. Of course, killing so many people at one time poses certain problems. Such as, how do we get them all to the place of action? What is the speediest and cleanest way to kill? They played around with different possibilities.


So why am I reading a book as awful as this? If you remember in posts past, I have a tendency to pick depressing movies. I guess that might carry over to books as well. But besides that, this subject (the Jewish genocide), has always intrigued me. This man tries to answer the following quesions: What would it take for a single person to kill another human being? How can a whole country kill so many of it's people? And how can a whole nation stand behind that? What kind of mentality does that take? Why didn't more men refuse their order? What was the impact on the men that chose to follow through with their order? And a darker wonder - what would it be like for the victim in those last minutes before they die? What is the transition like from being alive to being dead?


This man answers the first questions almost immediately in the book. He writes in a withdrawn manner much of the time. He dares you to think from his perspective. Often he writes the facts, where he is going & why, his conversations. Sometimes he goes deep with his thoughts. There are no chapters. He includes every little thing. He is still (as of page 218) trying to find the answers to those last two quetions.

I'm going to try reading more, I want to know the answers to those last questions myself. I've been asking similar ones within the past year.

"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." ~ C.S. Lewis

Stupid Stupid Mean People

UUUGGGGG! My brother gave me a virus. A computer virus. Possibly. This brings to mind a few words to a song by the Squirrel Nut Zippers "... a virus holding up inside inside us ..."

Why can't people just be nice? Why do they have to send viruses to innocent little computers (of which cost me less than $350.00) which lack any kind of influential power. My computer is not the gateway to financial domination, nor is it a doorway to world governmental secrets. I journal on this thing. I play a couple games. I blog. There is no point in sending a virus to me because the sender does not receive any benefits. Stupid stupid mean people.

Oh. This is not my brother's fault - although it would have been nice to have received the warning email a little sooner :)

Don't Make Me Go Dementia On You!

Let's see, what kind of humor do I laugh to? Craziness. Pure craziness. I work with a person whose conversations are always interesting - you never know what he's going to say next. His dramatics keep me smiling and laughing throughout my days - except for when his dramatics are dramatically negative towards ME and the others that I work with. Perhaps I enjoy his crazy antics because deep down, I'm crazy too. Okay okay, maybe not so deep down. Maybe more on the surface level, which reaches all the way down (Jeez, you're mean).

I used to work at a nursing home. Many times I wanted to have a temper tantrum (sometimes I did) and throw things. I loved watching Charlotte, an Alzheimer's resident, roll up to people in her wheel chair and slap or pinch them. She had her own lunch table, there was no way she'd allow anybody to eat with her. She used to throw her food. Oh, how I wanted to join in with her! Charlotte was an 80 pound menace. I have a feeling I'm going to be just like her when I grow up.

I travelled outside the office with one of the doctor's today - we went to a senior center to do foot care. They were quite social with eachother. It was very interesting to observe them. They played Wii bowling, sewed pet beds, and sat around round tables flirting and enjoying eachother's company. Their bingo prizes spanned the length of a 6 ft table. The prizes consisted of pepto bismol (no, I'm not kidding), cleaning products, tissues, diet Coke, and other food items.(I was only slightly disturbed by the memorial - cemetery - mural painted on the walls - at least it was a Spring time scenery, however, I kept thinking the bunny was going pop out of the wall and bite me - remember Kisses the Killer rabbit? This one looked just like her). The members of this senior center got me to thinking on how I would be when I become a senior. I don't think I'm the type to socialize. If all my friends are dead, then I have a feeling I'll become a recluse, reading all day and eating pasta. In fact, I'm kind of looking forward to this. This past year I've started taking preventative measures against Alzheimer's by challenging my mind to Sudoku puzzles. I have a feeling I'm going to end up like Charlotte - which will be fine once I'm to her level of dementia, but it's going to be horrific in the early stages, knowing what's to come. I watched my Grandpa suffer with Alzheimer's.

Just blame it on the Alzheimer's - Emily's gone postal on you. I can't wait. I just hope I have enough mind left to enjoy it.

That "V" Word - Part 2 - Because We Need Another Part

I just love when discussions happen in the comment section! And I wanted to add my 2 cents worth after Flamingo's and then remembered that I own this blog and I can filibuster if I want to! You guys just have to stick to the comment section - sorry. Unless you want to start your own blog and make a retort.



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In highschool, waaaaay back in the 90's, (late 90's thank you very much), the boys soccer team used to walk around wearing T-shirts with a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson on their backs:



"Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm."



I used to think that out of all the cool quotes they could have chosen - why this one? I was sooooo disappointed in them. But, they had a successful team, so I didn't say anything. And that quote has never left me.



Sometimes we live life just trying to survive it. And enthusiasm is blanketed by the everyday necessities.



I don't believe God intended for us to live that way. He wants us to live life abundantly, to live life to it's fullest. He has knit us inside our mother's wombs - every single detail, from the way our nose turns up to our organizational analytical compassionate selves (place your qualities here - and most of those above are not my qualities). Our passions, our gifts. These were miraculously given to us way back in the beginning as our nose was being formed and our hearts started beating for the first time. If he created our physical being, than I believe he created our personal being - our character, our spirits, our souls. If he didn't let that up to chance, than something significant is being said here.



Purpose. And his creativity.



I think there are many believers out there that think that God has a certain will for them. And they stress themselves out with every choice that presents itself, wondering if it's in or out of God's will. I think we tend to believe that his will for us is narrow - and it's very hard to figure out if we are in God's will or not.



Until we succeed or fail. And that is the measuring system.



My friends my friends. What if we're wrong? What if God has more yes's for us than no's? Isn't this a freeing thought?



Yes, I believe that God has certain things for us to do, individually. He came up with these things before we were born. And this reminds me to take more notice to each moment, to look for those special tasks he has for me. Big or small. He created me in such a way to preform these individual plans.



But besides those special plans, I think we are free to dream. We are free to exercise our passions - which God created in us! I think God tells us more so than not, "Just do something!"



A couple years ago I found myself in between two choices. One was to continue being a growth group leader - stepping up with added responsibilities. The other was to pull out of every involvement I was in at church - to take at least a year off to focus on simplicity and family. How I struggled with this decision! How I wondered what God's will for me was! I went back and forth. I wrestled with the choices. I was leaning one way, but didn't know if it was "right". Finally God said, "Enough is enough! Just do something! Both choices are good!"

Robert Frost knows all about this.

I chose simplicity and family. And during that year I experienced God like no other time in my life.

But that doesn't mean the other choice was wrong. Perhaps it wasn't the better choice. Than again, maybe it was. God blessed me never-the-less. That year off prepared me for this past year. Thank you God for being God.

My dad started seminary when I was four years old. We moved from York, PA to Winona Lake, Indiana. For a year. We came home then. A couple years later we moved to Stowe, VT where dad and mom started a "home missions" church. Home missions in being that it wasn't started over-seas. After two years, we had to return home. We were majorly in debt, the church never grew to be self supportive.

Were my parents out of God's will? Who are we to judge? He didn't stop us from going. Failure is a state of perspective (unless pertaining to absolutes). And not necessarily God's. Whether we "succeed" or "fail", I don't think this is necessarily a true measurement of being in God's will. My parents followed their passion - a God given passion. It was good.

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So back to the word vision.

I think it's not only important for us to have one (or more), I think it's our responsibility as stewards of what God's created in us.

But what is this word, vision? What does it mean to me? For me, it encompasses passion and purpose, a drive, a picture of my dreams (though I now know not to get too detailed in my portrait and to let God do his thing :)

I have a vision as a wife and mother, I have a vision as a podiatric assistant working with the group of crazy people (I love them!) beside me, I think I should have a vision for my writing because it's something that is near and dear to my heart, therefore near and dear to God's heart because it's a love he's created inside me. All this I'm just starting to think about. My mentor said to me, having a vision is something that will help me keep on track of the choices that come my way. It will help me to decide what I should say "no" to, and what I should say "yes" to. And I love that. I love anything that will help to simplify my life.

As fallen humans, we mess every good thing up with evil. It's an unsavory mess sometimes. It has always been important to stay under the protection of the Lord's wings. Out of it, we are open to being deceived by Satan as well as by our own deceitful hearts. It says so very clearly in the Bible. Eve was persuaded to pursue the wrong vision - a vision of being her own god. Of course we must be on guard. We need to make sure our vision is indeed good and right in God's eyes. And we need to humble ourselves in following him or else we'll run into ... ourselves. And that's not a good thing. We trip over ourselves way too many times.

I believe the gifts God's given us are also tied closely to our greatest weakness. And so it is absolutely vital that we walk with God, opening ourselves up to what he sees, and allowing him to continue his good work in us.

Regardless, he is God. And we can't mess his work up. We just miss out on the blessings.

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Okay, fire away - I'm done for now. Leave your comment, but please package it in love - I've got a sensitive heart!

Farmer's Almanac Prediction

In the offices of the podiatry practice, I heard tell the Farmer's Almanac is predictiong "the storm of the century" on March 7th, that we will get more than the past two big snowstorms combined.

Good gracious - where are we going to put all the snow?

Shingles In My Ear And Leakage In My Eye

It was November of 2003. We were driving home from D&D's one night. I had one of the most painful migraines I've ever had that reached from the back of my neck down over my head and situated itself in my sinuses. I went to bed in pain.

The next morning, as I was brushing my teeth, something peculiar was happening. Water kept spurting out the side of my mouth and I had no control of keeping it in.

I smiled. Hhmmmmmm.

I raised my eyebrows. Uh oh.

I scowled and winked.

Shit.

Either I had experienced a stroke at some point in the night, or I was suffering from Bel's Palsy, a condition I had just learned existed from D's brother who had suffered from it. Since I was thinking clearly and could easily move the other left sided non-facial body parts, I concluded I had Bel's Palsy.

I got the kids ready and headed over to Aunt Mae's, where Jason was doing yard work. I showed him my ever increasing lop-sided facial features. Eventually I made my way over to the doctor's where I saw the physician's assistant. He unsurprisingly told me I had Bel's Palsy and prescribed steroids. I requested blood work for Lyme's disease (he forgot that the link existed between the two). It must have come back negative. Or positive. Whichever result tells me that I didn't have Lyme's disease.

A few days later we traveled to the mountains. This trip has always induced nauseousness. However, I could barely walk into the trailer in an upright position. I basically stayed in bed the whole long weekend. I threw up on our way home - which is something that I rarely do. I spent one very long week in bed. Blinking made the room spin. I would pee twice in a 24 hour rotation - once in the morning and once at night. I barely ate or drank. I knew that I could survive 3 days without fluids and 12 days without food. But my stomach growled fiercely as I smelled the delicious dinner aromas coming from the kitchen. I lost almost 10 pounds that week, bringing my total body weight down to 85 pounds. I was so weak. My mother-in-law and mom took turns coming over to watch the kids and take care of the household duties. I could do nothing but lay in bed, keeping my head as still as possible. I went back to the doctor's later on that week, again I saw the physician assistant. He prescribed motion sickness medicine which did diddly-squat for me. At one point I thought to myself, "I just need to get off this medicine and slowly acclimate myself back to normalcy." But I didn't. I went again to the doctor's, saw the same stupid man, who conferred with another stupid man who never took the time to see me, and basically was told that I had an upper respiratory infection and it was going to take time for the fluid behind my ears to dissipate. I was suffering now for about a month. I would walk into the doctor's office leaning heavily on my husband because there was no way I could walk by myself.

I finally decided to go to and ENT. If I had fluid behind my ears, than I wanted it drained. Put a damn tube in my ear if that's what it takes. This vertigo and motion sickness was going on way too long for my liking. I had to travel way out to Hanover, about an hour away. It was the closest office that took my insurance. The doctor was strange. But he was at least competent. He asked me two very important question. Did I initially have blisters in my ear and was my ear very painful on the inside? Those questions sparked a memory of the time in the mountains when I kept picking out crystals from my ear. And yes, I had pain. At the time I thought it was strange, but didn't think much of it since I had bigger issues to deal with (facial paralysis and extreme vertigo and nauseousness). He told me that what I had was shingles in my ear. It's called Ramsay Hunt Syndrome and is rare, which is why my "doctor" didn't pick up on it - he probably never even saw a case of it before. Old people get it. He told me to wean myself off of the motion sickness meds and he gave me a few exercises (now you know another reason why I hate to exercise) to do to regain my sense of balance. He said that the virus (and since I had the chicken pox as a kid I housed the virus dormant inside my body) became activated and settled in my ear, more specifically the nerve ending that is responsible for maintaining balance. I also had some hearing loss.

Another month passed. I revisited my ENT. My hearing had returned (or so they told me - I have my doubts :). And I was doing much better with the whole balance thing. It was now probably February or March.

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Fast forward a couple months. I was in the depths of a really good book. I developed another mind bending migraine. My contact in my right eye was not working right, it was causing vision distortion. I thought to myself as I was reading, "I really need to check this contact to see if it really is the contact, or if in fact it is my eye that is causing the problem." A day or two pass before I get around to it (I was preoccupied with the book), my headache is still persistently present. I finally check the contact. Looks good. Oh oh. The distortion is still present even with the contact out of my eye. I make a phone call to my eye doctor who told me to wait an hour to see if my headache would go away. What an idiot. Of course it wasn't going to go away, I thought. I had it for days, it's not going anywhere! I called her back in an hour. She saw me that evening. And became ecstatic when she looked into my eye with her little doohickey tool. "Oh, I wish my intern was here, he just went home. He's been wanting to see something cool for days!" My eye was leaking blood into the retina. Her excitement over that fact made me excited and I wanted her to call the intern back to look at my eye. I wanted to look inside my eye! She declared I must go to a retinal specialist the very next day. I couldn't wait!

Jason, my then 3 year old son and 1 year old daughter and I, arrived in the morning at Dr. Swann's, the retinal specialist. We spent 3 hrs. there. They dilated my eye, measured the pressure, pushed dye up the veins in my arm which would highlight the veins in my eyes (it made me sneeze), took pictures of my eye, and then gave me the verdict. My choice was to lose all but my peripheral vision if I chose to do nothing, or lose some central vision if I chose to "fix" the distortion. He told me that my eye was making new blood vessels, and these new blood vessels were very weak. Blood was leaking from them. The only way to fix it was through hot laser "surgery", which would cauterize the blood vessels. The laser would create a tiny blindspot close to the center of my vision (I can now block out people's heads with this dark spot if I close my good eye). We did the laser procedure that day. I really had no other choice - I wanted as much normal vision as I could possibly have. The dye made my skin and eyes jaundice. I went back to him after two weeks to make sure I wasn't leaking again. I was. He did the whole thing over again. More dilating, more sneezing, more laser, in which I had to keep absolutely still.

I saw my retinal specialist every few weeks, then every few months that first year. They got to know me pretty well. I was the only young patient. I had my kiddos with me - and they behaved amazingly well - these visits would take 2-3 hours at a time. I would drive home with one pupil dilated, one pupil constricted, and a yellow face.

I will always have that blindspot. Driving is a tad more scary (blindspots galore! Not all from my actual blindspot), but I'm still safe friends, have no fear. I havn't had any more distortions. I go visit my retinal specialist every two years to make sure.

I now have several things in common with the old people I see everyday. I had shingles too. I had retinal problems. I had facial paralysis (which, by the way is pretty humiliating. I love to smile at people and they thought I was scowling at them).

I learned a lot medically in 2003/2004 - who needs nursing school ehh?

Oh, and I don't mean to leave the impression that I think all physician assistants are idiots. I was accepted at a college to become one before I decided to ventured into nursing school. No, I have respect for physician assistants - just not this one. He has gain my disrespect only after mulitpule instances of incompetency. I love my eye doctor - and I idolize my retinal specialist, they saved the vision in my right eye.

It's That "V" Word

I have some good posts steaming in my mind, but they're not done brewing yet. You'll have to bear with me. I have the energy and inspiration in the mornings to give these unborn posts justice, but when I get home in the evenings my mind is gone. Which is okay - like I just wrote, they're not done brewing.

I'm learning about "vision". It has been ringing in my ears lately. My mentor mentioned vision to me when I met with her this past Friday. What is my vision for my family? And then the pastor's sermon was on vision this past Sunday (don't you just love it when God hits you over the head like that?). Flamingo got me to thinking about dreams in place of resolutions in the beginning of the year.

I'm not a big visionist - is that even a word? I enjoy planning trips, planning the way I want my house to look, planning my social calendar (snort). But if you would ask me, like my mentor asked me, what my vision for my family is, or what my vision for my writing or my vision for my work is - I'd be stumped. Sure, I'd be able to give you an answer, eventually, but vision, like resolutions, are a set up for failure. I had visions once. I had it all mapped out, the way I wanted my life to go, from college, to meeting that guy during the 3rd year, to marrying after I graduated, to having a child after the 1st or 2nd year of my new career. Then God laughed at me. I got married after my first year of college, dropped out of school during my second, had my first baby just days before I turned 22. And nothing went according to my vision. Since then I lived life with few expectations and did my best from moment to moment.

I don't regret a thing. And I love the way my life is going - tough times and all (well, I'll be honest, most tough times and all). I can honestly say that this is one wild ride I'm on, simple as it is. Some of you might look in on me and wonder, where is all the excitement? To each his own my friend. Watching an ingrown toenail get trimmed out is mesmerizing. Witnessing the kids develop more and more character is amazing. Jason's job situation, although stressful with so much waiting, is a front row seat in viewing the actions of God.

So my vision? I'm journaling about it. Maybe I'll post on some of them one day. I know that having a vision is not a blueprint of my life, a step by step guide. I'll not make that amateur mistake again! But it's thinking about my passions, I actually do have some, and dreaming of how they can be used in my everyday life and where it might take me in the future. Our church is holding a parenting conference this coming Saturday - I'm hoping a vision for my family will drop down from heaven through the mouths of the speakers. Just kidding, I guess I can come up with my own. I've already started working on it. However, I'm hoping that this conference will spark some good conversations between Jason and I. Maybe we can brainstorm together. I'm not that great a communicator, neither is hubby, so we don't talk about this kind of stuff (an all-together different vision of mine- that communication thing).

This post has sparked a topic for a journaling session - the reasons why I avoid visions. But it's almost 10pm now, and I need to work on one momentarily :)