I am putting together another book and this means I am
spending maybe too much time in front of the computer right now. I
decided to take a break and check my notes on how I can prevent my
hours writing at the key pad from sucking my energy and below are
the results.
If you spend a chunk of time in front of the computer you will find
the following simple advice easy to apply and helpful. Pass it
along.

Tip one
Reducing mental fatigue
Computers, especially the monitors and hard drives, are machines
that give off heat that dries the air around them. The resulting
warm air in your work environment can start to dehydrate you.
Dehydration thickens your blood making your brain slow down which
impacts our mental clarity. The best way to counteract dehydration
is to drink pure water. Keep a water bottle handy by your desk and
avoid consuming large amounts of tea, coffee and pop when you work
on a computer. They dehydrate your body.

Tip two
Reducing neck and back strain.
Sit up straight. Keep your thighs and forearms parallel to the
floor. Make sure your monitor is in front of you at eye level -
elevate it on a platform if you have too. Sometimes a few big books
will work!

Tip three
Keeping your eyes healthy
Looking at a monitor a lot can cause eye strain. Practice fun
activities like rolling your eyes to reduce eye strain. Reduce eye
strain as well by adjusting the zoom on the document once in a
while. This is possible in most word processors and document
readers. Give it a try.

Also,to help support the health of your eyes remember Vitamin A has
another name. It is called Retinol related to the Retina of our
eyes. Retinol is important to the health of our eyes. Foods that
contain significant amounts of Vitamin A are apricots, asparagus,
beet greens, broccoli, cantaloupe, carrots, collard, dandelion
greens, papayas, peaches, pumpkin, red peppers, spinach, sweet
potatoes, and yellow squash. Enjoy these sight nourishing foods
whenever you can.

If you are looking for a simple guide to help you choose a wide
variety of colourful foods visit here for one I put together
http://www.thewondertechnique.com/rainbow-fruit-veg-guide.htm

Finally, remember to stretch your whole body by taking a walk every
so often – once an hour is a good rule of thumb- perhaps to refill
your water bottle or to snack on a carrot or say hello to a friend.

My best to you,

David

David Hennessey, B.A. (Psych.), W.C.,
Expert on Stress Management, Health, Wellness and Success
Developer of The W.O.N.D.E.R. Technique ® Educational Program
www.TheWonderTechnique.com

MOBILE DEVISES ARE DANGEROUS for people who like to read. I’m now using one of these marvels of 21st century technology and I’m finding it very difficult to read electronic text only a few pixels high. Sure, it’s possible to increase the size of these miniature images but then you spend more time scrolling up and down and back and forth. Of course wrestling with the pages of very large Sunday newspapers back in the 20th century was also a challenge but at least I never struggled with reading all of the sections and inserts. (Someone just reminded me that newspapers are still with us.) How will constant miniaturized reading on mobile devices affect our children? It’s too late for me I’m already suffering. Where is the research? Google is flooded with the latest mobile device technology but there is little to be found on the web. Mike Masnick’s blog post dated May 2, 2006 Mobile Devices Destroying Our Eyesight is worth reading in larger print.

]]> http://myseasonalblog.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/i-see/ Tue, 24 Nov 2009 04:04:32 +0000 Queen Phillips http://myseasonalblog.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/i-see/

I was given an opportunity to see; and for that I’m thankful. 

Too often I’m guilty of taking the “luxuries” of life for granted, and especially my physical abilities such as eyesight (not 20/20), shelter, food, personal transportation, etc.  Well, today several individuals crossed my path (two in particular) that gave me reasons to be thankful.   First of all, thankful to them for reminding me of how easy it is to take life for granted.  I watched and listened as these blind/visually impaired men laughed and joked about things I often complain about and become frustrated.  Their jovial spirits and care-free attitude screamed at me loud and clear, “Your attitude makes the difference when faced with challenges.”

So today I’m thankful for these two gentlemen that gave me a refresher course on having an attitude of gratitude even when you don’t really see how to get from point A to B without someone leading you.  Don’t let your challenges get you down. 

Enjoy life anyway… laugh, be merry… have faith…trust others to help you… be thankful!

Shortly after I turned 44, I was answering a questionnaire on the internet and the question of how old I was came up. There was a drop down menu, which produced different ages, combined into groups. 18-24, 25-34, 35-44, 45-54 and so on and so forth. Much to my dismay, I noticed that within a year I was going to lose the status of being in my 30’s-40’s and move into the age bracket of a dinosaur, or otherwise belonging in the same group of 50 year olds. This freaked me out and I nearly peed my pants once the numbing sensation of terror passed.

Girls and boys, I am not a vain woman. Yes, I have (in the past) had issues with my hair sparklies (aka gray hair), and there are some days my crows feet really piss me off, but still, I’m not vain in any way……other than those two horrible (yet normal) processes of aging, and oh yeah, there’s those aches and pains every now and again that remind me to slow the hell down because one day I’m gonna trip and it may mean a broken hip, but that’s about it with regard to anything that even resembles vanity. Hold up! There’s that other thing, the eyesight thing, that kinda gets to me, especially when I’m crafting and I need x4000 strength reading glasses, but that’s about it.

Huh. Now that I think about it, there’s that other thing that sometimes gets to me, called my memory or lack there of, especially when I’m in the middle of an argument and I really need it. That can’t be considered vain when one is irritated by that though, right? I suppose, now that I’m thinking about it, I might be called vain because I’m extremely obsessed with the width of my behind (it appears gravity doesn’t just pull things down. It also stretches things horizontally), and don’t get me started on those age spots I thought for the past 5 years were freckles; hideous large brownish freckles, but freckles nonetheless.

Anyway (I just go blah blah blah and get lost in my own head sometimes. Hmm….that might be a sign of aging as well! Oh for crying out loud!), upon seeing this age bracket and panicking, my mind went through a series of different thoughts that go beyond panic and here are a list of a few of them:

First and foremost, who is in charge of creating these age brackets? I can bet my salary (haha) that is was someone who is either past the age of 50 or someone in their 20’s. Why do I know this? Because anyone in their 50’s is well past (or should be, good grief) the age of worrying about being vain, and should be more concerned with how much money is in their retirement fund. Someone in their 20’s has probably not even experienced one gray hair, nor do they wake up, run to the mirror, and count their crows feet. They probably also got a good giggle combining someone in their mid 40’s with a dinosaur, because they’re all turds – every single one of them whipper snappers! Don’t tell me I’m paranoid either. Prove me wrong, I dare ya.

The second thing that went through my mind was how fast my moving up the age bracket happened. I remember being in my 20’s quite vividly (until I’m in an argument and can’t remember a damn thing!). It was as if that glorious age just happened. Never mind I’ve since had 3 children, 2 marriages, 4 different cars, 4 different dogs and a partridge in a pear tree. Never you mind that. My 20’s just happened, or so it seems. My 30’s also are still quite vivid. Heck! I was in my PRIME in my 30’s. My body was toned and there was not a wrinkle or blemish on me. I have pictures to prove it! So why, pray tell, am I suddenly so much older than I think I am? Maybe it’s that damn vanity thing. I’m in such denial.

The third thing that went through my mind, and probably might sound a little weird, was I wondered if my husband already noticed I’ve almost reached the dinosaur bracket. Could he possibly have answered a similar question, noticed that age combination, and thought to himself, “Huh…..Mandie’s almost the same age as a dinosaur”? Teehee. That was rather weird wasn’t it? I’m not kidding though. I really thought that.

And lastly, but most predominantly, the thing that went through my mind was how long until I really gave a damn what age bracket I was in, so long as I was still out of diapers and able to get myself off the toilet. I mean, really. We all know there’s “that” age when we suddenly stop caring. I know this because I watched my aunts and uncles go through it. They not only stopped caring about how old they were, they also stopped caring about how they dressed and acted. They didn’t care who cared either! What power one must feel when one reaches that age. It must feel exhilarating, like being on a scary roller coaster and not passing out.

All these things went through my mind in nanoseconds, cause that’s just how I do. I was then able to chew on the fact that I am aging and I really, seriously, need to accept it, plain and simple. Accepting such obvious things is a must if we want to continue to live a normal life and not one filled with dread or remorse. Sure, I have remorse for some things I did and some things I didn’t do, and I have dread too. I’m human so there!

Nevertheless, the more I thought about it, the less scary it seemed to me to age. I mean, I’m not in poor health. I’m in great health! I have tons of energy too. I still love to dance around the house with the music blaring, I’m still capable of eating a sugar filled late night snack and not waking up feeling swollen or sluggish. That’s not too shabby. I also have so many goals to reach, and I know I have the time left in my life to reach them, because I’m only 44. I’m still a baby to my mother! I’m sure there are even others who still see me as a whipper snapper! Haha! But this whipper snapper is more mature than a 20 year old whipper snapper, and with maturity comes wisdom. Let’s not forget that. The winner thought that turned my panic into acceptance, however, was the fact that I still have almost an entire year to be in the 30’s-40’s age bracket. And you know what? I’m gonna prove everyone wrong by not becoming a dinosaur anytime soon.

So, now I’m off to bed. It’s gotten way too late for this whipper snapper to be up. I have to get an early start on my morning since not becoming a dinosaur has been added to my list of goals…..now where are my reading glasses….

Well, for now I’ve finished my mastering Astoronomy assignment. I was expecting a low 60% but got a low 70%! Awesome. *pat on the back*

Anyways, not too happy about Tuesday. Why you might ask? Well i have my first EVER in-class essay. Not ready! I hope Dr. Spring shows up easy films like Wizard of Oz or Do the Right thing. I would so demolish the essay! One setback though, I need to remember the director and year the film was released. HOW IN THE WORLD WILL I REMEMBER THAT?!

FML. PLUS, it is worth 20%. The same weight my mid-term was. Ah. Fonna=Dead.

Anyways, I finished reading another book just a few days ago (it’s due tomorrow, so i can grab another book for the beloved library).

It is called The House of Forgetting by Benjamin Alire Saenz (there are accented letters in his name, but you get the point).

It was okay. I’d rate it 3/5. When I read the summary, I thought story would dive into the progression of the relationship between the kidnapper (Thomas Blacker) and the kidnapped (Gloria Santos). Instead it mostly told the story of the outcome of this relationship, occasionally dipping into the past so that readers could understand the present.

Sometimes the plot gripped my attention, but only for a short while. For people who don’t have a library due date, they wouldn’t really read this book in a short amount of time (it’s not really a 1-2 day read, but a 9-10 day read).

Other than what was mentioned, I would have to say that someother lingering things are going on in my life:

• I might get one thing off my Christmas List
• Piano Lessons are expensive and I want to take them but gosh.
• My budget gives little to no room for “me money”
• I’m becoming more involved in school! (yay)
• My sleep pattern is MESSED UP
• I am considering not having kids (random right?)
• I desperately want to go shopping (even thrift store shopping)
• Readings are so constant, I’m going brain dead , yet I’m retaining info.
• I’m nervous for my psychology and sociology tests next week
• My eyesight is weak without my glasses
• I want to get waxed (like a FULL BODY WAX)
• I desperatley need a massage
• Movies help me pass the time
• Tumblr is also helping me pass the time
• I’m not suppposed to be doing things to pass time, instead I should be doing h/w
• Sitting around in sweats is the way to live your life (well at least uni. life)

Anyways, now that that’s done, I have one last thing:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!

So tomorrow I have my annual eye appointment. Death to my retinas is imminent. In all seriousness, my eyesight is fading – stupid heredity. Over the years I used to have PERFECT in fact – better than perfect eyesight. Then slowly my ugly genes came through and I got:

1) Fatter

2) Dumber in math

3) Crappier eye-sight

So now I have problems seeing the board or whatever is on it. I can’t post much tonight, just got back from work and I missed tonight’s episode of Glee. It is a tragic night for all. Anyways, I shall keep you posted – no pun intended. Actually… maybe it was slightly intended.

I am working on a few different cartoons to “celebrate” Sesame Street turning 40. Because after 40 everything turns to crap.

Looks like I am not the only one with Sesame Street cartoons this week.  Check out Agent-X and Spud Comics for more.

Follow me via TWITTER updates. or help share the post by clicking below…

Hi tall person. Will you carry me?

M – No breaking news story here, I was just reading the ‘thejuma” blog and it reminded me we should probably get Mango’s eyesight tested. We know she has a really long reach, sticky fingers, and bat-like hearing, but have yet to find out about her vision. From the way she chases objects (toys) about, she has excellent depth perception. Also, she is distressing fast. After all, if I can barely keep up with her  when she is barreling across the floor in a squealing rush to get away from tickling fingers (just to be clear here, I am also crawling); imagine her speed when walking. I doubt she will be content to just amble along. She’ll be careening back and forth at high speeds, oblivious to the many dangers (such as sharp table/chair corners/edges, people lying in her way attempting to slow her down, etc.) Crazy times to come. Talk about getting off topic here. I had planned on finding out when one should get one’s eyesight checked, but ended up going on about something else entirely. Sorry.

This is not a political post and I am not especially political myself.  I have just been thinking that the current Prime Minister of the UK and the Leader of the Opposition (and probable future Prime Minister) have both suffered the death of a child.

Their loss doesn’t seem to get them much of a break in the public eye or in the media.  They were given a few weeks space to grieve and then the mud-slinging match began again.  I wonder why politics is like that and why people in the media are like that.  I wonder what it was like for them and their wives to be in the public eye during and after such a terrible loss.  How did they come back to work?  How has it shaped them as people.  Will they be better leaders of this country as a result of the tradgedies that struck them?

It seems to me that Gordon Brown is getting a hard deal in the media.  He has bad eyesight and yet he gets so much grief for writting a scrawly hand-written condolence note.  Surely this man who has himself lost a daughter is not being reckless with other people’s grief?  It is a sad state of affairs in our society that the media try to make political capital out of such things.  It just strikes me as distasteful towards both the PM and the mother of the soldier who was killed.  By all means disagree with the war in Afganistan or whatever policy you choose but why the interest in this intensly sensitive grief…

Am I just biased because Gordon Brown and I have both had a daughter die?  Perhaps I am.  But I think our leaders should also be treated with a bit more respect and compassion considering what they have been through – surely, six-year-old Ivan and Baby Jennifer Jane deserve better!

I’ve been wearing contacts since I was ten years old. Yes, I know! What were my parents thinking? Surely I lost them. Why yes I did, thankyouverymuch, luckily my smart step dad took out insurance.

I had contacts back in the days of using enzyme cleaner in distilled water. Did I just date myself? You had four different solutions. A soaking solution, a rinsing solution, and a cleaning solution. Then the distilled water with enzyme tablets. You had to have a near science degree just to WEAR contacts back then. At least they were soft contacts, those hard ones always looked painful.

Fast forward to today, my gosh, look at all the available contact options. You can get three month wear, six month wear, bi-weekly wear, colored, even bi-focal contacts. Seriously! They have come a long way. I can’t wear the extended wear. I tried and my eyes watered, constantly. It was 3-D blurred vision – I was not happy.

“Why?” asked the doctor your eyes are getting MORE oxygen with these. Um, gee doc, I don’t know. Apparently, I see better with oxygen deprived eyes. Go ahead smother them!

They put me back in the same bi-weekly lenses I had been wearing for many years, until this last visit. This doctor based on medical issues [cough] allergies [cough] recommended daily wear contacts. You wear them ONE day and toss them. A fresh new pair every day for those with dry allergy ridden eyes.

Now, I struggled a bit with the whole waste thing, how much more trash was I creating? Was I killing the planet? How lond did they take to decompose? They are not recyclable, nor environmental friendly. In the end, I tried them for seven days – comfort – blessed comfort – won out.

For the first time in 27 years, my contacts were cozy. My eyes were content. Not just day one or two, but all day even late into the night. To a long time contact wearer (and nightowl), that is incredible. They cost a bit more but I don’t have to buy solution either. The pleasant wearing experience was worth every penny (and more).

I have used 1-800-CONTACTS for a quite a while. They are very convenient, not to mention top notch customer service. I was in such desperate need of contacts after my eye appointment in May, I went online Saturday night to order them. Thing is, I kinda forgot the brand. No worries, there were only TWO daily wear lenses. I picked the one I thought it was. I figured they’d verify with the office and get the right one anyhow (forgetting it was Sunday the next day and the office was closed).

The contacts arrived within the week, oh happy day, I HATE wearing glasses. I can’t see. I never feel awake. I had gotten so irritated that week, I had dug out an OLD, OLD pair of contacts to wear. Yuk! Major eye disturbance.

So here they were, fresh and brand new, I immediately put my lenses in…..and couldn’t SEE a thing! I thought, maybe I got a bad lens. I tried another pair, STILL couldn’t see. Ahhhh!

I was bummed. I went to work wearing glasses and called them. As I’m speaking to a rep, I notice the box is + not – like my prescription. Ooops. Yeah, my bad. I tell them, it’s the wrong prescription, I admit it’s my fault. They tell me according to the doctor’s office it’s the wrong brand too. Wow.

Not only do they fix it and ship it right away, they do not even charge me the extra money for the different brand which was more expensive. AND they didn’t laugh at me for my major flub! (wearing contacts for 27 years? HA)

Three months later, it came time to re-order again. I jump online, no problems. My prescription is there and verified, no chance of getting it wrong. I actually ordered six months worth of contacts, because you know, time flies.

The box came yesterday and I open it right up, CONTACTS! My CONTACTS are here. Here is what I find……

Inside the box.

One of the boxes.

What’s left inside the box after the boxes are removed.

83 contacts

Now either someone had a really bad day in shipping and took it out on a mean ole box of contacts, or the contact boxes had some major issues with each other when the box closed. *You’re in my space. Move over. Get your elbow off me. Stop wheezing! Are you looking at me? You want some of this. Why I outta…*

One box was completely ripped open – all the contacts broken apart and loose. Two other boxes were opened but not spilling contacts, the third box looked a little inflated but was fine, not opened anyway. I would have been okay if they were all there, but no, one box was short seven contacts. I had to call them and let them know. What a trip! (heh, literally!)

Apparently, those seven escaped during shipping or were kicked out of box club for talking about box club. Or maybe the shipping guy had a problem with them. You seven? You’re OUTTA here! What happens in the box stays in the box….no questions, right?

Rogue contacts, only me….

I’m very happy to report that this week went WAY better than last week. It turned out that a big part of why I was feeling so sluggish last week wasn’t laziness (or mono, as I briefly feared), but BAD VISION! Long story short, it turns out that I was allergic to my contact material and needed a higher prescription. I feel like a new woman! Lesson of the day: get those eyes checked, kids.

Here is what my week looked like:

• Monday: off
• Tuesday: 8 miles easy (avg. pace 8:56)
• Wednesday: Jillian Workout (strength)
• Thursday: Cruise interval workout (7×1000m, 3×200m), 10 miles total
• Friday: Yoga and abs
• Saturday: 4 miles easy (avg. pace 10:04)
• Sunday: 18 mile long run (avg. pace 8:50)

All in all, I felt pretty good this week. I had some very strange hamstring soreness starting on Saturday morning that hasn’t gone away. It did seem to loosen up after a few miles on both Saturday and Sunday, so I’m not that concerned. Other than that, I have no soreness from the 18-miler on Sunday.

My long run on Sunday took me in a U-shape around the bottom of Manhattan. I was planning on a loop, but encountered a huge crowd around the 10 mile mark, so doubled back the way I came. I waved hello to Lady Liberty, encountered not one but TWO rollerbladers with ski poles, and saw a girl on a scooter with a sequined mini skirt and patterned tights. I wore my fuel belt (proud, Felicia?) but it was pretty warm, so I finished all the Gatorade/water combo with a few miles to go. I got THIRSTY! My last four miles, I mixed it up by alternating fast (7:40) with slow (9:20) miles, which made the end go by pretty quick. I took an ice bath after, which was PAINFUL, but it def made me feel better (and more hard-core)

Goals from Last Week

1. Hit 45 miles. I hit 40. I can’t remember the last time I got up this high, and I did STICK TO THE PLAN (minus my one “optional” easy run, so we’ll score it as a win.
2. Strength and Flexibility: Check and check. I got my Jillian workout in, as well as some serious stretching, foam rolling, and abs.
3. Find a buddy: We’re still working on this one, but I made some steps in the right direction. I may join a track club, but I want a current race time first. Hopefully I’ll kill it at the Philly half next weekend and have a time I’m not embarrassed to admit!

Goals for This Week

1. Run 6 times: I don’t have another really long run for two weeks, which means I can really beef up my weekday running. My goal is to get six runs in, so that my mileage doesn’t drop too drastically this week.
2. Foam Roll: This lingering hamstring soreness is freaking me out, so I need to make an effort to foam roll and stretch. I’ve gotten lucky so far with no IT band issues, and I want to stay injury free.

A complex piece of evolution that sits right above our noses everyday (hopefully!), the eye is sweet piece of human engineering.

cc licensed flickr photo shared by Look Into My Eyes

Somehow I have managed to avoid the blight of poor eyesight that plagues the rest of my family and so I feel doubly blessed to see unimpaired. Considering that I’ve never experienced what it is like to not be able to see clearly, I find it hard to comprehend not being able to see the nuances of the world that surrounds me with my own two eyes (pun sort of intended). And I know I need to value my good sight because who knows how long it will last.

cc licensed flickr photo shared by Thomas Shahan

Besides the fact that I have good vision I find the evolutionary development of the eye fascinating. When you look at the emergence of basic forms of life (in the Animal kingdom) they seem to across the board evolve towards being able to see. From the first photo-sensitive cells to more and more complex forms of vision, life on this planet has a strong desire to see. In addition, when we consider how everything in this universe is connected by basic elements that were birthed in the bellies of stars long ago; the evolution of eyes can been seen as a deeply connected universe’s desire to reflect on and appreciate itself.

cc licensed flickr photo shared by Thomas Hawk

I have to take Frack for another follow-up at my home away from home (the Children’s Clinic). I must admit my stress level has been through the roof. It is wearing on me to take him to all these appointments. He can sense I’m stressed so he acts out

Regardless, it went well. I should be jumping for joy. Yet, he hasn’t achieved 20/20 vision. I should be counting my blessings that his vision is equal in both eyes (holding steady at 20/60) but part of me wants to scream out in frustration. Enough already! Where’s the 20/20 vision? As a Mom I think I am allowed at least a day or two of disappointment. It’s my child’s vision for goodness sake. I want nothing but the best.

Of course my frame of mind is all off. I talked to my sister, Skee, beforehand and we are futilely attempting to see each other before the year’s end. We have too many constraints with jobs, schools and other extenuating circumstances. We both desperately want to see each other because we are dreading this holiday season like none other. Without our Mom here I think we would both prefer to skip right through to 2010.

Now, I’m at home with both boys as we are at day’s end. I have repeatedly sent them to their rooms because they can’t seem to get along. I think they know Mom is upset so that makes them act all the crazier. It’s a vicious, vicious cycle. Would it be bad if I just left them upstairs until Mad Dog or morning arrives?

I will forge ahead and continue to prepare my gourmet (is Shake ‘n’ Bake gourmet?) dinner and sit down with my two little men to partake. I need to tell them Mommy is having a bad day. I figure if I put my feelings out on the table I can’t possibly make it any worse, right?

So, we sit down to eat and I say, “Mommy’s having a rough day, she misses Grandma and feels sad.” The response? Frack announces he has something in his teeth and little brother Frick smears mashed potatoes on his head. Not exactly what I was aiming for…..

Acts 9 has been in my spirit for a couple of weeks.  This chapter is the account of the conversion of Saul the persecutor into Paul who would become an Apostle.  The phrase “and something like scales fell from his eyes” actually came up in my spirit during prayer one morning.  This led me to an unearthing of what really happened to Saul in Acts 9.

Saul, on the road to Damascus, was blinded by the intense brightness of the appearing of Jesus. I had always understood the blindness that ensued to be a “spiritual” infliction, since those who travelled along with Saul heard a voice but saw nothing.  God sent Ananias of Damascus to lay hands on Saul and restore his eyesight.  It is then that the scales fell from Saul’s eyes.  The Adam Clarke commentary describes those scales as a very literal effect of a supernatural encounter.  Here’s an excerpt:

This was real: he had been so dazzled with the brightness of the light that we may suppose the globe of the eye, and particularly the cornea, had suffered considerable injury. The structure of the cornea was doubtless much disturbed, and the whole of that humour would be rendered opaque, and incapable of permitting the rays of light to pass through the different humours to the retina, where all the images of things transmitted through the lenses, or humours, are distinctly painted. In the miraculous cure the membrane was restored to its primitive state, and the opaque matter separated from the cornea, in the form of thin laminae or scales. This being done, the light would have as free a passage as formerly, and the result would be distinct vision.

Clarke, Adam. “Commentary on Acts 9″. “The Adam Clarke Commentary”. <http://www.studylight.org/com/acc/view.cgi?book=ac&chapter=009>. 1832.  

Let it be said that supernatural encounters have a very real effect on us, spirit, soul and body.  The physical effects we sense when in the manifest presence of the Lord are not psychosomatic in nature.  We are spiritual beings with a physical body which helps us “sense” the world around us (both natural and supernatural).  I have a question for the skeptics among us.  Have you ever felt the presence of evil?  Did it send cold shivers down your spine? Have you ever felt the presence of love? Did it make you feel warm and safe? Of course! Then it is no stretch to believe that presence of our Heavenly Father can be sensed and felt as well.

What are the scales?

For days I’ve been asking Father, “What are the scales that are about to fall?” The fact that the body of Christ is suffering from spiritual blindness is no shocker. Our “prophetic voice” has been reduced to declaring that which has been and is now.  The nearsightedness of the church has caused us to lose sight of our future and our ability to forthtell.  Throughout biblical history, rebellious kings and governments had no use for the saints unless they needed a prophetic word for the future.  In the day of crisis the ruler would call for the prophet to declare the will of God for the future.  Beloved, the church has seemingly lost even this precious gift to spiritual blindness. 

The conversion account of Saul gives us understanding about the Church’s spiritual blindness.  Saul was a loyal Jew and servant of the God of the Old Covenant.  The Lord says to Ananias of Saul in Acts 9:15, “Go, for he is a chosen instrument of Mine, to bear My name before the Gentiles and kings and the sons of Israel.” Saul was already of Father’s house, a chosen instrument.  His conversion was a result of an encounter with the Christ of the New Covenant. 

Blinded by Jesus, full of grace and truth, Saul could no longer see to participate in the tyranny of the law.  After three days of fasting, praying and repenting, Ananias prayed and restored Saul’s vision and commissioned him to the Jews, Gentiles and Kings (all of whom belong to Father).

Friend, I believe the blindness the church has endured is due in part to our unwillingness to acknowledge and honor the other parts of the family of God.  There still exists preference, prejudice, and in places persecution toward other camps or brands of Christianity.  Our blindness is Father’s attempt to bring us to repentance for our gross sin.

Here’s a quick litmus test for spiritual blindness.

1. Do we consider our own church better than others?

2. Do we feel God is moving only in our spiritual stream? 

3. Have we purposefully distanced ourselves from (or snubbed) those who disagree with our theology?

4. Do we discount those who do not operate in the same spiritual gifts as we?

5. Have we caricatured others as “dry,” “dead,” “cold,” “flaky,” “fruity,” “radical,” “not my type,” etc…? 

If we have answered yes to any of these questions, we are blinded to the greatness of others… the beauty of the Body of Christ and the splendor of His manifold presence in the earth.  If we are still trying to set ourselves apart from the pack, or distinguish ourselves from the rest of God’s family, we have failed the test. 

True vision comes only when we know our place among the brethren.  I long for alignment in the body.  I cry for it.  The scales are a result of the divide between the church of grace and law, the church of the natural and the supernatural.  Let us repent and allow the hands of Ananias be laid on our eyes for the restoration of sight and the Apostolic commissioning.  The scales will fall.

It took me a long time to get used to the idea of laser eye surgery. I remember when I first heard about it, back in the day, perhaps 15 years ago when it first came out, and thinking “holy shit!”

The idea of some laser machine fixing my eyeballs so that I would never have to wear glasses or contacts again was so amazing. The very idea that something like that could even be a remote possibility was almost too delicious of an idea to really be true. I remember discussing it with my father, and both of us being in awe of the concept. It gave me an almost reverential view of medical technology. I thought, “oh, I’ll give it ten years, and let them work out the kinks”.

So when I ended up in the laser eye center on the date my eyeballs were to be lasered into shape, approximately 15 years after the fact, and the doctor asked me how long I was thinking of getting laser eye surgery, I answered truthfully. He didn’t seem surprised, and he didn’t say much to me, he just squinted down at my file. My file was pages upon pages of beautiful color renditions of my eyeballs. There were rainbows everywhere, representing the many inaccuracies in my vision picked up by some kind of wavefront analyzer. The rainbows must’ve meant something to him, or at least I hoped. At the very least, he was doing a good job of squinting down at the information and had a very good thoughtful doctor expression plastered on his face. He looked up at me, and smiled. “Very good!” he said. “All set.”

For years my eyeballs have been the bane of my existence. I have been so blind, that I cannot even find my glasses without my glasses. You can imagine how this might present a problem in life. I have worn contacts since I was 13, so that would be wearing contacts straight for 18 years since I am now the ripe old age of 31. For 18 years straight, I have been able to pretend that I have 20/20 vision, simply by conducting a twice daily ritual that I used to refer to as “putting in” or “taking out my eyeballs”. At times, this ritual would cause great angst, since the contact lenses did not always cooperate. They were not reliable friends. At these times, I would be reminded that I was indeed quite blind, and unable to see farther then 10 inches from my face. The contact lenses got dirty easily from the myriad of activities that I do that involve copious amounts of dirt, and they stuck to my eyes or felt like sandpaper. Occasionally, they would decide to fall out at inappropriate times, such as driving on the freeway at seventy miles an hour, or when I was away for the weekend at a friend’s house and didn’t have another pair of contacts with me.

Contact lenses became a further hassle when, at the age of 27, I was told I had astigmatism and needed better, differently shaped lenses that also happened to cost twice as much. And my eyes, weary of the struggle of having things put in them each day, began to get annoyed sooner and sooner with the contact lenses. This meant I had to throw them away earlier in their life span, and despite numerous coaching sessions between the eyeballs and the lenses, nobody seemed to like each other anymore.

There were always the glasses. Glasses never had a problem with either of the eyeballs, they tended to be rather easygoing. On with the glasses, wow I can see, off with the glasses, oh shit I’m blind- where are my glasses? The glasses always had to be carefully set directly near me whenever they came off, or else I might not live another day. In fact, in matters of life or death, my struggle with the eyesight ranked high. During my hippie days, I was positive that the world was going to end shortly. Probably, this would entail running and yelling and building forts in the woods, at which point my stash of canned goods and underused backpacking equipment was going to come in great handy. But what was I going to do about the eyesight? During the Armageddon, when my last box of contact lenses ran out, and my last pair of glasses were stepped on during some frenzied stampede, what was I going to do? I would be useless. A burden to someone, or worse, left to flail around helplessly or starve to death while natural selection quickly plucked me out of the gene pool.

So I wasn’t surprised when filling out the initial questionnaire at the laser eye center, to discover that the number 4 checkbox under “Reasons Why You Want to Have LASIK” was indeed “safety in an emergency or other situation where there is no time to find glasses or contacts”. I checked that one with a flourish.

On surgery day, they gave me enough Valium to sink a ship. Well, not to sink a ship, that’s an exaggeration. But enough Valium to allow someone to willingly stick their eyeballs under a huge laser machine, for re-shaping. Because no matter how many times people tell you it’s the best thing that ever happened to them, and no matter how many times you read the statistics that claim 99% satisfaction, there is nothing natural about having laser beams shape your eyes. And even as the Valium set in, and I laid on a chair in the bone chilling temperatures of the “surgical suite”, there was a tiny voice somewhere hollering at me “Nooooooo! What are you doing????? Ruuuuuuuuun! Laser beams + eyeballs = TERRIBLE IDEA!!!!!”

I couldn’t feel much, but everything went gray. This perhaps is the most frightening moment, in a lost gray world, and there is some pressure on your eyeball. It is remarkably unpleasent, but not painful. I definitly wondered if I would ever see again. Soon, the lasers are working, dull orange pulses of blurry light, I try to watch them and hold my eyes steady as they get to work. They tell you it doesn’t matter, that if you move your eyes, the laser beams have a tracking system.

When it was over, in an amazingly quick burst of time, I sit up, and am surprised to see on the clock above the chair that it is 10:30. Before, the clock could’ve been a smoke detector, for all I knew, a white blurry blob. Otherwise, I’m in a Valium dream, and there are doctors shaking my hand and telling me “congratulations” and to “enjoy my new eyes”. I feel like a bionic woman, half woman, half robot, and that the lasers have someone shaped who I am. I stumble out into the waiting room wearing black goggles, and my driver, who also happens to be my boyfriend, collects my things, gathers me up, and gets me to the car somehow, wisely suggesting we take the elevator instead of the stairs on the way down.

Now it is the following day. I have 20/20 vision. I have normal human eyeballs. I’m glad I took the day off, not because I needed it, but because I wanted to wander around the city, and look at the world as if seeing it for the first time. Because it was my eyeballs, by themselves, seeing it. There will never be any stumbling around looking for glasses. There will never be anymore dreading of campfires, because the smoke will ruin my contacts. I can sleep over at anyone’s house I want if I have too much to drink, without paying big bucks for a cab because I don’t have my contact stuff with me. Oh, it will be the little things! And, the big things too, like Armegeddon. Bring it on!

“Greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world.”-1John 4:4

“Try on these,” Tom said with a cheesy smile, handing me yet another pair of glasses. “How do they feel?” he asked.

“They feel fine…” I mumbled. For 18 years I’d come here; for 18 years Tom attempted to correct my vision. I often wondered if he really was an optometrist, or merely a slick salesman. He’d shown no signs of intelligence regarding the correct function of human eyesight. It was as though this man had no idea what he was talking about; yet he cleverly sold me a new set of lenses each time. The sign across the window read “Tom: Solo Optometrist for over 4,000 years.” I kept coming back; he was the only optometrist I’d ever found in our world, but I didn’t believe the man was wise in the least bit.

“Oh yes, they’re definitely you,” Tom said enthusiastically. What a salesman, I thought, always asking how they feel, never what I see. Truth be told, I couldn’t see a thing, my vision was blurred in the left and tinted blue in the right, but the frames looked becoming; Tom told me it’s what’s on the outside that counts.

I looked in the mirror. “I look disgusting!” I gasped, turning to the side “I need to lose at least 30 pounds!”

“It’s not my fault you’re cursed with an overweight body and ungodly ugly facial features.” It was these unsightly jabs by Tom that beat my confidence and ripped apart my innards. When I saw myself with the vision he placed in front of my eyes I was a clump of dirt, un-useful for anything and hated by all. It’d always been that way. His lenses were the cause of intense migraines, plummeting self esteem, and no desire to live. For 18 years I’d returned to Tom’s cesspit of horrid vision, each visit longing for something more, longing to see a different picture through my frames.

“I’m sick of this! I can’t see a thing, Tom! You offer me lenses? You offer me soot in my eyes is what you offer me. I can’t see a thing! I was born with terrible vision; I couldn’t see a thing. You promised me vision with no bounds, a life of thrills! Do I look happy; do I look pleasured beyond belief? You lied. For years I’ve come to see you, for years your senseless solutions provide nothing but problems. You give me new lenses, I look in the mirror; I’m too fat. You give me free prescriptions, I look at the TV; the world’s too dark to live in. You give me more lenses, I stare at my family; I don’t see love. Your lenses don’t work, Tom! I want more! I want something new! I want to see life with clarity, with truth, with joy, how it was meant to be seen!”
Hearing my screams of frustration, a large man entered from the corner door. Tom squirmed in his seat. I’d never seen a soul in this pit besides Tom; truthfully, I thought Tom was the owner, but the man’s nametag proved otherwise. The pin neatly positioned above his suit pocket read “Yaweh, Owner.”

There’s no way, I thought to myself, all this time there was a higher power to run to for vision? “Are you the owner of this place?” my voice shook with anticipation.

“Yaweh, I AM” the strong voice replied.

“I can’t see. I want more than what this mediocre salesman throws my way; his vision doesn’t work.”

“Try these on,” the owner approached me with assurance. I squinted; I could see the structure he held. I was drawn to them instantly; the frames were wooden, stained red. The owner moved closer with a smile on his face… “At last, darling, at last.” As the nosepiece rested upon my worn nose, I opened my eyes. The sight was horrific; I collapsed on the hardwood floor. I didn’t want to open my eyes; what I saw in that glimpse was horrendous.

Tom, my vision coach for 18 years was less of a man and more of a beast. His face dripped with beauty, but his hands were covered in blood; they were quick to kill and ready to fight. The body which once bore a slick suit was now covered by a ragged pair of torn shorts. Tom’s calves were strong, his feet covered in dirt from all nations, he’d traveled many places. A to-do list was written across his right forearm: steal, kill, destroy, deceive, mock, distort, scare, tempt, corrupt, spread. The list of ungodly offenses continued across his sweat covered chest: separate, trap, plunder, burn, cut, steal, shatter. Upon his left forearm began another list: Darfur, Niger, Iraq, France, America, Norway, Peru, Japan, India. The list wrapped around his biceps and travelled from the top of his shoulders to the base of his back. Tom wasn’t who I thought he was. He knew nothing of vision; he knew only of misrepresentation, deformity and disfigurement. He was ruthless, his tongue released lies, and his hands offered nothing profitable.

The service table once covered in choice frames was now plastered with weaponry. A closer look at the lenses I once saw the world through revealed a disgusting selection of opaque optics. Nothing my consultant had to offer was worth anything. The lenses were cheap and distorted! They were all cracked, marred, tinted or painted! It was the concave illusion that led me to believe I was large and worthless. He deceived me. I looked into the mirror with my new lenses, with the vision the owner had given me, the same clear vision he had. I was beautiful, I was useful, I had a sense of purpose! The cracked lenses I’d worn for so long has distorted my view of reality. Though I hadn’t seen it before, there was a world outside of my own. The owner of this establishment heard my cry. The world was now crisp, somewhat scary, yet truthful. I’d never seen things so clearly. With new vision I looked to the owner; I saw a Lamb, a Lion, a Father, a King, an Artist, a Servant, a Ruler, a Comforter, a Lover, an Engineer, a Judge, a Friend, and a Counselor. I saw God.

“What, what do I do?” I said with tears in my eyes, oblivious to a proper response.

“You tell them what you’ve seen,” he said with a grin, “You tell them what I’ve shown you.”

*
“Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.” Ephesians 6:10-13

I’m convinced that Satan hates you, and would love nothing more than to distort your view of yourself, the world, and your God. We were born into this world with imperfect vision, so run to the God who makes all things new, the God who sees all things clearly. I once heard that Satan doesn’t bother those who aren’t in his way. Why would Satan get in your business if you weren’t a threat? Oh, to be a threat! To be a threat is what we live for! I am personally sick of him. I’ve dealt with his whispers, I’ve seen his destruction, and I’ve witnessed his plots of fear. I’ve also witnessed weak-willed Christians who don’t know what to do when they’re attacked.

May I introduce to you the God of the Universe, the God of the Israelites. See things as God sees things, not as Satan would have you see them. When you’re on God’s side and you’re attacked, there is no time for fear. When you’re in battle, your immediate posture should be to stand with feet planted firm and an ear towards your Commander. When you’re attacked, you fight back; you do not cower in fear, you do not shake in your boots, you draw your sword and sling your stones. You may be the only person in the room but you are not alone. You may feel weak, but you have been provided with perfect selection of protection by the Creator of All Things. He has handed you the helmet of salvation, the sword of the Spirit, the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of faith. Our armor is listed in Ephesians 6:10-20, to be unprepared is our fault, God’s given us the supplies to stand firm.

I used to be a very scared person, I was aware of spiritual warfare and it freaked the living daylights out of me. This summer in Kosova I learned something; God wins, he’s more powerful, he’s my Dad, he’s got my back, he’s always watched over me and he’s not going to stop any time soon. I learned that in order to accomplish what God has for us to accomplish, we must see as God sees. We have no reason to fear. Do not fear those who can harm your body but can’t touch your soul. I also long to tell you with a loving heart that Satan is real, he thrives upon temptation; don’t play into the trap of fear. Perfect love drives out fear, but you’re never exempt from the mission of a corrupt spirit.
I don’t long for their attention, but wisdom has shown me that to walk side by side with Jesus is to be trailed by an army of opposition. I look around and I see a group of people buzzing with spiritual excitement. God is working and he’s working with all his muscle. But open your eyes, see the truth, view the world as God sees it; the Kingdom is thriving, but the rejected angel, Satan, is working too.

If you’ve been given the vision and provided with protection, what have you done with it?

Crisp-eyed and armed with truth,
-Jaime S.

Keep Going:
What is the armor of God? How can you wear the belt of truth, or the breastplate of righteousness?
Does Satan see you as competition, or a crippled opponent worthy of laughter?
What lenses do you see the world through?

When you visit a website and find something that you want to read, or you receive an email or an E-newsletter, that you want to read on the screen,  select the text (Control +A), copy it to the clipboard (Control + C), open the word-processing programme and paste in the text (Control + V).

Select the text again (Control + A) and then select a larger size font from the menu. (This will help you to see the text better and make it easier to read). Save the file. (I usually choose a name like junk and then continually overwrite this file as needed).

Read the file and then when you are finished with it, delete the file.  Some people have probably thought of this already. I am writing this for the people who did not think of it yet!

Also if you are composing an email or an article on the computer, do it first in a word processing program in a large text size.  Then you will be able to see your text better and  find your mistakes.

Having perfect vision is dream of everyone. Unfortunately, some don’t have it. Well, if you’re also one of those who’s vision is not perfect and you’re going to purchase contact lenses, just take little time and see if this tip can work for you.

If you are getting ready to go purchase your first pair of glasses or contact lens, you should first consider trying some Vitamin A supplements for a while, before spending all that money on expensive eye gear. Or perhaps you can also try simple and easy eye exercise. By doing simple eye exercise, it will help you to get better eyesight and it will also save a lot of money.

Nobody tells you anything. Not. Nothing. Nobody tells you that they see you can’t see them. That they see the smudge on your glasses, the gray film, the smear that obscures what you think is them. They see that you don’t see clearly and they don’t say. They are smug in their silence about the smudge, about what they know you don’t know. It gives them the upper hand, the ace up the sleeve, the up yours attitude whereby they dismiss you anyway. No matter what you claim they can claim (silently, smugly, superciliously to themselves) that you don’t know nothing, you don’t see clearly anyhow anyway anywho. Little do they know how the smudge you see through (that you know is there and allow) obscures no more than a prism obscures the light that it splits and shatters, scatters and spreads, exposing the thin layers, the nearly translucent nothings, that the thing is made of.

I’m feeling a bit like a blogger who has lost her words (well, only a little, as you’ll see I manage to write on). I’ve been trying to capture what I am feeling and words on a screen cannot do it justice. My Frack got his new glasses yesterday and they are amazing. What tugged at my heartstrings most was how PROUD he was to wear them. Up until now he has worn his other glasses without complaint. I can’t imagine they were comfortable weighing down his adorable, little face and denting in the sides of his sensitive nose. Even so I was surprised at how excited he was to have his new glasses. I guess the fact that everyone in the optometrist’s office kept commenting on his extreme level of good looks in his new frames probably egged on his sense of pride (and let’s face it, an almost five year old loves to be the center of attention).

Of course during his fitting for his new frames, little brother Frick escaped from the tiny room with all the children’s frames and was peering at me through a window in the waiting area standing on a chair of course and saying “Hi, Mommy!” over and over. It is guaranteed chaos when we trek to the optometrist’s. It’s because it is a place wholly unequipped for the five and under set.

As we exited the office (thankfully with all display cases still intact) and I took pictures of Frack’s beaming smile in his new frames, I thought about what it meant. His vision has improved. He can see. My prayer for improved sight from so long ago had finally been answered.

Over the years my prayers have changed. I felt so helpless when Frack was initially diagnosed and it made me feel more in control in the sad, dark hours of the night to send a prayer out into the universe. I figured it couldn’t hurt an already challenging situation. Through this process as you know I first prayed for the betterment of his vision. Eventually, I let that prayer go (as my acceptance of his condition grew and all that went with it) and I started to pray for different things. I began to pray for strength and courage. One of the most important changes I remember was asking that wherever our journey took us as a family in life, that we would be in a place that offered the best possible eye care for my children. We moved to Florida and the rest is history. Amen.

I was thinking about my vision and how important it is to me when I remembered how it began. So, I thought I’d write about. Hope you enjoy..

My love affair with my vision started when I was a young tot in third grade. That’s when I got my first pair of glasses. They were the attractive ones (tongue in cheek) with beige coloring and diamond cut inserts on the sides. I loved my glasses since I could see clearly when I wore them. Go figure. Anyways…here’s a true story:

It was a beautiful summer’s day. My friend and I were out catching pollywogs at one of my favorite places..the pollywog pond. The pollywog pond was a housing development gone bad since it never got further then a bulldozer digging up dirt and leaving a big hole in the ground. When it rained, the water gathered. Hence, it turned into a pond. With time, the pollywogs came. It was fun catching pollywogs in a bucket and taking them home. I’d keep them in the backyard. I loved watching these swimmers sprought legs and begin the maturation process into reptilehood. My mom didn’t like it, though. “Get those filthy things out of here. Put them back where they belong,” she’d say. Sometimes she could be a party pooper.

Back to the story…as my friend and I were checking out the new batch of pollywogs, a voice came from nowhere. “Get out of here. You don’t belong here. This is my property.” I looked up and saw Stinky, the brat from the next block. Stinky’s real name was Billy. He got his nickname since anyone with a sense of smell would know he was around. He could never sneak up on anyone. Stinky and I were enemies. I used to beat him in baseball all the time and he didn’t like it. He would tease me mercilessly in front of others which I didn’t like. We couldn’t stand the sight of each other.

I stood up. “This isn’t your property. It’s my dad’s,” I replied. “I said get out of here,” he said as he moved closer. “No. Make me,” I retorted. So, with that, he started pushing me. He made the first move. I pushed back. Then, a couple pushes later, my glasses flew off. That did it. You can mess with me, but don’t mess with my glasses.

If anyone is familiar with Curly and the “Pop Goes The Easel” skit…that was what I was like. (Every time Curly would hear the song ‘Pop Goes The Weasel’ he’d go insane and start flinging his arms and punching anything/everything in sight). Stinky and I were fighting when suddenly he got a bloody nose. He turned and started yelling, “I’m gonna tell my mom on you!” He was running home. “Oh yeah! Ya big sissy!” was my response.

Then, my friend and I went to find my coveted glasses. We found them. It was a joy. As I put my glasses on, I remember thinking how nice it was to see clearly. It’s the simple things that matter. Ahh…childhood memories.