Eyes Squeezed Shut

Our family went to Disney World in 2013 after I had completed all of my breast cancer treatment and we did this ride called The Rockin’ Roller Coaster. This roller coaster takes you from 0to60MPH in just 2.8 seconds—practically how a pilot in a superjet feels taking off from an aircraft carrier—yes, that speed. 5G’s worth of speed and pressure. 

Well, I’m glad I didn’t know all of that before I got on that ride. My husband Vern was going to ride with Grace who was in 3^rd grade at the time, and I was going to ride with Isaac, who was in 1^st grade and barely pushing 40^th percentile on the growth chart. But he had met the height requirement for the ride, so we were good to go.

I guess some red flags should’ve gone off when 3 ride attendants came to put all of their body weight into Isaac’s seat harness to be sure he was in there GOOD. Because when we started to accelerate, I began to comprehend that I may be arrested for putting my youngest child in extreme danger as we corkscrewed and inverted our way through the ride in the dark.

They took a picture of the 4 of us on that ride…Yeah. There was Vern and Grace eyes wide open grinning ear to ear hands in the air doing the happy seat dance.

And then there was me and Isaac. Eyes squeezed shut, mouths in full grimace, holding onto the seat bars with death grip white knuckles.

And honestly, I think that most of us are trying to keep our eyes closed during this crazy 5G ride called LIFE. We don’t really want to see the next corkscrew. We don’t want to see the craziness raging on either side of us. Sometimes we don’t even want to see the person sitting next to us. We are just trying to survive the ride in the dark.

The human eyeball is perhaps one of God’s greatest inventions. It is essential to our daily function (for most of us), yet so delicate that spending too much time looking into a bright light can damage it.

But we need light. Something in our nature craves it. Why is that? Why do we need light?

Well, I think there are three reasons why we do. First, we need light for our safety. So I’m not sure if you guys know this, but none of us were designed to be able to see in the dark. We lack a tapetum lucidum (tah-PEE-dum LU-see-dum)—a tissue layer in the eye that allows for night vision. So when I go on one of my early morning hikes during our family camping trips, I start out long before the sun comes up, which means I have to wear a headlamp so I can see the trail. Yes I look really silly with it on.  But it’s either THAT, or no hike in the early morning—it just wouldn’t be safe because I couldn’t see where I was going without it—I don’t have tapetum lucidum.

Second, we make better decisions in the light. When Vern and I were dating, we had agreed that we wanted to keep our bodies pure for each other until our wedding night. We had read somewhere that people’s ability to control themselves dive bombs at around 10PM—which adult bodies define as “dark” based on a bunch of boring biology. So one of our rules was a 10PM curfew. We had a handful of friends who agreed to help us stay accountable to that, including a policeman, who would regularly patrol down the street in front of Vern’s house at 10PM. If he saw Vern and I still executing our goodbyes, he would woop! His siren and turn his big light on us and use his bullhorn…”step AWAY from the girl, Vern.” Well… the point is our ability to make good choices in the dark is remarkably bad.

Third, our desire to live comes alive in the light. Something happened to me long before I met my husband Vern that brought my whole happy life screeching to a halt. My doctors advised that I should not be left alone as the incident left me suffering from a high level of anxiety and depression—a clear recipe for suicide. So I was sent home to North Dakota and I burrowed under my bed sheets with the lights off. I found comfort in the dark because I didn’t want to live, and in the dark, I didn’t feel the need to try. But the sunlight would stream into the window and I began a long journey of heart ache to get out from underneath those bed sheets. Because the desire to live comes alive in the light.

So I think we crave light because in the light we are safe. We make good decisions. We are able to function better. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that humans spend a lot of time trying to make brighter longer lasting light bulbs. In fact, the newest light technology boasts a light brightness of 300 lumens per watt that lasts over 12 years. Compare that to the first light bulb, which had a light brightness of 2 lumens per watt and lasted for maybe 3 days. But even the newest technology available in the home is only 60% efficient at creating light.

Why is that? Well, scientists such as myself can come up with all sorts of physical reasons why it’s not possible to achieve 100% efficiency in creating light. But the bottom line is that we don’t understand light well enough to make a light bulb that is 100% efficient.

Still, we need light. We crave light. And even though we do not fully understand light, we work really hard with the hope that one day, we will understand it.

Now if you are a Christian, and I don’t assume that all of you are, and I’m still crazy about you so relax, your heart is already thinking about Jesus. In John 8:12, Jesus says “I am the light.” So to a Christian, Jesus is THE LIGHT. We need Him. We crave Him. Our safety, our ability to make good decisions, and our overall ability to function are dependent on Him.  Because just as Paul says in his letter to the Thessalonians, we are children of the day! We are not meant to live our lives in darkness. 

Personally, I think God intentionally created us without tapetum lucidum tissue in our eyes to make it perfectly clear that we are not meant to live in darkness. 

He had a better idea.

And II Corinthians 4:6 tells us exactly what that idea was:

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light [that’s God] shine in our hearts [WHY?] to give us the light of the knowledge [what kind of knowledge?] of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.

It was the perfect idea. The ultimate light –His light--God's light--would live in us. Not 2 or even 300 lumens per watt—but the 100% efficient ultimate light source of The Lord Jesus at our disposal for free.

So the question is…what kind of source are YOU tapping into? A little light bulb that will last for a time? Or Jesus Himself who will last for eternity? You must choose. For you were not created with a tapetum lucidum in your eye--you require a light source. One choice may help you survive your time on this planet. But the other will surely cause you to live beyond survival and actually thrive.

Thrive on a roller coaster with 5G's of speed and pressure? Yes. Exactly. With the right light. 

Come on, Baby--LEAN!!

I was giggling and terrified at the same time.

Vern and I were demonstrating a trust exercise to the 6th graders at Bible study last night. We had pushed against each others hands and walked our feet out further and further until all that was holding us up was the pressure we had on each other's hands.

"Come on, Baby--LEAN!!" my husband Vern said coaxingly. He apparently thought we could walk out a lot further than we already were.

Now you might think that I am an adventurous type of person. I love to camp and ride horses, and I am married to a Texas rodeo cowboy after all...but you would be wrong in thinking that about me.

Because I was fighting my body's panic as I stared at the short distance already between my nose and the floor. To disengage from leaning against Vern meant I would fall to the floor right on my face, which would really hurt. But I was not too excited about increasing the distance between our feet either as the probability of falling became increasingly apparent. This was an adventure I was not sure I should have signed up for.

I dragged my eyes off the ground and looked at Vern. Determination mixed with playfulness skidded across his face. So typical of my man. In his element now. Doing something off the charts with that ridiculous grin on his face that I can't resist. So keeping my eyes locked on his, together we took a few more steps out.

It was daring and extreme and I could hardly believe how far we had gone!

Then, keeping our eyes on each other and pressure on each others' hands, we started to close the distance and finally stood back up straight to a chorus of thunderous applause from the 6th graders.

Kids were eager to try it themselves and the discussion afterwards about who we put our trust in was filled with passion and excitement. Because in a topic like this, Jesus will always steal the show.

But if we are going to be transparent about it, I think I got more out of that lesson than the kiddos did. 

You see, Vern and I have had our struggles in this life that have left us worn out and fed up with ourselves and each other. One step away from face planting to the floor.

Some of you know exactly what I am talking about.

But in that moment when he coaxed me to lean on him harder and our eyes locked--it confirmed for me what I already knew. Vern is trustworthy. He is strong. He is encouraging. He can take it when I lean into him.

And when I focus on those traits of his, I find myself leaning hard into him and as a team we do some pretty darn incredible things.

So Ladies, tonight when the kiddos go to bed, put aside your fed up worn out self. Take your husband to the nearest large expanse of floor in your house. Put your palms together and start walking those feet out. Ask God to remind you of the strong qualities your spouse has so that you will lean harder into that man.

He can take it. But more than that. He will thrive on your trust in him because that is how he was designed by The Creator. 

Together you can do incredible things! So come on, Baby!  LEAN!!

Off-Roading Garling Style Part 6: Scars and Final Thoughts

“Can you still see it?” Vern asked me as I absentmindedly checked for stray hairs I may have missed during his haircut.

“Hmmm?” I hadn’t really been listening, I was so caught up in just cutting his hair. I seem to cherish these simple moments more now since the wreck.

“The scar on the back of my head. Can you still see it?”

I ran my finger along the 4 inch scar at the back of his head, remembering days not so long ago when it was nearly twice that length and raised up off his scalp in a ridge that would oftentimes spontaneously open up and ooze some sort of left over Oklahoma dirt crud that had been ground into his skull during those barrel rolls with our camper last year.

“Yep. It’s still there, but not so obvious anymore.”

I was pleased that it was well-healed now and less likely to do the crud oozing thing anymore. But Vern was disappointed, which made me laugh for a minute. What is it with men and their devotion to scars? Or maybe it’s just my man who loves his scars?

“I hope I get to keep these scars in heaven.” He said with a sigh.

And in that moment, I finally understood at least this one thing about the critter God had given to me as a husband. Vern’s scars are proof to him that he is stronger than what tries to kill him. And that knowledge gives him the courage he needs to rise up and be the warrior God intended for him to be.

Scars don’t do that for me. I carry most of my scars deep inside where nobody can see them. Scars of grief. Hurt. Regret. Loss.

To be completely transparent with you, I have to say that there are many scars I’ve got lurking about inside. And I think, sweet ones, if you are honest with yourselves, you would admit you have many scars too. Perhaps someone precious to you has died. Or a friendship that should never have ended went up with a “poof”. Maybe you were betrayed by a fellow Christian and it left you confused and hurt. Or you have set up housekeeping in a pit of depression and lost all hope that you will ever get out of there. Pieces of your heart scattered to the wind.

And then you convince yourselves (or at least I do) that those scars have all healed nicely. And then something happens to remind you of that scar, and it starts slowly oozing crud again.

What do you do?

Well, I’ll tell you what I do. First, I cry a little. Well, maybe a lot. Because I’m a girl and that’s what we do first off.

But the next step—now don’t miss this one—the very next step is that I go to The One who knows all about scars. I go to Jesus. I dump the whole load on Him. I just keep throwing those oozing scars at His feet and He pours His grace over them every single day for as long as I need Him to do it. Because He specializes in healing Wounds of the Heart.

And then one day you realize that those scars don’t ooze much anymore.

And then one day you realize that Jesus turned the scar into a shield against the things of this world that strain to beat you down and steal your joy.

And then one day you discover that you encourage others by telling them about that scar.

And you find yourself stumbling to your feet, determination flaring from your eyes, and a sly grin on your face that tells the world you have found your purpose, and it’s not to stand in a corner hiding from battles.

Your purpose is to rise up and be the warrior that God intended for you to be.

And it was those oozing scars laid at Jesus’ feet that got you to understand who you are. A child of The King. Loved by Him beyond all comprehension. A Warrior for Christ.

So rise up now! Take your place! The scars—both the healed ones and the oozing ones--are part of who you are!

Scars are most certainly a distinct feature of The One who died for us. By His wounds we are healed (Isaiah 53:5b). So find your way to the great physician. Ask Him to heal you and find your place among those who were lost but are now found. It is time.