Defining Beauty

While traveling today I read an article in the U.S. Airways Magazine by Brion O’Connor about a topic I barely remember.  It included the story of an artist, Fritz Drury, who studies and understands beauty better than most.  He spent some time with the author’s brother, and they were discussing what makes something beautiful, which is a concept very hard to define. 

They came to agree upon the one theme for defining beauty:  contrast. 

 

From mountains to oceans, to paintings to performing art, contrast is what awes us and creates the feeling of beauty in so many cases.  Sometimes it’s as simple as the contrast from our daily view, something so different than what we’ve grown accustomed to, that we can’t help but see it as beautiful.  But we might not have seen it’s beauty otherwise. 

Contrast is where we find beauty in life too, where God shows us His wonders. 

Watching an adult walk down the street is no miracle and is hard to see beauty in when you see thousands of the same every day.  But learn that the young man walking down the street in front of you is recovering from a stroke that partially paralyzed him, and that loved ones feared he may never walk again, and you see beauty in those steps. 

 

Hearing a story on the news of a person found deceased is sad and far from beautiful, when you know that someone has lost their loved one.  But learn that the family has been searching for 11 years and celebrates the selfless volunteers who gave their time and talent, and never gave up, and you see beauty in the pain. 

Reading a message from a woman who is getting ready for work seems mundane and ordinary.  But learn that she had been out of work for over a year and desperate, and you see beauty in that every day task.

 

Seeing a mom watch her son play at the park, just like a thousand other moms is forgotten in an instant.  But learn that she has tears in her eyes because her son is playing with other kids, and feels typical for a few minutes despite his disability, and you’ll see beauty. 

 

God’s work is best displayed in the contrasts.

 

Every few months I get upgraded to first class on a flight.  I try to hide my excitement and act like I have that special treatment all the time.  I look around at people who really do fly first class regularly, and realize that they aren’t enjoying it nearly as much as me.  They’re used to it.  It’s only so cool when you’re used to the back of the plane begging for water. 

 

Despite that, I still want first class all the time.  Despite the beauty of the contrast from struggles to overcoming, I still want no struggles.  But God’s work is best seen in the contrasts, I remind myself time and time again. 

 

Our two big valleys for God to use are Michael’s health and everything that comes with that (financial challenges, emotional challenges, logistical challenges), and our ongoing search for Austin. 

 

Right now, the only real contrasts in our life is the difficulty of circumstances vs. the attitude to persevere and find Hope no matter what.   But I keep believing that one day, the contrast God shows in our life will be that much greater and show His work that much more. 

 

I will keep believing.   

 

  

Abaco Islands, Bahamas

Abaco Islands, Bahamas

Moments

Every bad day has some good in it if you look.  One day while we were still in the hospital this week, the boys came so we could have lunch together.  I love this open space to enjoy some time together, and they love this open space to run and play.   

Follow me on Bloglovin.com!
************************

Dreams

Only about six weeks after Michael’s last hospitalization (on Christmas), the next episode of Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome, began.  For four weeks, he was up and down, with us knowing we’d inevitably end up here, in the hospital once again.  It’s been over thirteen years of these cycles, and I’m mostly used to the routine and can tell doctors and nurses what the orders are or should be, who to consult, and can recite the medical history in my sleep. 

sunrise view, St. Johns River, Baptist Hospital

But I still hate it. 

I still have the little dreams of things that would make everything more bearable.  I’ve always hesitated to ask God for specifics, because I believe that praying for His will and praying that I can accept that and have the strength needed is what changes my heart, instead of just my situation.  But I’m now praying specifically and selfishly- there is only one possible area of root cause of the CVS that we’ve never explored, and that requires a geneticist.  And getting in to see a geneticist isn’t simple.  So we also need the support of our primary care doctor, and then still only might get in.  After years of having no hope for new things to try and test for, this small glimmer of hope that there could be more than we know, and that could lead to potential new treatments, is big.

That’s my new hope today.

But while I was thinking about that one big hope, I started thinking of other things that I might ask for too.  And while my main prayer continues to be for His will and for strength, I sure would also love:

– chances to go away as a family within a few weeks of the end of a cycle, since that is our highest chance of Michael having enough good days pieced together that we could really enjoy it and my kids worry less about their sick Dad than just about having fun.  (Not really realistic since finances and work schedules don’t play nice with last minute excursions, but maybe one day)

–  more flexibility in work schedules and less commuting hours so I could better balance/juggle the needs at home while still providing.  (I’m fortunate and grateful to work with people who are so understanding of the occasional need to make a hospital room my office, but doesn’t help the daily battle)

–  less fight with disability people to ease the financial burden. (thankful there is some, and thankful for God always providing, but this isn’t a cheap illness to manage)

– hospital rooms with sleeper couches and micro fridges (for a spouse who really can’t leave much, who has had such a room once, it’s the dream!)

Okay, okay, I can deal without the last one.  But God, as I sit beside my husband’s hospital bed once again, I do pray for healing, for strength, for a doctor willing to pursue our last avenue, and for help with finding ways to balance all these things.  You know it’s overwhelming and you know our needs, so I ask that you fill them in ways that we can honor you through.  No matter what you give us, we’ll do our best, but I do pray for these things.  For my husband, my boys, and myself.  Amen.