Friday, July 8, 2011

The ridgepole

I'm a little flummoxed at the moment.  After three + years of writing this blog, suddenly--without any warning that I noticed (which is, of course, not to say there was no warning) the 'dashboard' of blog-writing has changed.  Icons, rather than words, are used to navigate between writing, editing and viewing a post.  And, in case you didn't know this about me, I'm a words person.  I can read much more easily than I can recognize someone else's icons. Sigh.

I had a doctor's appointment this morning and got to talking to the doctor's assistant (no longer called a nurse, as though that's pejorative, which seems odd to me, but there it is!) about how using the computer to imput medication, history, etc has finally gotten easier for her.  But it took a while. She likes writing things down.  Taking notes by hand helps her remember them.  Recently she took a CPR refresher class, was given a sheet of paper on which all the information she needed was printed.  She immediately turned over the page and began taking notes. One of the instructors came over to her and said, "You don't have to re-copy what is already written for you."  So she laid down her pen, but it just about killed her to do it.
 "I get that because I'm the same way," I told her."You need your hand writing in order for your brain to think." 
"Yes," she answered. "That's exactly it. I didn't know there was anyone else out there like me." She began to walk out of the room, then poked her head back in the door. "Will you tell my supervisor that?"
"Happy to," I said. 

As I sat waiting for the doctor, I thought about how important it is for people to feel like they aren't alone in this world, that there are others like them, even down to their little quirks and ticks.  In fact, it's when people point out flaws, that we most want to know there are others who suffer them.  Don't we?  When I was young, I was the only left-handed grandchild in a rather large family (one of my uncles was also left-handed, but he was an in-law and that didn't count to my grandmother--and therefore, to me).  And my grandmother believed that being left-handed was definitely NOT a good thing.  She was forever pointing out my differentness, deep-sighing about the allowances that had to be made for me at family meals, about how I couldn't cut with scissors, or sew correctly, and made a mess on my hand by simply writing my own name.  I desperately wanted even just one other person to let me know that being left-handed was okay...
Now I know many lefties, married one, and LOVE being part of that club, which actually proves my point, doesn't it?  It's the knowing I'm part of a club that has turned this 'flaw' into an asset in my mind.

On the other hand, we also wish to be originals.  But, unless we're pyscho- or socio-paths (and I don't know the difference), we usually wish our gifts to be unique.  We want to believe no one else in all of history has been as creative or devout or smart or beautiful or...but we aren't. Well, we are and we aren't.  There's been no one else ever created exactly like us.  But there is nothing new under the sun. 

This is the ridgepole on which we live.  This is the truth from which our made-in-His-Image life begins, that we are created uniquely, but we are also part of everyone else who has ever lived.  We are His by ourselves, but we are His together as well. 

And, frankly, I'll take that ridgepole, I'll walk it safely, not fighting it, not hoping to be different or trying to fly off in my own direction or looking for something new that He never intended. 

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