Ready For My Burton Close-Up

Interior Monologue: "If I lay here nice and quiet and still, maybe my wife and son won't notice I'm awake. Slow....shallow breaths.....like Macaulay Culkin pretending to be dead in My Girl....nope bladder its not time to evacuate yet.....just keep sleeping, just keep sleeping, sleeping sleeping sleeping......Ihop would be nice right now, as long as they didn't mind me eating in my Batman pj pants and Ghostbusters t-shirt......I think it worked.....they have no idea you're awake too. Congratulations sir, well played, I use to be but the learner now I am the master."

Sadly Exterior Dialogue: "Mark, are you awake? It's 4 a.m. and our son is wide awake.......could you take him into the living room? Maybe if he watches Cars he'll go to sleep."

Little Voice Dialogue: "Cars!! Oh yeah I like the Cars!!! Cars!!! Peas dada, no seepy. Yeah"

Insert groan here.

Not my favorite way to start the day. Since our son had been whining and complaining and picking his mommy's nose with his toes for over an hour and the noise (both from his laughter and her telling him to stop) had woken me up completely it seemed somewhat heroic of me to do that for my wife so she could get some more sleep.

However, the feeling is gone now. 3 hours later, and my daughter is thankfully still asleep, my wife is still asleep in our warm flannel sheeted bed, using my tortilla pillows. No matter how nice the pillow is when I first buy it, the weight of my large head and of course the brain inside it, within two months that pillow is officially a tortilla. I could buy more, but not in this town, so instead I stack three of those things together while being envious of my wife and her fluffy pillow. I'm in the living room, cold of course as the temps outside are in the single digits, spending time with insomnia's best friend, T.V.

What? Where is my son you ask? Where else, asleep in my side of the bed. After 45 minutes of Cars he realized he was sleepy, can't figure out why, and while I was peeling myself an orange in the dark (Oh yeah, I have mad skills) kitchen, he snuck off with his teddy bear, blanket and sippy cup to lay in bed with mommy. When I left the kitchen I heard nothing but the sounds of Mater "Shhhhhooooooot, I'm the world's best backwards driver. Ha ha ha" and my two kids and wife, all snoring.

Its funny, that snoring, its not normal, I may be tired but I'm telling you the snoring sounds like a cacophonous nasal choir of taunting. They're laughing at me in their sleep. Oh the joys of family. No matter what I do I can't seem to drown out the snoring induced laughter coming from the two bedrooms, "Haaaaaaa ha, haaaaaaaa ha." "Ha ha haaaaa daaaaaaada." "Dada ha, dada ha, ha ha ha, dada ha."

I tried watching a new netflix, The Social Network. But, I've got to tell you, I do not see what all the hype was about. That movie is boring. I know I shouldn't have expected fast paced action from a movie about a nerd (who gives the name Mark a bad rep by the way) who creates facebook, but still its not an exact word for word action for action biography and I would have appreciated an explosion of some sort, a car chase maybe, possibly even a few fart jokes Klumps style. I can't stand those jokes, but even that is better than the few laughs the movie tried to get. I am so tired of the always predictable drug usage in every teen and young adult oriented movies. Not every young person breaks the law and delves into illegal drug use. Yet it seems like that's all people my age and younger do for fun. Its like the writer and director figured there wasn't a lot of laughs in the movie so they threw in a background shot of two girls using the biggest drug paraphernalia I've ever seen knowing that at least a few people will laugh. With really good movies last year like True Grit and The King's Speech, Inception and Toy Story 3, I really don't see why this one was so popular. Plus if I wanted to watch people arguing I'd still have cable and watch one of the dozens of terrible "reality" shows with unscripted yet still staged over the top drama. I turned it off.
I watched an episode of NCIS, and while I liked the explosion, I still couldn't get past the snoring in the background. So I grabbed the noise cancelling cordless surround sound headphones (had to buy them in seminary so I could watch movies while my wife did homework. I rarely spent more than an hour a night doing homework and she always had at least five hours of it) and started watching Tim Burton's Batman.

Now here I am at 7:15, finishing Batman Returns, knowing that any second my daughter, or my son, or my wife will wake up, rested and cheerful, sunny side up happy. There I'll be with my eyes darkened from lack of sleep in a way reminiscent of Tim Burton's favorite trademark sunken eyes on Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, struggling to smile like Christina Ricci in The Addams Family Values. Thank God for coffee. At least though, I had a chance to watch two of my favorite movies, and all before the time a sane person would normally arise from their slumber.

Here we go, the beginning of a day I've already begun. At least when they wake up, the taunting snores will stop. Coffee and Batman go well together.

BLT says.....oh the joys of family induced insomnia.

Restoring My Sight

Hello again.

Its been a while since I've written on my blog. There has been a reason for that although I'm sure not many have noticed a lack of my silly stories or adventures or my views on life. But for anybody who may want to know or may want to hear (or I guess the most proper term is "read") my thoughts I'm back to do that.

I've spent the last few months enduring one of the most difficult experiences of my life. I know I am a young(er) person from the perspective of many people but that doesn't mean what I have been going through hasn't been difficult. And it all started on vacation. My left eye has been blurry since spring of 2008 and although I had treatment for it in Los Angeles, when I moved back to Alaska the eye doctor in Juneau was shall we say less than concerned about. "It'll go away by itself, it just takes time." Two years later, with the vision not improving and the doctor not making appointments for me I figured that maybe my sight was damaged but could be corrected with glasses.

I decided to see the optometrist that treated my other eye six years ago on my vacation. I chose that doctor for a few reasons. One.....eye docs get pretty close to your face and I've had a few with nasty breath that made my stomach turn and hers was always very pleasant. Two....she has pretty eyes. I walked into her office expecting that I would be leaving with a prescription for a pair of glasses. However, I left with a referral to an opthamalogist, because the trouble in my eye was beyond her expertise.

The new doctor, who is very pleasant and kind and compassionate, after reviewing my eye and medical records, told me that my vision has been permanently compromised in my left eye and there's a chance I'll lose the sight in it altogether and have a 50/50 chance of the same thing happening to my right eye. He gave me glasses to wear, but not as corrective lenses, more like protective lenses to make sure my perfect right eye stays perfect.

This was not the news I wanted. Even with glasses, my left vision stays blurry. If I close my right eye and just use my left, I can't read or look at my kids or my wife. I quickly fell into depression accompanied by a 'woe is me' attitude and outlook. I became angry with the eye doctor in Juneau who didn't help me, and I became angry at the fact that living and serving as a pastor in a small town like Haines Alaska is a big reason why my sight is damaged. Had I been appointed somewhere else, somewhere bigger, when I look at my kids I wouldn't have to wink to see how beautiful they are.

In short I lost the joy of living a life that is abundantly blessed, in more ways than I can describe. My smile disappeared. In acting terms, I lost my motivation. I can't remember feeling more miserable than I have in the days since my first eye appointment. I didn't write on this blog because I didn't want to share funny stories, or adventures, I just wanted to be sad and alone.

What a terrible ending for a story, or it would be if that was the end. A few weeks ago I flew to Anchorage to see how the steroid treatments in my eye are working, if the headaches and pain and light sensitivity have been worth it. The cysts threatening to destroy my vision completely are either gone or drastically reduced, which was surprising to me because my vision isn't any better. That still is permanent. That wasn't good enough for me. How could God work wonders through a new medicine but not restore my sight? I shared that with Him, in my times of prayer that lately have ranged from anger to extreme desperation. I prayed and prayed for God to speak back, to answer my question.

He didn't speak. But, He rarely does things the way we ask Him to, because He's God and not us, He works in His own ways. I flew home on a Saturday morning. My first flight to Juneau was nice, it was calm and sunny and the plane was empty, nobody in the row in front of me, behind me, or next to me. After landing in Juneau I went over to the puddle jumper airlines to see if i could get a sooner flight home to be with the kids and my wife. An hour and a half later I was on an eight seater plane taking off the runway the same way I have a dozen times.

But, after takeoff, everything changed. Our pilot decided not to take us over the channel to Haines, instead flying us over Mendenhall Glacier and the mountain range behind it. I saw the amazing beauty of God's hands that morning. I stared out the window at the snow covered blue ice of the glacier, able to see the ridges and crevasses of it in ways I've never seen before, looking down cracks in the ice that may be hundred of years old. I flew between mountain peaks so close I thought I could touch them. I saw valleys with lush green trees, untouched by human hands, maintained instead by their creator's hands. I saw mountain lakes with thin layers of ice over them. I have never enjoyed flying in airplanes, if God intended people to fly, we'd all be Superman, that's what I believe. However, I know that God intended for me to fly that morning. He wanted me to see those mountains, that truly do echo gloria by the way, circle the glacier, admire the trees and gaze at the lakes. He wanted to me to see that even with an eye that doesn't see too well, I can still the wonder of His hands, the beauty of His creation. I could have seen it all along, because the mountains I flew over I can see from my living room window, I just chose not to look at them, or anything but the sadness of my heart. I prayed for God to talk to me, He answered by showing me what I should have seen all along, He answered by restoring my sight.

My vision has been impaired twice. The damage in my eye has made seeing difficult, and my attitude because of it prevented me from seeing the joy and beauty of the world, my family, friends, and the gift of my life that is evident all around all the time. I made a mistake. Instead of feeling sorry for myself I should have been thankful that the damage wasn't worse, that I found a good doctor, that I'm able to travel back and forth as needed to prevent my vision from getting worse, that I have one perfect eye with perfect vision, that I have a family and wonderful friends to support me, and so many more things. I lost focus on what was important and focused instead on myself and being sad. I refused to see beauty because one eye is damaged.

I asked the doctor this month if there was any way to be able to see perfectly again. He laughed and said "Sure there is. If your left eye doesn't get any better we'll put a new lens in your glasses that blurs it our entirely, and you'll see perfectly out of your right eye and not notice the blur in the left anymore. Until then, you could wear an eye patch, or wink." Basically, I could choose to look out of the good eye and not the left. I wonder how long I've been looking out the wrong eye. Maybe I needed to have damaged vision to remind me that there is always good to be seen, you just have to choose to look at it.

In life, I believe we have the same choices. We can choose to be miserable about the way life can be, the horror of the world around us, we can choose to be depressed and sad at how everything turns out. Or we can choose to look another way. To see the beauty of a baby's two-tooth smile, to hear the happiness of a toddler's guffaws, to see blue skies and the light of the sun. If I look out the right eye, I see life the way it is, so I need to stop looking out the left one all the time.

I've learned that joy really is an attitude, not a way you feel because everything is peachy, but sometimes its the way you decide to feel despite the lemons you feel are being thrown at you. I asked, over and over and over again to have my sight restored. God answered, by reminding to look with my good eye, to choose to see the beauty that is evident everywhere, instead of focusing on the bad. He reminded me to be joyful, and to remember that I am in His hands, He is with me and He is taking care of me. Maybe if I had spent more time praising God and less time worrying and feeling sorry for myself, the past three months would have been a lot better. It wouldn't make my eye better, but it would have made how I see the world better. I read recently Psalm 149:6 and saw it in a brand new light, "May the praise of God be on their mouths and a double-edged sword in their hands." By focusing on what God has done and is doing, my attitude would have stayed positive and true to Him, and by praising I could have fought away my "woe is me attitude." From now on, I choose to look at life from the right eye, the eye that sees God in everything, and praises Him in everything.

Whatever happens to my vision, I will not lose sight again. I won't forget to play with my son, laugh with my daughter or smile with my wife. I won't forget to share with those who read this, the beauty and wonder, the blessings of living and working for my Lord. I choose to have joy.

Blt says......through damaged vision, God restored my sight.