Fumbling through discernment

When I first got my hearing aids, I was completely overwhlemed at just how quickly wearing them would overstimulate my mind. Time and again over the first few weeks of wearing them, I simply had to reach up and shut them off; I coudn’t take it. It was too much mental input. My mind just was not used to having to sort through and understand that much sound. I used to have normal hearing, and I had assumed that the hearing aids would effortlessly make everything sound like it used to. What I didn’t realize is that there’s two layers to hearing; there’s the sound waves themselves, the eardrum vibrating, which the hearing aids can help with, but there’s also the mental processing of the sound. For those first couple of weeks I was like a baby just learning to use her own senses again. Every few minutes I’d pipe up and ask my kids, my husband, or whoever else happened to be around “What’s that sound?” The vibrations were making it to me, and I was certainly aware that a sound was being made, but I just didn’t know what it was. Whether it was the fridge, a truck passing by on the street, or the hard drive of my laptop, I had to turn to someone to explain to me what the input I was receiving meant.

If only I could do that now.

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An anchor to a world away

The blog entry that I was typing on my pocket pc in the car on the way home:

This past week has been a trip—in both the figurative and literal senses.  We took off for a somewhat impromptu visit to Utah, ostensibly to hang out with friends, and ended up stumbling onto what might just turn out to be a whole new path in life.  I still can’t quite wrap my head around it all.  Forgive me, but it wouldn’t be prudent to run through the specifics at this point.  I can say, though, that it has strengthened my testimony–profoundly.  I even joked to Michelle that the Lord’s hand has been so evident in it all that He was kind of taking an element of faith out of it for us. What is faith, but the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen? What does it become where there is so little left unseen? I suppose in a situation like this, faith comes in the attribution of the readily-visible seemingly charmed events to their proper Source.

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