Excerpt from David Copperfield

No, not the magician.

David and Miss Mowcher, a flirty and flamboyant cosmetician lady with dwarfism, who caters to high society.

'I am surprised,' I began, 'to see you so distressed and serious'--when she interrupted me.

'Yes it always is so!' said she. 'They are all surprised, these inconsiderate young people, fairly and full grown, to see any natural feeling in a little thing like me! They make a plaything of me, use me for their own amusement, throw me away when they are tired, and wonder when I feel more than a toy horse or wooden soldier! Yes, yes, that's the way. The old way!'

'It may be, with others,' I returned, 'but I do assure you it is not with me. Perhaps I ought not to be at all surprised to see you as you are now: I know so little of you. I said, without consideration, what I thought.'

'What can I do?' returned the little woman, standing up, and holding out her arms to show herself. 'See! What I am, my father was; and my sister is; and my brother is. I have worked for sister and brother these many years--hard, Mr. Copperfield--all day. I must live. I do no harm. If there are people so unreflecting or so cruel, as to make jest of me, what is left for me but to jest of myself, them, and everything? If I do so, for the time, whose fault is that? Mine?'

No, not Miss Mowcher's, I perceived.

'If I had shown myself a sensitive dwarf to your false friend,' pursued the little woman, shaking her head at me, with reproachful earnestness, 'How much help or goodwill do you think I should ever have had? If little Mowcher (who had no hand, young gentlemen, in the making of herself) addressed herself to him, or the like of him, because of her misfortunes, when do you suppose her small voice would have been heard! Little Mowcher would have as much need to live, if she were the bitterest and dullest of pygmies; but she couldn't do it. No. She might whistle for her bread and butter till she died of Air.'

Miss Mowcher sat down on the fender again, and took out her handkerchief, and wiped her eyes.

'Be thankful for me, if you have a kind heart, as I think you have,' she said, 'that while I know well what I am, I can be cheerful and endure it all. I am thankful for myself, at any rate, that I can find my tiny way through the world, without being beholden to any one; and in return for all that is thrown at me, in folly or vanity, as I go along, I can throw bubbles back. If I don't brood over all I want, it is the better for me, and not worse for the sake of any one. If I am a plaything for you giants, be gentle with me.'

Miss Mowcher relates her piece of intelligence to David

'I must go,' she said at last, rising as she spoke. 'It's late. You don't mistrust me?'

Meeting her sharp glance, which was as sharp as ever when she asked me, I could not on that short challenge answer no, quite frankly.

'Come!' said she, accepting the offer of my hand to help her over the fender, and looking wistfully up into my face, 'you know you wouldn't mistrust me if I was a full-sized woman!'

I felt that there was much truth in this; and I felt rather ashamed of myself.

'You are a young man,' she said, nodding. 'Take a word of advice, even from three foot nothing. Try not to associate bodily defects with mental, my good friend, except for a solid reason.'

....

'Trust me no more, but trust me no less, than you would trust a full-sized woman,' said the little creature, touching me appealingly on the wrist, 'If you ever see me again, unlike what I am now, and like what I was when you first saw me, observe what company I am in. Call to mind that I am a very helpless and defenceless little thing. Think of me at home with my brother like myself and sister like myself, when my day's work is done. Perhaps you won't, then, be very hard upon me, or surprised if I can be distressed and serious. Good night!

The Depravity Scale

https://depravityscale.org/depscale/index.php - At this site there is a survey by a panel of researchers, who wish to get a better grasp on what people feel is depraved. They suggest that it will help judges, jurors, prosecutors, etc, produce more uniform and publicly approved sentencing. The dictionary had the definition "depraved" down as corrupt or evil.

The survey was very hard, as expected. We were instructed not to look at the examples when deciding if a defined motive or affect of a crime was depraved. So of course I looked (was this the real motive behind the survey??). One category of a crime would be the perp's intent to cause massive destruction. Sometimes 2 examples right next to each other would be something like a nuclear bomb, then a highly contagious computer virus. I am 100% sure these are very different levels of evil/corruptness.

The second reason it was hard was because I have a hero complex, and could not save everyone. The second part of the survey listed crimes--with the dreaded examples (I tried not to look!)--and we had to place them in order of 1-5: least depraved to most. Sometimes the entire page contained the worst stuff, and I had to choose which was more heinous. I wanted all the murders/rapists to suffer my judgment of evil. But I had to pick! Who and what was the worst??

It's super-great that God will judge.

Last night in my Bible study I was searching Revelation. It was the part in chapter 19 when Jesus comes back. It struck me as quite a departure from a period in His life we are more familiar with. In Revelation, He is much more fierce! He is wearing a robe dipped in blood, riding a white horse. His eyes burn, and his mouth is as a sword. He will rule with an iron scepter, and His name is Faithful & True. He has many crowns on His head, and will judge with all justice. In the NT He may chastise fiercely, but doesn't punish. He wears a humbling and humiliating crown of thorns. He is known as "Rabbi", or a human prophet, or Joseph's son, or a lying, blasphemous fraud. He rules nothing and no one. He is dirty and worn from all the walking. He rides a donkey.

On earth the first time He gave to all, and lived a poor life. He gave His entire life for God's will and for all people--sinners and strangers no less! He suffered greatly and never fought back. When people told Him he was good, He said no, only God is good.

It reminded me of all the instruction we get in the Bible to take our suffering without revenge. That it is God's job, not ours, it says. It talks a lot about punishment for evil as well, either in this life or the next. We can be sure it is coming: with God's will through human authority, disease, hellfire, ad infinitum.

In this first mortal life, as in Jesus', we are not personally to make others pay for what they did to us. After we die, it is different. Our suffering is taken away, and we can be sure they are paying for what they did--(if they did not repent). Vengeance lives and is carried out in the next life. Jesus is in charge of judging. And He is Faithful & True. And very just. He will also come back to earth to avenge.

This is hard for me. I believe it's hard for anyone. Someone at some time will always be victimized. Whether criminally or not. We are so used to movies with heros fighting the bad guys. We are used to thinking self-defense is indisputably right. Who doesn't ever say "It's OK, he won't survive in jail"? How many Christians support the death penalty? How many of the disabled were made that way because of drunk drivers? Who doesn't want to castrate rapists? Who doesn't wish to kill Bin Laden given the chance? Tough, tough stuff.

This one will take time.

The Bucket List

Save someone's life

Make 1 movie of indeterminate length

Get married

Stay married

Raise kids

Change accessibility laws in at least 1 country in Europe

Watch 1 exciting Nationals event live

Create a charitable or helping organization

Teach writing

Compose a song

Write a book

Reach others for Christ

Go to the Met or the Louvre and stare for hours

Dance

Take care of my parents like they've taken care of me

Serve my husband

Always protect Kate's kids

Get at least 1 more dog of my own

Lay on top of the hood of a muscle car and stare at the sky, preferably with a friend

Speak a foreign language in a foreign country for an entire day

Swim w/o plugging my nose!

Cook something again

See certain people I love accept Jesus

Paint a picture

Find out why people molest children and stop it!

Go on a missions trip

Meet Anderson Cooper


Too lofty?

Instrument of God--or NOT!!

I ended my affair with the little pink notebook on a high note. My faithful little friend with the daisy flower cover contains:

1) contact info of a cute boy, and a very attractive yet ridiculously boring boy (as very attractive-on-the-outside men are wont to be), both of which I met in high school, neither of whom I will ever contact. 2) Contact info of my girl friends I met at Bible study years ago, who I am still contacting weekly (Ha, take that, cute boys!). 3) My maid of honor speech from Sarah's wedding from 2 years ago (which is actually a prayer and went really well, Praise God!). 4) Remants of a ripped page from the letter I wrote to my friend in the half-way house (I am grateful I can write to him with any paper and envelope now, as opposed to when he was in jail and they had uber strict guidelines). 5) Notes for my Bible study orientation so I wouldn't forget to tell the students something. 6) Notes on my first ever special needs ministry meeting. 7) Mom's knee replacement therapy notes. 8) Notes on what rooms have special needs kids at church (complete with names and diagrams). 9) Thoughts on the girls at May Blades Jennifer and I were judging for the artistry award (Congrats Amanda!). 10) And, all throughout, (and most important) my unofficial independent bible study notes.

I am not looking forward to reviewing all the lessons learned yet FORGOTTEN from my independent bible study.

As stated previously, the last lesson was especially good. In Revelation the man goes to bow before the angel, who is relating to him the future justice done to evil men. Of course the angel freaks out and cries: "Do not do it! I am a fellow servant with you and for you, and with the brothers who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God!" (19:10). Utilizing the 4 P's: Pore & Paraphrase, Pull-out, and Pose, that I learned from the aforementioned official co-dependent bible study, I started thinking of how I could be a faithful servant and instrument of God like the angel. And quickly saw my rather large sin.

That day I ran into a family acquaintance. I pretended to be more busy than I was, and did not fully engage in our conversation, only answering minimally about my therapy and physical progress. I did not like looking at this woman, because she never wore a bra.

It occurred to me even as I was avoiding her that she was a captive audience and I could easily share my faith as it came about in my trials, but did I? No. All because I could see boobies.

I am sure many Christians have gladly shared their faith with literal naked people in different cultures. All I could think of was "Doesn't she know her shirt is tight? Doesn't she know that's gross?" Well...didn't I know my attitude was gross?!!! The Lord wants all of us to come as we are!

Others feeling awkward at the physical differences in us is a huge deal. How shallow, I would think. How stupid. How unnecessary. How frustrating. How annoying. How scaredy-cat-like. How unrealistic.

I sometimes wish I could punch myself in the face. I am so glad I can confess my sins to the Lord, be forgiven, and make an effort to turn away. Yes true repentance is awesome. And we get it for free! Still, a good self-imposed punch in the face seems in order for this one.

(Don't you like how this post was going one way, then it suddenly veered to the left?)

Happy Canada Day.

Emptiness vs Edification & Eternity

So the season finales are over. As a Christian, and a busy person, its time to ask if that TV show was worth it. Did I really need to give that 12-24 hours of my attention this year? Did it do anything for eternity? Anything for the world? Anything for my good? Maybe it was a wash. Maybe my brain needed a break to come back stronger. Now the flipside: did it do me or my character any bad?

Not that this is my attitude for everything. I still like junk food and lazy days and vacations. But I am getting better. I am growing up. I want to lay in bed that night, thinking of what I accomplished that day.

A few years back I wanted to be a screenwriter. I still may be some day, but...I'm not passionate enough to pursue it now. It seems an empty life, full of myself and not God or others, unless I did Christian movies. But movies take a while to create. I am an impatient little bugger. I want results now!

My new role is perfect. The ladies at church asked me to be the Special Needs coordinator for the children's ministries at church. Perhaps they asked me partly because of my disability. But nearly all the children are affected mentally, and much younger than I ever was with a disability. Still...I know how to problem-solve, and how to persevere in the midst of a condition that just refuses to cooperate with the ideal. I love it. And I love that I was made for it with my own struggles.

I feel full. The kids and parents will see God's love through us, and some will be impacted for eternity. I will learn...billions of things. This I can look back on and feel my life wasn't wasted.

Colds

Like everyone else, I got a cold this winter and spring. That naggy, hurting feeling down the back of your nose and throat; where you have to swallow to be rid of it, but swallowing is painful; can be compared to another experience. Nose tubes.

Nosestubes are probably the worst detail I suffered in the hospital besides the traech. Persistent ickiness and rawness, with a feeling of little spikes in the canal between my nose and throat. Really, no foreign object is to be there, protests the body.

I turn my head when I see patients on tv with them. I couldn’t watch that part in A Beautiful Mind, and I was the only who knew what was going to happen when Tony Stark woke up with one. I told my compatriots not to look, but they didn’t process my warning fast enough.

Writing this, I realize colds aren’t even bad enough to be comparable.

Never mind…

The Stare-by Kevin Connolly

1 year ago I was asked by a little boy in Christchurch, New Zealand if I had been eaten by a shark.   2 months ago I was asked by an elderly woman in Sighisoara, Romania if I had lost my legs in a car accident.   6 weeks ago I was asked by a bar patron in Helena, Montana if I still wore my dog tags from Iraq.   Everyone tries to create a story in their heads to explain the things that baffle them. For the same reason we want to know how a magic trick works, or how mystery novel ends, we want to know how someone different, strange, or disfigured came to be as they are. Everyone does it. It's natural. It's curiosity.   But before any of us can ponder or speculate - we react. We stare. Whether it is a glance or a neck twisting ogle, we look at that which does not seem to fit in our day to day lives. It is that one instant of unabashed curiosity - more reflex than conscious action - that makes us who we are and has been one of my goals to capture over the past year.   It is after this instant that we try to hazard a guess as to why such an anomalous person exists. Was it disease? Was it a birth defect? Was it a landmine? These narratives all come from the context in which we live our lives. Illness, drugs, calamity, war - all of these might become potential stories depending upon what we are exposed to in connection with disability.   In each photograph the subjects share a commonality, but what does their context say? Looking at each face, I saw humanity. Rolling through their streets, I found the unique cultures and customs that created an individual. -Kevin Connolly X Games Mono Skier and World Travelor http://www.therollingexhibition.com/statement.php

Head Trip Perceptions

It's a bit of a head trip being disabled. The looks and perceptions issue most face is dwarfed by a new dimension. One no one has quite figured it out, nor will they ever, I think it's safe to say.
 
I was recently disembarking off a cruise in a large crowd. We were stuffed in the hallways and lobby like sardines, with barely an inch on any side of our bodies. My feet rests kept hitting the backs of people's feet and their luggage. "Sorry," I'd squeak, fully aware of how annoying that sensation was. They'd turn, a cranky, I'm-already-frustrated-and-now-will-tear-your-head-off look on their face. Then, as they saw me, their expression would change. "No," they say in a soft voice with sad eyes and a smile, "It's OK." Suddenly all their annoyance was washed away and they'd feel bad for me instead.
 
I am 24, slim, blonde, tall (not that it matters right this minute), and blue-eyed. If  I wasn't in a wheelchair I'd run the risk of being an airhead or a slut. But for now, I am perceived as sweet, inspirational, and at the same time, someone to be pitied. Perhaps a dumb blonde also, but people don't make that mistake for very long.
 
Sweet, I like. I mean I'm a believer, so I try to be. But I know it is based on how I look, because people thought that when I didn't follow Jesus and was ugly on the inside. Mothers of teen boys who hung out with me or worked with me on a school project were thrilled. Maybe they thought my disability and looking the way I did, I was innately good for some reason, and would rub off on their sons. I sometimes would laugh at their naivete, but quickly figured out the joke was on me. People thinking the best of you when you don't deserve it never means they are the sad one. Now it is different.
 
Inspirational, well, it's hard to complain about that one. I used to, because it meant I was going through tough times, but that's not any one's fault. And I can't help but be inspired by others going through tough times and not falling apart. It's in our culture to feel that way. 

Pitied--no one wants that. It is especially misplaced on me, because I think I am the happiest single person I know. Pity serves a function though. Pity causes other people to care. It makes people want to help make life manageable for us. It gave us the ADA. It gives me help from strangers when organizations aren't following the ADA. It keeps me from hearing a tirade in a sardine can of a lobby, when I have to worry about 10 extra things that day about flying home that an able-bodied person doesn't need to worry about. 

People either pity us, or don't think too hard about us and what we go through on a daily basis. But really the only reason people should pity us is if they didn't think of us. Because people thought of my hardship, there are ramps and social security money and discrimination laws, etc. As a result, there is less hardship. Without these there would be justifiable pity, because my life would be pitiful. But without pity, the cutting-down-on-my-hardship laws would not exist. All social justice demands some pity to achieve the goals, I think. Where would we be in a world without pity?

See what I mean about the head trip?

The best thing for me to do is to not think about it. Be me, let nothing define me, yada yada.  But I think it's good to acknowledge the stereotypes are out there. And furthermore, know they aren't all bad.