I realized the other much to my dismay that I had to write this post. Monday, the nurse in the doctor's office pleaded with me to use my walking cane as much I hate it. She said, "I'd rather you use it than fall." She said: "I know it's not sexy to use it." It is not, but having bloodied hands and knees isn't either, I later thought. The kicker came yesterday when my mom pleaded with me to read that day devotional in the Journey magazine. It spoke of a girl who didn't use her cane, and almost missed her stop because the driver didn't announce her stop. Her teacher pleaded with her to take her cane the next time, she did, and with a much different result. Upon seeing the white cane, the driver, made a point to help her.
I am learning to cross intersections among other things, and like this girl, I hate to use my cane. The cane for me is associated with weakness and not very attractive.
This last portion has had me thinking. "I forced myself to trade the assumption that people saw me as helpless for the reality that I was simply letting them see the truth." This statement has hit me like a ton of bricks. I have felt that as far as I have come, I would resign myself to using a cane. It would be a sign of backward progress. Not many people can tell that I have Cerebral Palsy or that I have severe visual impairment. As long as that was the case, I could perpetuate the notion that I was "normal". Normal is what I have dreamed of for so long. I have to accept that "normal" is not in the cards for me. Don't even get me started on whether I would think that the opposite sex would find me attractive with a cane. That's another story for another day. If the truth sets you free, the truth is what you shall receive.
This has been one post that has been hard to write. Truth is hard, but necessary.
When God calls, I must respond.
Pushing the publish button will be difficult, but here we go, readers!