A Place For Frailty

I've been inspired to start blogging. Writing has always been one of my favorite pastimes, but I don't bother very often anymore since my eyes have grown dim. I'm sure the environmentalists would be appalled at the amount of paper I use to write a paragraph that would only take up half a page typed out. Not too long ago, I had my husband open up a file and let me type a little just to make sure that I still remembered how to type. I was relieved to note that I was still a slow but capable typist despite my inability to view what my fingers were producing. For anyone who is wondering why this would be a problem with all the technology for the vision impaired let me reassure you that I am well aware of my resources, but relearning how to use the computer is a little overwhelming and the voice overs can get annoying... also trying to figure out how to teach my children to read and write the things I could not see and learning how to tell whether the meat I was cooking for dinner was fully cooked took top priority.

So here I am, this is my first time writing anything that someone other than my family had to look at in almost two years. I am a visually impaired (that's legally blind but not completely blind) homeschool mother of five children. I used to be afraid to publicly share all that information. But now that I've gotten the hang of things, my husband also works at home so I've got some back up if any well meaning busy body becomes concerned that my children have no competent adult supervision. On that note, I've been longing to fully express my gratitude towards everyone who has provided me a safe place to be frail.

First of all I must say that my home is my haven. My husband is my best friend, my lover, my protector, my provider, my discipler. When answering a questionnaire about the results I would like to see after a cataract surgery, I laughed as the doctor's administrative assistant asked "Would you like to remain independent". After my chuckle I replied "Oh, I'm not independent at all." For some women this is worthy of shock and horror, but this was often my greatest comfort.

Secondly my church family. The church I attend is a reformed credo-baptist family integrated church. If you want to understand better what all that means, visit the church site at www.gracefamilybaptist.net. Here, I will simply explain how it is a safe place for all those who are weak and heavy laden. The answer is simply because they shepherd the flock towards Jesus. Repentance and grace resound in my ears. Never am I anything but a woman who needs these things, repentance and grace. I am not an oppressed woman, or a burden on my home and family. I am a woman who needs to be obedient to the Lord in my calling as a wife and mother. Always I have a cloud of witnesses around me to encourage me and spur me on towards love and good deeds. This is a church. This is not a social networking group. It is a church and I will say to every believer, you need a true church that declares the word of God and shepherds the flock. Because whether or not you have come to realize it, you are frail also. There are wolves among us who might try to lure us from the cross. Satan tempts us all with despair and the world will tell you that obedience to the God of the Bible is too heavy a burden. Your body may be strong and your eyes may be keen, but I promise you, dear saints, you are weak.

Do you have what I have? Does the sound of repentance and grace resound in your ears? Our Lord is an invisible God but he does not leave us to imagine his invisible arms He has established our homes and our churches so we my understand that when we are broken he is the Great Shepherd.