Thursday, July 10, 2014

He made me this way on purpose

My ears are sensitive to loud noises. When I was little I covered my ears when the vacuum was used, when a toilet flushed too loud, and obviously during fireworks or motorcycles that were too close. When I was in 9th grade at a pep rally (I loathed those things), there was a moment when two people on either side of me screamed at the top of their lungs and I blacked out. I was still standing and didn't pass out, but everything went completely black. I booked it out of the gym and sat on the bench in the lobby. I've felt that start to come on again when I'm near loud speakers at concerts and have to move. I hear the phone ringing at work when it's behind the closed door when others don't.

My skin is sensitive. If I use normal lotion, it gives me a rash. Not cool. So I have to use St. Ives, and hardly anything else. I sunburn quickly and it doesn't ever turn brown. When my hands get dry, they crack and hurt and look awful. And most importantly, I'm highly allergic to all metal. I can't wear belts, jewelry, and watches. I can't sit in metal chairs with shorts on, and I can't lean my arms on a metal table. I can't hold on to metal chains on a swing, metal bars on a train or bus, and many other random things. It's only if it touches my skin for 20 minutes or more, so I'm ok with silverware and doorknobs.

My eyes aren't necessarily sensitive, but I'm blind as you can be without contacts or glasses. For those of you who know the numbers, I'm -6.00 in contacts. Basically to read see or read anything it has to literally be four inches from my face.

My nose is sensitive. I smell everything. And I also hate a lot of smells. At work I swear half of my day is spent breathing through my mouth. I can't stand the way the following things at work smell: ice coffee, hazelnut, toffee nut, certain coffees, the bathrooms, some of the cleaners, mocha when it's being washed or being made, matcha powder, bananas, skinny mocha, cinnamon dolce, the trash, the grease trap, the spinach feta wrap, the vacuum.... I'm not just being picky, I can't stand those smells. It's like intensified and overwhelming nastiness.

My tongue was pretty much made wrong, lol, because although I try a lot of different foods and drinks, I don't like a lot of things. I'm a "picky eater" but not because I want to be. I just taste things and am like, "Gross." In a way, it's good because I don't eat everything I see.

Sometimes I've thought, "God? Really? Why are all my senses heightened and sensitive? Why are things too loud, stink, hurt, taste bad, etc. that other people are totally ok with?"

And then there's my heart. My heart is sensitive. I don't cry a ton or feel depressed all the time, but I empathize without meaning to, and feel a lot. One time I went to a place where we made and served dinner to homeless people in Atlanta, and had a worship service for them, and on the drive home everybody I went with was talking and laughing and getting ready to eat at IHOP and I sat there crying. I said how I felt silly crying and feeling so awful for them, but my friend said, "No, it's ok. It shows how your heart is so caring." When I'm in Kenya all I want to do is give them everything I have. When someone hurts me, it stays with me for a long time. When someone is happy and excited, I'm pumped right along with them. I remember someone's favorite food for years and bring it to them way later, I'm hugely aware when someone is in a bad mood or having a bad day, I notice the people who are standing alone in a room full of people, and I want to help people when I can in whatever they're doing in life.

Some days, same thing as earlier, I think, "God... I don't want to hurt so much. I don't want to feel so burdened with the thought of my friend who doesn't know You, feel the sting of the words even a week later from coworkers when they're being mean, or miss people so deeply when I can't be around them." But I also have a deep love in my heart, a deep longing to serve, give, encourage, and be there for people, that I know only comes from God. Sometimes it's both the good and the bad emotions that cause me to act. Sometimes I want to hit an off button on my emotions, especially on the days when they swing like pendulums and wreak havoc on my logical thoughts, and the truths that I know suddenly seem a little fuzzy. But I know that God made me the way I am on purpose. He doesn't see me as over-emotional, He sees me as a woman who feels deeply and tries to use those emotions to bring glory to God. I get really excited about rainbows every time I see them, and beautiful sunsets leave me speechless. God made those things beautiful, just like He made us beautiful!



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