Editing for me was never a bad word. However, because of my dyslexia it was beyond my abilities. For those of you who might think I'm blowing smoke, I'll sight the short discussion Mr. Raboy had with me after my English 101, Creative Writing class ended, and I heard the "The Raboy Imperative," from this esteemed prof who'd taught me to as he put it, "...include all the elements of a story in succession such as the cow, pail, stool, milk bucket....and everything that led up to drinking the milk!" Now my prof was trying to instill in me, my need to spell and punctuate accurately. Our verbal exchange, I call it that because we were sort of sparing, at least I was, was sort of hard on the ear. I remember him saying, "You want to be a psychologist." Then trying to suppress a laugh, he continued, "You can't even spell the word."
I had no defense, so said nothing. Time stopped. I could almost hear the seconds tick by. The tension was palatable. Finally, my friend, Ina who was standing next to me, and was a great technician of all things grammatical cleared her throat. Happy to shift our focus we both, at least in my mind's eye, turned towards her, as she said, in her quiet way, "I'll be running Paula's office, so don't worry about all of that." This was news to me especially since I was certain, Ina's husband, a doctor himself, would have loved her to work for him since that's what she'd been doing before they had children.
I was so grateful that she rescued me from this onslaught of 'ought' that it never occurred to me to find out if this issue had a medical name or if there was anything I could do to overcome. Here I was learning how to help people do exactly that. Yet, so used to the problem was I that it had become a 'Non-Issue' for me, sort of like being born a lefty, which I was, and then taught to do everything with my right hand, which the school system did so well that I'm profoundly right handed.
This was my life, and as surly as Johnny Appleseed planted those apples, I believed I was to blame for this issue. Ah! The Blame Game! Really? I did this to myself for about a nanosecond. Then I remember Frank Sinatra singing "High Hopes," and with a nod to the leader of 'The Rat Pack,' I decided to not worry but hope! Hope is a good thing because without it 'the people perish.' Yet hoping to become what I could not was a potential stumbling block. Except....get this! God doesn't allow things to happen just because! He allows things to happen so we can chose! It's in the choosing that we become. And it is through changing, refining, or narrowing our choices that we know more about our self and if we're walking with God, more about Him!
God gifted us free will. It is in this freedom that we reveal our-self to our self. Self-knowledge can be a powerful, heady experience...at least that's what I've been told. I used to believe as Alfred Adler did that each of us has some flaw that we're trying to overcome. Adler labeled this "The Inferiority Complex." Therapists who use this paradigm site such notables as a 26 year old deaf Beethoven to drive home this point. However, believing in Messiah, this is what I know now, there is another way to look at obstacles. We read in the Apostle Paul's second letter to the Corinthians 12:7, "Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh..."
I believe that each of us has at least one thorn in our flesh that 'none should boast but all would give glory to God.'
Having made peace with the 'thorn in my flesh' this dyslexia had no hold upon me. I was free! Yet? But? Have you ever noticed that God always wants to impart more? I have! Sometimes this 'more' is revealed to us quickly. Then again, we may need to travel that long and winding road before we are ready to receive the 'more' God has in store for us. I say, "The more in store," because Scripture says, in 1 Cor. 2:9, "...no eye has seen...no ear has heard...no human mind has conceived' the things that God has prepared for those who love him."