Blind is beautiful!

After a very stressful month at work and a dad who has Alzheimer's, I decided to take 2 days off to hopefully recharge my batteries.

For one of the days I scheduled an extended massage. These are my guilty pleasures in life. I don't get them often, but love when I can indulge for an hour at the hands of someone who's job it is to make me feel good.

So my appointment is booked with Mike. I've had a male masseuse before, so no biggie. Usually. But part of my last month's stresses included having a very ugly month. I mean the kind where I feel so ugly that I'm going to make babies cry if I go in public.

So my male masseuse anxiety starts to set in. I'm convinced that while I'm lying there with my eyes closed that Fabio and his magic hands will be looking at every inch of my body trying to keep his egg white tofu omelet down from breakfast.

In anticipation of the “how perfect is your body” test I'm about to take in the name of relaxation, I prepare. I spend extra time applying the “ I'm not wearing any make-up” make-up.

I add bronzer all across my chest since I can't make it to the Caribbean for a true sun kissed look.

I spend far too much time analyzing my underwear. It's a fine line between not looking like a granny and wearing sexy underwear 20 years and 30lbs past when you shouldn't.

I arrive at my spa and I am lead back to the room. Now comes the time for my man goddess to enter. And he does.

HE.  IS.  BLIND…… (I'll leave that there for a moment to soak in)

Blind like with a guidance cane blind. I don't even know what to think. I just laugh hysterically… on the inside.

Sometimes God shows us things in a very subtle way. And sometimes it is laid before us in a way that we would trip over it before missing it.

All of that time and wasted brain cells that I spent worrying, fretting about my imperfections, my freckles, my pale skin and crows feet.

Not only was Mike totally oblivious to my insecurities, and unable to see the things that were such a big deal to me an hour before, he asked if he could add my dad to his prayer list.

He told me about how, after he and his wife were unable to have children, they started fostering children. You could hear the pride in his voice. You could feel the satisfaction he had in his life.

And I, with my great health, sight, all of my limbs, and my own child, thought the only the thing that someone else cared about was my appearance.

It made me wonder, why is it that Mike is the one who is blind but I'm the one who can't see so many things?

I did leave there thanking God for so many of my imperfections and unfairness that had been given to me.

Truly, Mike makes his living by touch. His family sacrifices by driving him an hour to and from work, since he can't.

I would recommend him to anyone looking for a good massage. I believe he said he works almost everyday. Any business helps his family and for his wife to stay home with their foster children.

There are blessings all around us. We just need to pray for the vision to see them, even if they come from the blind.

Until next time~ safe picking

Tammy

A wake-up call before going to sleep

                            
I have written in the past about how cancer can be a blessing, I know that sounds crazy, but I know the way it changed my relationship with my brother and I saw it again this week.

I have a very close friend who's father was diagnosed back in the summer with colon cancer. My friend "Annie", is a very strong and stoic person. She, and her dad, handled this ordinarily earth shattering news, like everything else. They put on their game face and tackled it with the force of  a category 4 hurricane. Many times over the years, Annie has talked about how she got her "stubbornness" from her dad.                                              

When she text me the day before Thanksgiving very early in the morning and said he was bleeding on his brain, was on a ventilator and they would be removing him, I was stunned. Going through those moments with her, I saw such raw emotions. She was a broken person that I didn't know.

Days go by and the funeral passes. When I think she may be ready to talk, I call her. I could tell within the first few minutes of that call that my sweet friend Annie was changed. I saw her most genuine soul and heard love from her voice that I had never experienced from her before.

Annie is the girl who always has it together, the perfect family, 1 boy and 1 girl, white picket fence, yada yada yada. But she was different. I could tell that she would never be the same. Her appreciation and value of life instead of things would be altered forever.

                           

She told me about the service and the preacher who spoke about her dad. I could hear the smile on her face. She admitted that her dad had never been what we southerners call a religious person, but this preacher told about being with her father on their back deck when he asked Jesus into his heart.  I think until that moment, they were not certain about this destiny. What a gift, far more valuable that diamonds or gold, that he gave them by sharing this.

In hearing her tell me about how she had seen a twinkle in her dad's eye in the last few weeks was just heart warming. She said she thought the cancer and chemo was making him a softer person but she now knows it was Jesus filling his heart that brought on this tenderness in her otherwise large, loud and stoic father.

                                               

That's when it hit me again, that cancer had been a blessing. In the time he had left it somehow brought about his salvation and these sweet memories that Annie will carry with her now like a warm fuzzy blanket. Cancer was a wake-up call for him before his earthly body went to sleep, but it also has brought out a tender side to Annie that I do not see going away.

God is in control of everything that happens, even situations involving cancer. Open your heart to His love, open your eyes to see His blessing and know that He is the I AM! 

I love you Annie and pray for peace for your entire family in the coming years of "first" you will go through.

Until next time- Safe Picking
Tammy

I love this poem that was written for my family when my first sister passed away;

I know not what the future holds
It may bring joy or sorrow
But the The One who kept me yesterday
Will hold my hand tomorrow.