This morning we had about sixty people at our macular degeneration support
group meeting.  Even the gabby worker didn't bug me because things were
going well.  I worked on a little transcription in Duxbury, waited for my
nurse to dress my wound, and engulfed some doughnut holes because my insulin
decided to relase full force this morning and I had a sugar low.  I felt
honored because some of the group members were actually asking about me.
How special!  After the question and answer session, several spoke to me.
Finally I was doing what God told me to do, I thought.  Serving others.  And
some of them actually seemed to appreciate it.  Lonnie came then and we
headed for the meeting to celebrate National Mental Retardation and
Developmental Disability week.  I spoke before two groups of adults.  Some
were listening attentively while others were making fun of me.  Another was
deaf and kept clapping his hands.  A lady pinched my hostess several times
and she had to have somebody make her go away.  One man barked like a dog
with infuratingly loud barks.  "Dear God," I thought.  "Is this what it's
like not to be able to think?"  Then I wondered.  Is it just because they
are different?  Was I feeling a little afraid of them?  Well, yes, as a
matter of fact, I was.  I remembered many years ago serving with a church
group and going to a nursing home where many mentally retarded adults lived.
One lady named Janet got me good.  Her teeth sunk in to my flesh through my
sweat shirt, jeans, and coat.  She held on for dear life!  I was peralyzed
with fear!  I could only say in a normal voice, "Would somebody please show
Janet how to let go of me?"  What seemed like eternity was probably only
about thirty seconds in time because dutifully somebody came and restrained
dear Janet.  At other times I can recall working with mentally challenged
adults and loving my work.  But when the man began barking like a dog today
in puffs of auditory suffocation, I became violently sick to my stomach and
wondered if this were what the demon-possessed people were like in the
Bible.  And my mind went places.  I traveled in my mind to war-torn Iraq and
Afghanistan.  I thought about the guy in Columbus who lay on the walk with
no arms begging for food.  And then I wondered about the wealthy poverty
experienced in this country when we have houses to live in but no way to
live out the American dream unless we come from Opportunity or make
Opportunity our prize!  And I thought, "What have I done with my life?  Have
I really helped people, or is this all for vain glory?"  And then I wondered
about tomorrow.  Will there be profoundly disabled people among us?  Always,
till eternity.  But it broke my heart.  My mind, people say, doesn't really
trip the intelligence trigger, but I have one.  I can travel places in my
mind to take away the pain of being alone or missing a friend or loved one.
Where do the Janets and the Barking Dog men go in their minds?  How does the
pinchy lady say I love you?

Perhaps you'll think this a bore, but my mind is heavy today and I just
needed to talk.  To whom can I go when my thoughts run with me?  OH, yes, I
can go to God.  But I wrote my thoughts today.  I need God putting on Skin.
I need you today, my friend, more than you'll ever know.  Please remember I
love you, and I want Opportunity to be your best friend next to God Himself.
I will hold you when things are too tough.  Can you hold me now?

Sorry for rambling,

April
Loyalty is an asset of the heart.