Musings

Help the Weak. Be Patient with Everyone.

Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

Two solid weeks of sick do not make for a blog that stays current.

The first week I was on vacation, and the second week I went to work feeling like I hardly had two brain cells to rub together, wanting nothing more than to go home and crawl back into bed. Honestly, I don’t know how I got my work done at all. So yeah, everything else flew out the window.

Now that my brain is actively working again, I’m thinking about the spiritually weak, those who are so sick with worry that they can hardly function, whose lives seem to be in such a tailspin that they feel they hardly have two brain cells to rub together, and the ones who are so in need that they can’t even think to ask for help. 1 Thessalonians 5:14 tells us, “We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone.”

My sister was that help while we were on vacation together. What should have been at least a decent visit with her son was severely damaged by what we at first thought were only allergies (made unimaginably worse by the two flights it took to get to Las Vegas from Houston) and the fact that I could only go and do for so long before collapsing. There was no doing all the fun stuff that we had been looking into. Nonetheless, she showed that patience Paul talks about here. She was a nurturer and encourager. She was everything I needed her to be. Likewise, the people I work with were incredibly encouraging and patient with me last week as I crept through the days feeling mostly like a failure. I am surrounded by wonderful people.

So… What about me? Am I one of those wonderful people? Am I like my sister, giving encouragement, nurturing, and helping those who are weak? Am I like my co-workers, who patiently put up with my constant coughing, nose blowing, and failure to accomplish great things? I would like to think so, but I’m stepping back right now and doing some serious assessing of the person I look at in the mirror.

I want to like her. I want to respect her. I want to know that she reaches out in honesty and sincerity at all times. I want to know that her heart genuinely loves people and she doesn’t allow impatience to color her actions, or busyness to keep her from reaching out to the fainthearted and weak. Shoot, I want to know she’s so sensitive to what’s going on around her that she notices!

It’s amazing what being sick can teach you.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

You are the Tabernacle

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Image from searchisaiah.org

Did you know that the Tabernacle is a type and shadow of you? Well, of the born again Christian anyway. It sounds crazy, I know, but stick with me.

First, on the off chance that you don’t know about the Tabernacle, it was built by Moses, at God’s command, so that there would be a place for God to come down and meet with His people. Its purpose, or one of its purposes, was to bring God closer to man and man closer to God. That’s putting it extremely simplistically; it’s a topic that is well worth deep study.

Now, back to us…to you. I was recently reminded that when you look inside the human body you see something distinct. There are oxygenated blood vessels that are red, unoxygenated blood vessels that are blue, and vessels carrying mixed blood that are purple; these help make up the fabric of the human body. Inside the Tabernacle, you find fabric woven of red, blue, and purple cords.

Covering the outside of the Tabernacle, you have skin (animal skins, of course). Ditto the human body. Another fascinating parallel.

Now look at John 1. John is talking about God, The Word, who is Jesus, and how Jesus became flesh, or human. In the Old Testament, God came down and settled on the Tabernacle. Here we see that God has come down to dwell with us in the Tabernacle that is Jesus Christ.

Move on to John 2:19 and you find, “‘All right,’ Jesus replied, ‘Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.'” Then, in verse 21, “But when Jesus said ‘this temple,’ he meant his own body.” The temple of that day was, of course, the modern version of Moses’ tabernacle.

Which brings us to 1 Corinthians 6:19: “Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself,.”

Jesus’ body was the temple of the Holy Spirit. Christian, your body is also the temple of the Holy Spirit. God created this temple for many purposes, but one stands out: To bring God closer to man and man closer to God.

Tomorrow is Resurrection Sunday. Let’s not take lightly the magnitude of what Jesus did for us, what we gained in His resurrection, or the purposes God has set for us to fulfill today.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Aphantasia Revelations

Tammy M Cardwell1 Comment

If you’ve not already read it, you may want to pop over to I Can’t Imagine, which is the post I made the day I discovered that I have aphantasia. Finally understanding why I didn’t recognize my own grandchild as a baby was… wow.

The past few days have been filled with revelations!

For those who don’t know, people with aphantasia have little to no ability to visualize. You know how, when you’re told to close your eyes and imagine you’re at the beach, you can see it and describe it? Yeah, I can’t. I got nothin’. I’ve always thought the “close your eyes and imagine” thing was figurative; learning that it’s literally possible for most of the world was a serious shock.

Mind you, I’m not upset that I’m mentally blind. I mean, I’ve never known life any other way. I’ve actually been having some of the most fascinating conversations in recent days, both with those who learned from my experience that they have it too, and with others who had no idea that “we” existed! Those of you who see a movie when you read a book? Mind blowing! And I’ve had more than one of “you” ask how I can possibly enjoy reading when I can’t see a movie of what I read. Believe me, I love to read!

The biggest thing is realizing that I’m not unobservant or, depending on context, downright stupid. Ask me to describe a person I was just talking to and, unless I’ve taken out my mental notebook and recorded details, I’ll not be likely to tell you much more than whether they’re male or female, adult or child…and maybe height based on how I tilted my head to look at them. Yes, I can literally turn away and lose them, mentally speaking. Friends who get haircuts or color your hair? I’m sorry if I offend you by not noticing, but the odds are really good that I’ll not even know you’ve done it, because although I know you when I see you I can’t remember the details of what you look like when you’re not there.

And I mean that literally. I tried to describe my husband earlier today. I didn’t get very far.

It’s just that visual thing! I can’t remember how many times I’ve had someone get disgusted when they would tell me to look for a certain person’s car. Nope. If I knew the make, model, and color that might help me…maybe, but I couldn’t even find my own sister’s car in a crowded parking lot if I didn’t have certain cues keyed into my memory. I learned long ago that when I get a new car I have to put on a bumper sticker and hang something from the rearview mirror before I ever venture into a parking lot. No. Not kidding.

This morning, I shared my discoveries with two of my co-workers. Later on in our conversation, once we’d changed topics, I almost busted out laughing. I was about to say, “I can’t imagine…” and abruptly realized that I literally can’t imagine what I was going to refer to. I’m still getting used to the idea that those words aren’t just a figure of speech for most people.

Learning that I’m not stupid has been such a blessing! Today was a red letter day where this is concerned. Graphic design, anything beyond extremely basic stuff, has always been out of my reach. I cannot express how frustrated I and people I’ve answered to have been with my inability to grasp and implement design concepts. Today it dawned on me; it’s because I literally can’t see it!

If you give me a picture and ask me to copy it, I can probably do so as long as the techniques required are things I’ve mastered. This is why I was able to do photorealistic pencil portraits back when that was my thing. I could sit there and look back and forth between the original and my drawing and do ok. What I could not do, at all, was create something from memory or imagination. You have to have visual memory and imagination to do that.

So where graphic design is concerned, I have no memory. I can “study” examples, but I can’t hold them in my head. Again, I have to have something in front of me and, going back and forth, I will possibly be able to recreate it in a graphics program. Take that example away and I’m done.

Frustrating? Absolutely, but at least now I understand! I. Am. Not. Stupid.

I’m almost in tears thinking about all the times I was driven to tears while trying to create graphics. Knowing the truth is so freeing!

So, if you have suddenly realized you have aphantasia on whatever level (There’s a scale, with some people having more mental vision than I do.), consider the blessings that come from knowing. Think about things that have made you feel “less than,” and give yourself permission to sigh in relief. You are not an idiot. You are not flawed. No one can blame a blind person for being blind.

And if you’re dealing with someone who is clearly intelligent, but has issues that are related to visual things, maybe you should ask some questions. Because, let me tell you, until a few days ago I literally had no idea – zero – that normal people see anything other than black when they close their eyes.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

For more information on this fascinating condition, you may want to check out aphantasia.com. You can even become a member for $7 a month or $70 a year and network with others who deal with this interesting issue.

I Can’t Imagine

Tammy M Cardwell4 Comments

My mind is officially blown.

A year or so ago, I learned that some people can actually see pictures when they “close their eyes and imagine.” It really took me aback; when I “imagine,” I’m pretending to create pictures, but not really seeing them. I thought the whole concept was seriously cool, but didn’t think too much about it until this week when I was sick and awake in the middle of the night. I posted two questions on Facebook because I was wondering if there were any link between having a 24/7 monologue running in your head (Something I learned a while back that not everyone has) and actually seeing pictures when you close your eyes and imagine.

I was shocked to learn, in my tiny science experiment, that pretty much everyone had constant brain chatter, but I was the only one who couldn’t see pictures. That realization sent me to our old friend, Mr. Google.

It turns out I have aphantasia. It’s a condition that, according to the one article I’ve read, apparently only affects 1-3% of the population, and it means you have a limited (or nonexistent) ability to visualize or imagine in the literal sense. Of course, I only recently realized that there IS a literal sense because I’ve dealt with it my whole life. While I may on rare occasions be hit in the face with a flash of memory, I can’t consciously create or pull up anything.

Maybe I should have waited to blog about this when I’ve done more research, or at least had time to think about it, but… oh my word. This explains so much!

I remember when my grandson was a tiny baby. Some friends were holding him and I asked who they had. They were appalled. “He’s your grandson!” The fact that I didn’t recognize him blew them completely away and utterly humiliated me.

But now I get it. They recognized him because, having seen him recently, they carried pictures in their minds that matched him when he showed up. I didn’t have that. I could make notes in my brain, listing details like dimples or whatever, but he was so young that he was literally changing every day and my mental notes couldn’t keep up.

Ok, I’m almost in tears here.

This explains so many things. Pictures are important to me, because I want to remember what people and places looked like. If I have extensive mental notes, I can recreate those pictures mentally, in a sense…but I can’t really see them like most of you can. I can also be talking to someone and, when asked five minutes later what they looked like, I can’t tell you unless I had consciously pulled out my mental notebook and recorded the “picture.” I can usually tell you what we talked about, though, because my mental audio recorder works great.

There is so much to unpack here. It’s not every day you learn something so radical about yourself. And if I don’t stop right now this is going to turn into a legit ramble.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Up next?
Aphantasia Revelations

Quiet Time

Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

I’ve never cared for the phrase “quiet time” in reference to my time spent with God. It seemed, somehow, to cheapen that time, to make it less than it really is.

I’ve changed my mind. No real surprise there; it happens.

“Quiet Time” is, actually, the perfect phrase for what I need the most. When I come to meet with God, it is imperative that I shut out the world and, more importantly, shut out the intrusive thoughts that try to interfere with our meeting. This recent revelation is very much like the one I had before writing “Sacrifice of Praise.” God wants my complete attention, and for Him to have it I need quiet. Yes, literal quiet is bliss, but that’s not exactly what I’m talking about here.

I can’t simply snatch a few moments out of my day and say, “Here, God, these are yours!” True, He and I are talking all day long, but that’s not the same thing. Just like it’s unhealthy (emotionally as well as physically) to eat every meal on the run, it’s spiritually unhealthy to try to develop my relationship with God constantly on the run. We need to sit down together, really dig into the conversations He wants to have while my eyes and heart are focused totally on Him.

So I set aside time. I reserve time for Him and do my best to let nothing interfere with it. In my case, it really is best when I do this first thing in the morning because the “noise” gets so loud later in the day that it grows increasingly difficult to stop what I’m doing, drop all my cares to the floor, and meet Him with a quiet spirit. When I meet with Him first thing in the morning, it also sets the stage for a totally different day. I can literally feel the difference as I drive to work on those days I fail to truly sit down and spend time with Him.

What triggered these thoughts? It’s something Priscilla Shirer says in her devotional, Awaken (which I reviewed here). On Day 27, she shares about what she calls “Sabbath margin.”

“It is the Spirit-empowered choice to cease striving and enjoy our God. It is the margin that reminds us He is in full control. It is the peace that comes in the midst of all that whirlwind and flurry of activity. Sabbath is what beats our lives into submission, giving us the breathing room for getting our sanity back. We cannot afford to neglect the Sabbath principle.”

Priscilla Shirer, Awaken, 2017

Sabbath is about rest. It is about getting quiet and focusing on the eternally important rather than the temporarily pressing. So… Quiet spirit, quiet atmosphere (Thank God I actually have that now!), quiet thoughts… Quiet Time. I get it.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

The Seed in Your Hands

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This sculpture is one of my prized possessions, both because of the ones who gave it to me and the truth it speaks.

The seed in these hands represents the seed in my hands; it represents all I have to offer. The truth is, I don’t even know the limits of what I have to give to others. As a Christian, of course when people talk about planting seeds, one of the first things you think about is financial seeds, but that is only part of what we are to be sowing. And the fact is, know it or not, we’re sowing seeds on a pretty constant basis.

This blog is a seed. My book is a seed. My Facebook group is a seed. But so are those times I spend watching a friend’s toddlers so she can have a minute in the bathroom alone. So is the trash I pick up so someone doesn’t have to, and the cart I return to its place for the same reason…and to potentially protect other cars. So is the grace I give the person who realizes at the last minute that they meant to go right instead of left. So is the smile I give the tired fast food worker. They’re all seeds.

And then there are those other seeds. There is that flash anger at the person who cuts me off, and impatience when the checkout line is too slow. There is the sharp word spoken in a burst of momentary frustration, and the intentional avoiding of someone I’m not in the mood to deal with. There is the seed of being slow to respond when someone asks for help, and saying, “No” when I could easily say, “Yes.” Not that I’m admitting to any of these, of course; they’re just examples…right?

Seeds are seeds, and it is in the nature of the seed to reproduce itself. Were I to plant one of the corn seeds that this statue holds, all things being equal it would grow into a corn stalk and produce a lot more corn seeds that I would then harvest. If I wanted corn, that would be an awesome thing.

But what if corn was something I specifically didn’t want? What then? Well, I’d make sure I didn’t plant that seed!

Galatians 6:7 (NLT) says, “Don’t be misled—you cannot mock the justice of God. You will always harvest what you plant.”

Which returns me to the point of the seed-holding statue. My hands are full of seeds that, if I plant them, will definitely come back to me in far greater measure than what I planted. Remember the 30, 60, 100-fold return? Yeah, if I’m mean and ugly, I will get mean and ugly back – probably at the 100-fold level. (Note to Self: Not the seeds I want to sow!) If I’m patient and loving, I will definitely get patient and loving back – hopefully at the 100-fold level.

The seed is already there, in your hands. Sort through it, determine what you do and do not want to harvest, and make sure you only plant the good stuff.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

She Lived Love

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This is Granny’s hens and chickens plant.

I mean that literally. Because of the way it propagates, it really is the very same plant my grandmother tended from the time I was little. I cannot express how happy I was the day those first starts came into my hands. No, she didn’t physically touch this specific part of the plant, but that doesn’t matter; her touch was there in the beginning. She’s part of it, and it represents the fact that, though I won’t see her again until Heaven, she’s still with me.

This isn’t the only way she’s still with me, of course. Much more importantly, her touch was there in the beginning for me too. Granny touched my life by living Jesus in the most everyday, practical ways. Did she preach? No. Was she constantly reading her Bible? Not that I recall. Did she make a point of sharing Jesus with me every time we were together? Uh uh. So what did she do?

She loved.

Yes, I knew that she belonged to God and had a relationship with Him, but rather than preach to me about Him, she dealt with me as gently as she did with this plant. She tended to my needs. She cared for me. She lived love for me. She never preached a sermon, but she lived a sermon every day of her life. The very fact that I’m where I am today is due in part to her prayers and her faithfulness to live love.

We need more of that.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

A Different Kind of New Year’s Post

Tammy M Cardwell9 Comments

I listen to the clock ticking, and it is a comforting sound. Why?

Silence.

For the first time in many years, the house is silent – no 24-7 TV, no…

Well, I had something else in mind when I wrote the first sentence. I wasn’t at all going to head in this direction, but it’s time. It’s the end of the year for the rest of the world, but the end of an era for me…and I’m ready to shed some things. Maybe, hopefully, my story will encourage others.

Long story a little shorter, I spent decades married to a narcissist. I was in denial most of the time, and though it never really felt right I accepted it as my inevitable normal.

Mind you, there were times in his life (definitely in the last few weeks) when he was right with God, or so I believe. It’s hard to tell because narcissists have a gift for looking like awesome people from the outside. Their spouses and children, though… they pay the price. All things – every, single, thing – revolve around the desires of the narcissist, and they are only “generous” and “thoughtful” when others are looking on and can be impressed. Pretty much nothing matters but them and their happiness. Oh, and anything that goes wrong is inevitably someone else’s fault.

So, if you know the story of my husband’s disabilities, you can imagine how hard the last several years have been. He lost the tight control he’d always held, so he worked even harder in other areas like emotional manipulation and what I’ll call “practical punishment” – such things as trashing the house any time I wasn’t at home. Because, well, his situation was my fault.

There have been good moments. I know there have been, but they are so overshadowed by years of…everything from emotional abuse and infidelity to threats of self-harm, yelling, and ridiculous accusations that those memories are not readily accessible – and I’m not inclined to go digging.

He passed away 3 months ago tomorrow, and every single day of those three months I’ve thanked God for giving me the chance to live the life man is supposed to live. The word for my life right now is “Freedom.”

I’ve survived…no, thanks to God I’ve thrived through over thirty years of pretty much every kind of abuse but physical abuse. With God’s promise of forever, I’ve been able to face each day knowing that “this too shall pass.” Speaking honestly here, it did not kill me; it made me stronger.

The joy of the Lord – both the joy He has given me as I’ve focused on seeking Him through the years and His joy in me – has been my strength. My faith is where it is not in spite of, but because of the battles I’ve fought.

And now?

Now my home is silent enough that I hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. Today, I know continual peace even in the midst of new-widowhood challenges. Today, I know happiness on a level I’ve not seen since I was a child. As one confused friend recently expressed it to my sister, I glow.

So I’m leaving 2022 with a great sense of gratitude, and looking to 2023 with a special kind of hope and expectation.

I’m listening to the clock on the wall with a smile on my face.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

To our friends who thought you knew Jack, I’m sorry you had to learn this. I’ve spent three months letting most people think I’m just relieved not to be the primary caregiver of a very ill person…and I’ve felt like a hypocrite. I’m tired of hiding behind the lies of our life together.

What Do You Have in the House?

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In II Kings 4, a widow approached Elisha for help and he asked her an odd question, “Tell me, what do you have in the house?” All she had was a jar of oil, but God used that jar of oil to work a mighty miracle. We humans tend to overlook what God has already given us, considering it to be “not enough.” Her oil was definitely not enough – until God touched it.

If you read yesterday’s review of Priscilla Shirer’s devotional, Awaken, it shouldn’t surprise you that the following thoughts were triggered by Day 2. And of course I had to apply them to me.

Experiencing the Bible is my jar. The oil is the gift of words and my joy in them (especially my joy in THE Word).

I’d begun a much simpler version of the book years ago. I kept putting it down, and God kept bringing me back to it. This year, I finally finished and published it. I asked God about marketing, but He told me not to worry about it. The point, at that time, truly was obedience.

Then, on October 1st, my husband passed away, taking his income with him, and suddenly I was the widow going to God saying, “I can’t do this on my own. I have to have Your help!” He pointed to the “jar on the shelf” and told me to get started. He has truly been my ever-present help in recent months, supplying my needs in consistently miraculous ways, but He’s also kept me moving forward with a vision that has grown far beyond anything I’d imagined.

In the midst of this my son, who owns Pixel Drip Studio, offered to create a full website to replace this simple blog. That started a conversation, and plans, and ideas that triggered a lot of action. So here I am, pouring out the oil. To the print book, I added first an ebook and then a journal. I’m already looking to the next book…actually, the next two. I’m also studying marketing, newsletters, social media and more.

God gives us all gifts, talents, and abilities, providing us with “jars of oil.” Then it’s up to us to pour out the oil and sell it for a profit. It took the widow time, effort, and humility to go borrow all those vessels from her neighbors and then fill them. Too, it generally requires the help of others, both her neighbors and her son in her case, and my son…both of them actually…in mine.

It can also take walking in obedience in advance. Had I not finished Experiencing the Bible when God told me to, it wouldn’t have been sitting on the shelf when I needed it.

So I’ll repeat Priscilla’s question from Day 2. What are some of the “jars of oil” you might be overlooking right now that He’s already provided?

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

In the Between Time

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I was asked, recently, what I do during the week between Christmas and New Years. My answer? I clean house.

I do mean this partially in the literal sense. The tree comes down, boxes get recycled, etc., but that’s just the beginning. For me, this is a time of transition. I don’t want to wait for January 1 to start making changes; I plan for those changes now.

Spiritually, it means spending a lot more time talking to God about how things have gone this year and how He wants me to change things for next year. It means assessing my habits, heart, and hindrances to my walk as well as my successes and all of the progress I’ve made. And it means thanking Him a LOT for all He’s brought me through and the promising vistas I see ahead of me. It means setting my spiritual goals and making plans for how I can accomplish them.

In the physical, it means getting my office in order so I’m better prepared to grow increasingly serious about my writing and the business of Tammy Cardwell Publishing. I’ve been organizing and spray painting (The easiest solution when expensive solutions aren’t an option.) and organizing some more. I’m also studying. Merciful heavens, but there is a LOT to learn right now!

And, with the help of my ever-creative, genius son (Pixel Drip Studio), I’m working on a whole new website that will include this blog and a lot more. He’s pushing me, and I love it. This morning he was tossing out words like “timeline” and “milestones.” I’m 60 years old now and #owning60. I’m proof that you’re never too old to launch into something new.

So… What does your between time look like?

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C