walking the rope

my youngest son has to do eye exercises 6 days a week. one of his eyes doesn’t want to do its job all the time. when it shuts down, so does my little man’s depth perception. it affects everything—his balance, his gross motor skills, his confidence. we have been battling this eye since my son was 2. we may be battling it his entire life.

one of his exercises is what we affectionately calling walking the rope. we unroll about 20 ft. of rope, lay it in a straight line on the floor and then watch as Wyatt tries to walk from one end to the other. when he first started this exercise, he would throw his arms out wildly, bob left and right and eventually fall off the rope. every failed attempt would ignite his frustration. every failed attempt would poke a hole in my heart.

i learned a little trick that helped my little man out. if i stood in front of him at the end of the rope and told him to look at me, he would calm down, find his footing and slowly make his way down the line. oh, he would still fall off some, but something about focusing up instead of at his feet helped him to find his balance.

i felt like my little man this week. i was out of balance, destabilized, uncertain, wobbly. this week i went back to school.

yep, my metaphorical rope is a return to academia after a 16-year hiatus.

on June 30, we became homeowners, and i became a master’s student. life has been a whirlwind ever since. my degree plan required a weeklong, intensive course in aug. i knew it was going to be hard. i didn’t know it was going to throw me completely off balance. i went to walk on the rope and found that all the arm waving in the world wasn’t going to keep me on it.

it was hard. it was uncomfortable. it was destabilizing. it was exactly what i needed in a painful, breaking down kind of way. He is stretching me, preparing me for what is next, forcing me to build some muscle where flab has been dominate. after my first full day of class, i came home and threw a little fit. is this it? did i hear you right? what in the world am i doing here? ahhh, ever gentle and tender with me, my savior looked at me, smiled and gave me the picture of my little man trying to make his way across his literal rope.

look at me. stop looking at your feet.

i can’t see far ahead of me right now. my depth perception is temporarily disengaged. all i can do is trust, put one foot in front of the other and look at the one who has called me on this journey. in looking at him, i have found my center. i have found rest on my rope.

(ok, for all you nosey rosey’s out there. i’m getting my master’s in counseling. it is about time that my competence match my eagerness. go back and read this post and i think you will get a pretty good understanding as to why.)