Type C?

Bellezza is a blogger that I met because I posted about my favorite book about friendship, A Bargain for Frances. I had a few extra copies that I had gotten at the Fox Books Bargain Bin and so I (after many months, so imperfect am I!) sent her one. She sent me the audio version of Jacob have I loved. Blog love--it's the best!

So I borrow from her for today's post.

So this post is based on her post on perfection (Impossibly Perfect):

An earlier commenter answered with this,

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.
-2 Corinthians 11:30 (I have linked the Message translation. The verse is ACTUALLY 2 Cor 12:9, but Grace's mistake got me to searching around in Biblegateway.com and actually pulling out my own tattered Bible.)

and then I chimed in.

I love that verse. It (and your post) reminds me of a verse from a song "our weaknesses become his opportunities."

I want to do it (whatever "it" is) perfect too. Few people know that about me because I give off the "Type B" aura--but my one boss has seen it in me, and I am forever grateful.

(Type B'ers are often Type A's that have seen so much imperfection in themselves that they've pretended that they've given up trying.) Maybe we should try to be Christ's Type, since HE is the Alpha and the Omega.

Working these things out alongside you,

Sarah Louise

It has taken me until this, my 35th year, to realize what my "thorn" is. (No, it's not bipolar disorder, more on THAT below.) I HAVE asked for both of these to be taken away, but...(see above.)

So a few more: "I will go before thee, and make the crooked places straight." (Isaiah 45:2)

And my favorite favorite song:

Okay, in searching for it, I found this. Which is a good detour on the way to where I'm trying to go.

[from my post about the PA Library Association Conference last fall] Yesterday it was very interesting riding the bus back to the hotel (the Rachel Simon talk was at Heinz Field--y'know, where the Stillers play!!). You could tell which women (we're librarians--we're 95% women) understood Rachel's message and which women hadn't had a situation where they were faced with a disability in someone they loved.

Bipolar isn't labeled a disability, it's a disorder. And I pretty much function like anyone else. I have an exuberent loud laugh, I enjoy life, and sometimes I get deep into the pit of the muck of my life. On the surface, I'm fine. And yet, those that know me, know that my life is hard. Harder because I have to take meds four times a day. Harder because I need to see my therapist every week. Harder because I have to deal with these inner mood swings. Harder because when I see someone who is hurting, I want to help them so badly because I know what it's like.

Rachel (Simon, author of Riding the bus with my sister) talked about "curism" and how a lot of folks in the disabled world hated Christopher Reeves before his death because he was so hooked on getting a cure. (They didn't so much hate him after he died.) But how his relentless search for a cure--well, some of us know that we are better people for the broken places. We are more sensitive to others with disabilities or disorders. We understand the human condition just a little differently than someone who doesn't have a disability or disorder. If someone could cure me of bipolar disorder, I'm not sure I'd take that cure. I have developed a social network because I am one of those lucky people that need people. When I hit my hard roads when the future is bleak, I have to look at my life and see where the patchwork has unravelled. I don't know that I would work that hard at my life if I didn't have the mood swings to manage. Rachel shared a wonderful phrase that I'll share with you: she is a woman who happens to have...as if it was one of a myriad of qualities. Which it is. I am a woman who happens to love pink. I am a woman who happens to love country music. I am a woman who happens to love the city of Pittsburgh. I am also a woman who happens to have bipolar disorder.

Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

(Rascal Flatts, God Bless the Broken Road) [end of post on PALA]

I've been thinking about broken roads.

Pittsburgh sidewalks are a bit like that. Broken, they trip you up. Okay, I don't know where I'm going with that. For another time....