18 | June | 2008 | Love, Laughter, and Life

Did you know they have band-aids for eyeballs? I found out today. It’s not even an exciting story or anything! I was putting away my clothes in the dresser. Yes, that’s it. I wasn’t climbing a mountain, walking in the wind, chopping wood, or riding my bike on the Greenway.

As I was deeply involved in this exciting adventure of laundry, I puffed ???? some air and something else up beneath my glasses and into my eyeball. Ouch. It felt immediately like a pokey and sharp prize in my eye. I have an older dresser, which always has splinters and little bits of wood in the bottom. So it was that – or lint. I really wanted to stay in this mode of most exciting day, but my eye hurt. I rinsed, rubbed (gently), put in drops, cried, flushed…nothing changed except it got worse.

All good things have to come to an end, so I stopped putting away clothes and cleaning out the closet. I had to break down and call for a ride to the eye doctor. [Sidenote: Dr. LaBissoniere. I chose him in high school because his last name is French.] The receptionist, of course, asked what was wrong. I gave a blow by blow account of the fantastic details of my movie-like life event…I was worked into the schedule.

After I explained my weird, let’s just say it, it’s too weird, not even spectacular, accident for the 3rd time in the office (not counting on the phone), the doctor came in. She got those giant insect lens looking things out and peered into my eye. “There it is. A piece of wood. Sticking straight into your cornea. It never would’ve come out by itself.”

Whew. I’m glad I wasn’t over-reacting. But my mind had already thought ahead to HOW it was coming un-stuck from my eyeball. And could I please be put out for that. “Oh, we will numb your eye.” Is that by shot, because if it is, I’m outta here, sliver or not in my eyeball.

“We have eyedrops.” Ok then, praise the Lord for eyedrops! Now that’s a weird feeling. Numb eyeball. I could just barely see her stick the tweezer-thingy’s in and grab out the wood.

Now, there were scratches, but they are off center of my field of vision, so if there is scarring (I hadn’t even thought of that yet!), it wouldn’t really affect my main vision. “I’m going to give you a band-aid (thinking eye patch here) so the scratches will be protected while they heal. And some antibiotic eye drops.”

Band-aid for eyeballs = contact band-aid! How cool is that! She popped it into my eye, and I wear it until I see her in 2 days. Luckily, I already wear contacts, so I’m used to things being in my eye (but not pieces of wood). No makeup, no contacts, no rubbing…Just eye drops and a contact band-aid. The marvels of modern medicine and technology.

It was exciting until my sister, who I love dearly, said, “Oooh, how will they take it out?” Good question. Surely contact band-aids don’t rip off your skin like normal ones, do they?

You learn something new every day. And any typos are a direct result of a contact band-aid and blurry vision.

My bad! I haven’t blogged for quite awhile…but who’s counting? Kevin and I are getting ready to head to Richmond, Virginia, and Oklahoma City for our appointment week! Yeah! That means one more step in the process to serve the Lord overseas in east Paris. 🙂

I was reminiscing recently, thinking back to when our 2, Bub and Bubbette (thanks Grandpa) were preschoolers. My journey through missions began then. But my love of all things French started much earlier, high school, or maybe middle school. I was fascinated with the French people and culture. I dreamed of visiting or studying in France. (visited – yes; studied there – no). My mom likes to say I was born French, just in the wrong country.

Fast forward to Kevin and I having 2 little Q’s. I needed something to do with them on Wednesday nights, while Kevin was working with the youth. Nothing was offered for preschoolers or children. Our pastor suggested we try Mission Friends. Wow! What a great and life changing choice for us. The curriculum is great. We had a ball learning about people groups, countries, cultures, customs, foods, languages…and missionaries that lived and worked in different places around the world to tell others about the love of Jesus. With each lesson and unit, I became more and more involved and in love with missions (living with the love, heart, and eyes of Jesus).

Skip forward many years. I was blessed to write curriculum for Mission Friends (another love of mine is preschoolers) and articles for Mosaic. With each assignment, I became thirstier to join the team of those serving the Lord in other lands. My call to missions didn’t happen immediately, but God used numerous layers of experiences to point out and confirm His will for me. Another layer was the mission trips I took. Kevin went with me to Paris to work alongside believers in the city. That trip confirmed our call to serve overseas. It also gave us our destination – Paris.

Leap ahead again! (God knew we would take awhile to be really ready!) We are poised on the edge of leaping totally into His arms of care and into a different culture. Our little Mission Friends are grown up and ready to live independently of mom and pop (ouch! it went so fast). So instead of them leaving home, well, they really have already, mom and dad are moving away!

On Friday, June 27 in Oklahoma City, we will be appointed as missionaries. (Please pray for our commissioning service and the weather! As true northwesterners, we are used to volcanoes, rain, wind, snow, dust, sun, snakes, scorpions…not tornadoes!). Upon our return home, we will prepare in earnest to transfer residence to France. The house is gone, but too much stuff is still hanging around. You know what that means ~ yard sale, storage unit, giving away, selling, packing, loaning…the paperwork alone is daunting. Kevin will still be PK (Pastor Kevin) until December 28. In January, we travel to Richmond for orientation and training. We anticipate being in Paris and attending language school in early April. Tres bien, oui?

Good news – we have YEARS of experience. Bad news – it is harder to learn a foreign language as an older (not ancient) adult. We were even advised of this tidbit at a previous meeting. Sigh. But I do believe these 2 old dogs can learn new tricks – and vocabulary. So, woof woof, I mean au revoir, mes amis.