During my teens and my 20s, when people would ask about my strengths, number 1 on my list was: good listener. I was a person who had little desire to lead a conversation, but could sit and listen to others unload burdens, share funny stories, or boast about exciting things in their lives for hours. By 35, I had lost roughly 30% of my hearing and was proceeding into a rapid decline. My strength had suddenly become my greatest weakness.
God and I have had many conversations about my hearing, but most recently, it’s been this lament–God, why couldn’t you leave a good thing alone…and funny enough the book of Job started popping in the daily readings. Got it, Lord. Who am I to question you? But still I had this nagging feeling that I still wasn’t getting the picture.
Why do I feel entitled to normal hearing? Why do we feel entitled to anything–a long life, a normal functioning body, a steady income, children, etc., etc.?
I feel entitled because I had it. I feel entitled because most people have it. I feel entitled because I want it. Ah, isn’t that something…wanting what we can’t have, wanting what we feel most people have, wanting something back even though time won’t give it back to us? God gets the blame.
“But he saves the afflicted through their affliction, and opens their ears through oppression.” Job 36:15 NABRE
The truth is when I look closely at everything happening in my heart: I am tired. I am tired of having to listen hard. I am tired of being in situations where people are talking with their back towards me, and they assume I can hear. I am tired when the wind starts blowing, and white noise overpowers the person talking. I am tired when music makes conversation hard to hear. I am tired of explaining to people I cannot hear. I am tired.
More recently, as I’ve had to increase my support levels in my implants, my voice has decreased in volume. I assume this is happening because to my cochlear microphones I sound loud, and I adjust my voice for me. But when I do that, to the person sitting across from me, I sound low.
My husband drew my attention to it. So much so that I have started asking people, “Am I talking loud enough?” And have started to notice people talking over me more often, which leads me to assume I am not talking loud enough to be heard.
The irony of me being frustrated with people not talking loud enough or clear enough, now becoming something I do to others is not lost on me.
Seriously, God, what is the deal here?
I decided to read the whole book of Job and this line jumped out: “But he saves the afflicted through their affliction, and opens their ears through oppression.” Job 36:15 NABRE
Ironic.
Oppression has two meanings according to Miriam-Webster dictionary: 1) unjust or cruel exercise of authority or power; 2) a sense of being weighed down in body and mind.
I’m not going to lie. I occasionally feel like God is being a little unjust towards me, and I am weighed down by my inability to hear well. It’s a mental battle–is talking to people worth it? It’s easier to not engage, but I also know deep down, an invitation exists in this situation.
This was Job’s question too: Why, God, and when will I get relief, and aren’t I good and deserving of things better than this? The truth is I like to walk away or disengage when things get hard–it’s a habit of self-protection I developed a long time ago. I have done a lot to break this down, but it’s deeply entrenched and bubbles up often enough.
God continues to challenge me through my lack of hearing–don’t give up….don’t give up on people. Don’t give up on Me. Don’t give up on conversations and friendships. Don’t give up on having fun. Don’t give up on seeing there is more to life than hearing and speaking normally. And it stretches beyond the hearing…these are lessons to not give up simply because extra effort is needed, which applies to many facets of life.
Don’t give up…
Even in the midst of physical suffering.
Even in the midst of loss.
Even in the midst of affliction.
Even in the midst of oppression.
He is using all of it to help us become who He designed us to be. I don’t have a perfect picture of who I am becoming as a result of my hearing loss and my struggles with vocal volume, but I am finding answers to why I need to stay focused on the grace that comes from believing He is working everything for the good of those who love Him. (Romans 8:28)
“But he saves the afflicted through their affliction, and opens their ears through oppression.” Job 36:15 NABRE
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