Post Title: Up for the Challenge

Snow, Snow and More Snow!

As I mentioned in the last post, in the northeast, snow has dominated our landscape and, therefore, our lives. Ha! Snow has been showing up in North Carolina and in other non-typical snow areas as well.

It’s a challenge for most of us, especially those who do not deal with it on a regular basis.

The challenges range from the predicable—the heavier workload of shoveling pathways and driveways to, making sure areas are salted, higher heating bills, the extra time it takes to clothe when you go out to unclothed when you arrive at your destination, and even the frustration of diving behind a slow snowplow salting the roads—to the unpredictable—dealing with black ice, being rear-ended enroute to your destination, slipping down icy patches on steps, and unexpected asthma attacks brought on by the cold.

Yes, living in the snow-belt states definitely brings its multifold, built in predicaments.

Texture and Beauty

The other day I was bringing in the trash receptacle and it had snowed the entire day. With my glove, I cleaned the snow off. To my surprise, it felt light and fluffy on my gloves. I turned the recycling bin over and knocked the light, airy substance out. I looked around me and saw a distinct beauty in my side yard and across the street where we have a number of trees. In the fading, late afternoon light, it looked breathtakingly beautiful. I scooped up a handful from the ground. It felt so soft.

I relished that moment.

So different from the crunchy, ice-beneath-the-surface snow we had been experiencing and the bitter cold we had been feeling—single digits—it was still cold. You could see your breath in the air. But the moment felt fresh and lovely.  A pristine gift.

Work Ride Drop off

Yesterday, my sister-in-law dropped me off at work. I was telling her about my recent escapades (and follow-up mistakes!) with my customers. She said, “It seems as if you are up to the challenge though.”

“Yes, I am!” I said proudly.

She had to drop me off behind a truck, which was not moving for some unknown reason. It was not my normal drop off point. She was a little anxious and asked if I could find my way in.
“Of course!” I got out of the car and stopped to get my bearings. I was in the long section between the supermarket entrance and exit.  I took a hesitant step to the right.

Julie arrived at my side, tucked her arm comfortably into mine and together we walked to the entrance.

I laughed at myself. Up for the challenge? Ha!

 Famous last words.

Yet I felt a certain beauty in that moment, too. Exactly as I had in the snow. The same fresh encounter in the midst of challenge. Sisterhood. Caring. A lightness.

Throughout the day, I thought about her caring, the natural outreach. My instinct is always to say, “No, I can do it myself.” To brush off any inkling of assistance. I would work it out myself. It might take longer, but in the end, I would succeed.

Between customers, I pondered the dichotomy between challenge and the beauty of assistance.

I know I’m not alone.

Toddlers, kids, the elderly, disabled veterans, even those who find themselves debilitatingly ill—like my brother—and, of course, those with sight loss, bristle against the challenge of trying to balance independence and going it alone versus needing and receiving help.

I have a friend who is blind, who has written songs about asking for help and the blessing it brings others as well as to the one who needs it.

There is a wide fluctuation of responses from those who chaff to those who welcome it.

 

gray background with white snowflakes sprinkled all over the background, with text that reads: “…I have come that they (His children) may have life and have it to the full.” John 10:10 NIV

 

Life Lessons and Beauty in Challenge

By the end of my shift, I concluded that I was definitely up to the challenges that comes with being a legally blind and hard-of-hearing cashier. Yes, I could predict some of the challenges—the green cucumbers blending into the black conveyor belt. Not seeing when a guest offers me cash instead them paying by card. I have to be more cautious when looking at denominations of cash to put in my drawer. All of those challenges go with the territory, like dealing with the snow.

The unpredictability of the challenges, on the other hand, doesn’t allow me to be complacent. I need to be vigilant, to deal with them on a case-by-case, situational basis. And if I don’t try to “grandstand” it—aka “go it alone”—I can find a simple beauty in those situations.

The beauty of calling for help in the supermarket comes in different forms. Like the beauty of the soft, powdery snow, it comes with fresh outlook. The help is offered with a cheery voice. A skip to my side. A glance at my produce screen or the produce number too small for me to see. Or it could be some unusual request I have no idea what has been asked.

Working as a cashier at the supermarket combined with my specific disabilities it is teaching me the beauty of interdependence. It’s all a matter of perspective. I can view it as constant snow underneath my feet, causing me extra work, or the chance of stumbling, or I can see the beauty of those who want to plow me out. The expense is my pride. And yet, isn’t it worth it?

A toddler, a strong-willed child, an elderly parent each battles challenges tempered by individual needs. How they view the situation determines whether it becomes an additional obstacle or a moment of security or beauty in the midst of an obstacle.

Wow. That seems profound.

Now when I think of the soft snow and warm arm, I want to see my sight and hearing challenges as simply another season in my life. One season melds into another, and natural elements bring out inherent beauty.

I recall the many challenges forced on my brother by his illness at the end of his life. It brings tears to my eyes when I recall how one attendant told him he did not want to “bother” him (by helping him) when he had company—his family visiting. Mike said, “You’re no bother. You help me a lot.” Mike’s response touched me to the core.

I think necessity taught him that lesson sooner than I learned it.

I am up for the challenges of my job as a cashier, and in the wider realm, my life. Even when I seem to contradict myself with my body language and words. The reality is I intend to live a full life of joy and laughter and see the beauty of the season God places me in.

However crazy the day unfolds, when I close my eyes at night, I feel the warmth of God’s arm intertwined with my own, supporting me.

I thank him with a full heart for the beauty and blessing he has positioned in my life that day.

© by Amy L. Bovaird.” Up for the Challenge” February 25, 2025. All Rights Reserved.