BLIND FOLDED

Proverbs 3:5  (MSG)  Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don’t try to figure out everything on your own. 

     I remember coming into class for a small group English session in my sophomore year at Marion High School. Mr. Menges was on my schedule, and as I entered, I noticed his glasses perched partway down his nose as he greeted us. 
     He immediately told us we would never know what would happen in his class. To emphasize this point, he whipped out different colored paisley blindfolds.
     “Tadaa!” he grinned.  


     Hmmm.  Weird...I thought. Now what?


     First, we introduced ourselves by answering a few questions about ourselves.
     “Hi, I am Chris. I am a sophomore. I am in the choir. I am taking French and Spanish, and I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up, but I love to travel, read, ride bikes, and play tennis.” The rest of the students followed suit.
     “Next,” he explained, “we will work together in pairs or groups and share some experiences. The first one will begin today.”


     The next thing I know, I am walking around being led by a girl I’ve never set eyes on before while I sport a red bandana covering my forehead and eyes. This is not how I wanted to make an impression at the beginning of the school year.
     High self-esteem was not my strength, and I was well aware that I ranked low on the social status bar. In my freshman year, I turned down pledge invitations from two sororities, and at this high school, that was my big chance to be part of the “in crowd”. 
     So, going around looking goofy and having this blindfold mash my mascara into my face, make a crease in my long, straight, auburn hair, with my hair probably pulled up in the back into a crazy poof did nothing to make me feel any better.

 
     What were we doing this crazy thing for in English class, anyway? Up until now, when I entered an English class, we wrote out grammar exercises or opened a book, listened to boring lectures, and read literature to answer questions or wrote reflections. Going around being led by someone I did not know was off the wall!

     After ascending the stairs to the second floor and down again, leaving the building to roam outside along walkways, my pilot led me through the parking lot. Next, I was steered through the gym. I could smell chlorine and feel the humidity in the pool area. The sound of strings playing floated under the doors as we passed the music hall. Eventually, we ended up outside the library.


     Now, it was my turn to lead my partner around. I chose a different route and tried to be creative. After a ten-minute walk, up and down and all around, we met back in the classroom for our debriefing.

     To begin with, this was only a trust exercise, but now Mr. Menges told us to write down anything we remembered about our experience. 
     Seemingly eccentric, this teacher became one of my favorite teachers. Not only did I learn to trust a fellow student while blindfolded, but I found that all his activities, which initially seemed zany, were meant to trigger my thinking.  
     Pleasantly surprised, I examined ideas that might never have crossed my mind.
This fifth-period class stretched and challenged me. It helped to influence my techniques for mothering, teaching, and writing.


     Then, I remember at Garner State Park, holding my oldest son, Nathan, in front of me as he stood and leaned out to look over the edge of a drop of several hundred feet. He didn’t hesitate for a moment and seemed content in knowing that there was no way that I would let go of my hold on him or even harm him by pushing him off the edge.  


     He completely trusted me, and this belief enabled him to glimpse views from vantage points I still do not dare to look at myself.


     Now an adult, my son's thrill has been climbing fourteeners in Colorado. He pursues extreme challenges and enjoys the view from the high peaks as he progresses up mountains.
Unafraid.
     Yet here I am, still learning to trust God. These days, He invites me to face new tasks that appear insurmountable.  
     “Why did you pick me for this?  How can I go so far?” I wonder aloud.
"I don't think I can take on any more hard things. After all, I am getting up there and retired." 

     My father died two and a half years after my parents moved in with us here in Texas, but now that he is no longer with us on earth, Mom depends on me to get her around to appointments.  
     Then there are our eight children and sixteen grandchildren, whom we want to be here for and whom I dearly love to observe and converse with.



     Is there ever a convenient time to answer a call to minister in another country?  

     During that blindfolded walk in tenth grade, I learned to trust and listen along the way. No one told me ahead of time what to expect. I kept putting one foot in front of the other.    
     My walk with God has also changed my view of where life will lead me. In 2013, my husband and I traveled to Costa Rica on a vision quest to learn more about what God wanted us to do there and seek God's confirmation. 

     Two years later, Jerry drove our vehicle to Costa Rica from Texas. Eleven years later, as of this rewriting in 2024, we have traveled back and forth two to three times a year. I teach women's conferences; Jerry, an evangelist, preaches, and we minister in prayer. Firestarters for Jesus.

      “Trust me,” God urges. I am always with you, and I will be with your loved ones as well. Come with Me to Central America.”
   
 Like my youngster, who leaned over the precipice in total abandon and trust, I thrust myself forward to embrace this new culture, language, and mission. So here I am, Costa Rica, blindfolded but full of faith.