9 months post cochlear implant surgery...


Last night, my dad accidentally butt dialed me. It might seem like nothing to most people, but to me it was a phone call I'll never forget. I answered it and we talked for about 10 min. Towards the end of the conversation, he paused and said, "It's pretty amazing you can hear me." I teared up and went on to explain that I can't even explain what it's like to people. For my entire life, my dad has always been harder for me to hear. His voice is low and quiet. I've never been able to pick up on lower tones. On any hearing test, those were the sections I failed miserably on...like I would literally would just guess. 9 months post surgery and I can hear my dad without lipreading...pretty amazing. There is just something about hearing your dad's voice. After I hung up, Joseph smiled because he knew how big of deal it was and my mom actually text me...


I got to thinking of how often we miss hearing our heavenly Father's voice over the noise of the world. The worries and the weight of the world often drown out what we truly need to hear. I've felt like that lately with everything going on in society. I have to remind my self to drown out the noise and seek and discern truth. Just a little snippet of what's on my heart...this is what matters in the end...so keep listening and drown out the noise...


One year ago, I couldn't talk on the phone with my dad. One year ago, my nights were way more silent and my kids have always used flashlights so I could see their lips in the dark or while driving in the car at night. Last week, my daughter and I had a whole conversation in the dark on the way home from a soccer game. That same evening, Joseph and I were sitting outside having a bonfire and I was taking in all the sounds of night. Nights aren't silent anymore. Who knew life would look so much different a year later…thank God for technology and medical advancements🤍


ps…bugs and frogs are noisy and 7 weeks to the day till my second surgery...I can't fathom this times 2.


One Change a Day,

Aime Beth