The Glow of the Gooseneck
For a long time, I lived with a cataract in my left eye—my “good” eye. It created a frustrating paradox: I needed intense light to work, yet that same light often caused physical pain. Finding the right balance wasn’t just a home improvement project; it was an accessibility necessity.
I eventually discovered a standing floor lamp with a gooseneck handle. It allows me to position the light exactly over my desk or the end of the couch, using daylight LED settings. This “upgraded” setup provides a friendlier, brighter solution that doesn’t hurt. It’s a reminder that in our faith and our homes, sometimes we just need to shift the angle of the light to see more clearly.
Siri vs. VoiceOver: Choosing My Tools
In my ministry, I value technology as a tool for connection. As a person with a visual disability, my phone is an essential partner in my independence. Siri is, quite simply, one of my favorite tools. I use voice assistants to add events to my calendar, send texts, and have the news read to me. Using my voice to communicate instead of struggling to type on a small screen is a game-changer.
However, not every accessibility feature is a perfect fit. While many people with total blindness rely on VoiceOver, I find its verbosity—reading every single element on the screen—actually slows me down. Part of “Faith, upgraded” is realizing that accessibility isn’t one-size-fits-all. It is okay to use the tools that work for your specific lived experience and set aside the ones that don’t.
The “Pre-Flight” Ritual
Navigating unfamiliar territory can be overwhelming. When I am in crowded or poorly lit spaces, like a conference hall or a new restaurant, I have a “pre-flight” ritual. If I’m with a friend or colleague, I rely on them to help me navigate the flow of the room. If I’m alone, I use my cane for the blind to feel the terrain and identify obstacles.
I’ve learned to be honest about my needs. If a menu is printed in tiny font, I ask for help or see if a digital version is available. While crowds can still make me nervous, I’ve found that finding a place to sit quickly helps me ground myself. Radical inclusion starts with us being brave enough to ask for the space we need to belong.
High-Tech Contrast and Goldenrod Paper
My toolkit is a mix of the modern and the traditional.
- Low-Tech: I rely on large, dark-lined paper pads. I also print essential documents on goldenrod paper. The high contrast between the dark ink and the yellow-gold background is much easier for my eyes to process.
- High-Tech: My iPad is my go-to for reading. Unlike a physical book, I can zoom in and enlarge text until it’s comfortable.
The Spiritual Discipline of a Slower Walk
There is a specific pace to moving through the world with a cane. On a sidewalk, I have to be cautious of low-hanging tree branches or potholes that might catch my cane tip. It can be annoying when the rest of the world is rushing past, but I’ve started to see this as a spiritual discipline.
Walking slower forces my whole body to slow down. It forces me to breathe. In that deliberate, cautious pace, I am more aware of God’s presence all around us. When we stop rushing toward the destination, we finally start noticing the journey.
