Most folks think of dyslexia as a reading disorder, but that’s just one side of the experience. I enjoy moderate dyslexia, which means I have to double-check words and numbers when I read or write them. When I do, the errors of each review tend to cancel each other out … after lots of corrections.
The advantage is, all that double-checking gives me time to sort out meanings, as well as letter, word, and integer order. While grabbing details is often difficult, concepts are usually clearer than mud.
Dyslexia can also play with your mind in other ways, such as causing stuttering. Chronic visual and recall uncertainty tends to make us involuntarily recite in fits and starts. It can also affect face/name identification, moods, and name/face identification, and even moods.
That last one is actually a benefit, as it forces me at times to associate thoughts and ideas that don’t normally line up. Usually, it just produces a muddle, which is one reason (perhaps not the only one) why some folks think of me as … ah … eccentric.
Did I mention “spiritual” in the title? That divergent thought pattern also benefits my spiritual sensitivity, or acuity (toss a coin on that one). It tends to keep me thinking about God “out of the box,” which often prevents me from languishing in preconceptions and stereotypes—the resting-place of the ignorant—and provides more fuel for my “eccentric” image. I’m actually learning to withhold my half-baked thoughts in Bible studies, for the most part, although my fellow students might debate that point.
I deeply believe that God enjoys his freedom from confinement in preconceptional boxes, but face it, he’s too big and great and wonderful to nail down—except on the cross reserved for him. He will be loved and worshiped regardless of naysayers’ and skeptics’ best attempts at ignoring him.