Sunday, January 16, 2011

Like a Stuck Doorbell....

It's funny. Since summer took a walk to the other end of the globe...and it's been too cold and the air has been too full of woodsmoke for me to be able to continue my outdoor "powerwalking" program,...I've been turning to that queen of video workouts...the exercise phenomenon and guru of us chubbies....Leslie Sansone. People adore her. Worship her. They collect her massive output of DVDs and religiously march, side-step, and kickback to the beat of driving synthesizer music with which can barely be heard above Leslie's constant perky chatter and her frequent giggles. Depending on the mood I'm in...I either ignore the babble and just focus on her directions and the counting of the steps...which are remarkably accurate and all one needs to keep up with what is going on on the screen, without needing to watch...or I amuse myself by hurling insults at the hapless motivator who is innocently continuing with the drivel and the lines which by now are burned into my frontal lobe by the daily repetition and by the fact that the same jokes, the same information the same steps are reiterated on every single one of her forty million videos.

And yet, there is comfort in this familiarity and I feel quite certain that Leslie herself is quite unperturbed by my repeating the very same comebacks and insults which I fire at her daily as well...It is like a comfortable ritual...You drive me crazy...while you also completely ignore the fact that I am relentlessly mocking you as both of us step and sweat together in the quest for slender fitness. And Leslie, I do have to admit...you've gotten me from the point of falling breathless to the ground after a fairly leisurely one mile....to being able to HUSTLE at full speed for a solid 60 minutes of aerobic walking and exercising with nary a gasp. And that, my friend in tights; my sister in sweat....is a major miracle.

So I'm sure that my gratitude for her program far outshines my mockery at her bubble-headed femininity in which I am sure I share no part...despite the double X in my chromosomal makeup...Leslie and I are different animals altogether....but one thing we both share: our sexy tushes and our ever-thinning thighs and our passion for hustling our fit bodies into quivering sweaty masses of gratitude at the 5 mile marker....

And now...nursing two hips destroyed by arthritis and facing bilateral replacement surgery in the immediate future, I sadly say adieu to my stacks of videos and dvds all graced by Leslie's perky self and I fight the temptation to play them just to pretend like I'm still sidestepping with grace accompanied by Leslie's inane chatter...which I (don't tell any one because I'll deny it) now sorely miss.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

No Apologies

It is nice to be known isn't it??
By a friend, By the Lord.
And to be free to be whomever it is that you are...without apology or excuses...knowing that you will still be loved.
That is something I'm still trying to learn...that I don't have to make excuses or apologize to those who love me.
I'm so used to constantly apologizing to certain people in my life....for my very existence...and to never having those apologies accepted.

I now have two relatively new friends who love me without qualification. And they are amused by the fact that I constantly feel like I have to offer apologies when I think I may have crossed some invisible line of expectation or propriety....They tell me over and over, "You don't have to apologize to me...I love you."
And while that is wonderful to hear...it is also difficult.
Because honestly, I can't think of many (any??) other people in my life of whom that has also been true. There are and have been several in my life...less than the fingers on one amputee's hand (lol)....

There is a freedom in love. A freedom to BE--just who I am without excuses. Without fear. Without condemnation. (now I've done it; I'm crying....)
It is the way Jesus loves me.
And I think I am always apologizing to him too ...for my existence ...for my failures...

And He just shakes his head and tells me - through the mouths of these friends - You never have to apologize for being who you are. I made you. I love you.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

The School of the Storm

Well, it' s been a day of epiphany and revelation.

Don't you love that? When God just yanks the covers off which you've pulled over your head and removes the hand you're holding so tightly over your eyes to hide from the storm booming all around...and says to you, "HOW can you see this gorgeous rainbow I've hung in the sky with your eyes all covered like that?" And you look with trepidation and lo and behold, where the world seemed to be ending just moments earlier, is the Bow of God's Promise, hanging in the dissipating clouds and patches of blue sky are beginning to show. It speaks of the promise which says, "I will not drown you again. That despair that once buried you ten feet under in the mud from the storm-to-end-all-storms...it will never again consume you completely." Yes, there will be rain showers, even storms...but they will never again have the power to utterly destroy me like they once did...a long time ago, to be sure, but the terror remains.

And my God has been faithful to keep that promise...even when bad news quakes my landscape...Or a good friend deserts and betrays me....or when health fails and it looks to be permanent... Despair flirts with me, to be sure. It pokes its head into my heart and says, "haha! Gotcha now!" But the Hope, sent by my friend, Faith, comes and beats it back with a stick., telling it, "BEGONE! You have no authority or guest privileges here so WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???"

And in really, really bad storms...like this one, when I'm SURE that all is lost, the Lord of the Storm himself, comes in, hangs that bow in the clouds and gently walks me to the window to have a look.

This is not twenty years ago.
"You are not the same woman you were twenty years ago.
But I am the same Lord of the Storm--I dug you out of the mud all those years ago, and then I promised that if you would cling to my hand, the rain and mud could never again have the power to overpower you completely."

And He is --and was--and always will be faithful to keep his promises. You'd think I'd relax a bit and lean on Faith's shoulders a bit more heavily. But I always was a slow learner in the school room of Life. Thank the Lord, that Patience--is a good teacher and always lives up to her name!

Monday, January 3, 2011

Earmuffs that look like Athletic Supporters....

My dad wrote me an email today...He does this every day. He has too much time on his hands, I think. Actually I love that he does this. It makes me feel loved. So I sat down to answer his letter...and his wish to me for a "Quiet after-the-holiday-Monday." And the following is what came out of my keyboard.... And yes. I did send it to him.

hi,
Quiet. Yes.

I'm the only one home so I'm allowed to BREAK the quiet by blasting music.

I can even sing with it if I want............so far the neighbors haven't called the cops or banged on my door.

I'm doing laundry and straightening the weekend chaos that always lands on my house. Clothes were strewn about after the rushed, "Does-this-make-me-look-fat?" try-on before church. Had a mess of dishes to do...mostly silverware...as though every piece we own, made it into the sink. I think my husband was even eating with salad mixing spoons as the rest of the clean silver was now dirty. (OH THE PICTURE that came to my mind with that slight exaggeration--wish I was a good cartoonist. I'd draw it!)

The reason for the lopsided array of dishes is two-fold:
1) (and mainly) because I HATE washing silverware so it's major on my list of things to procrastinate about.
2) there was no room on my dish rack after I got done doing the OTHER dishes...so I "saved it up" like it was some special treat to be savored.

I walked down to pick up a package at the mailroom which required a signature. It was cold out there...but a nice day for a walk.
I put those weird earmuffs on that wrap around the back of the head and remind me of athletic supporters...not that I've ever SEEN an athletic supporter...except the ones cheering in the stands at football games; it's just what my twisted imagination came up with as I searched for a simile to describe those ridiculous earmuffs
...which is where we started..so get on with your story...
Okay.

I also wore big sunglasses ( the sun was BRIGHT -- I needed them.) and then, because of my asthma I took a dress scarf with BRIGHT flowers printed on it in a chaotic design and wrapped it around my nose and mouth and tucked the ends into my parka. (my daughter's parka...details). So I probably looked something like that weird looking character on H. R. Puffinstuff. (OK, so now I've hopelessly dated myself and most of you are scratching your head saying "WHAT???" Note to self: avoid word pictures that only you can relate to.)

And then, once geared and adorned for the task, I picked up my inhaler and the house keys and began to walk down the road.
Yes, I did--
--Mrs."Does this make me look fat" ...with complete disregard for the howls of laughter coming from the numerous cars that passed me..even disregarded the rubbernecking traffic jam she caused.

So that was my day...
Bet yours can't compete with excitement like that.
nope.


Love cyn


I can't help it...I'm a compulsive blogger...even my emails turn into blog posts.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

The Inexpressible Incomprehensible

I just had a conversation with a good friend of mine. He is elderly but has a sharp mind...and an IQ in the 160's. He was a scientist ("is" a scientist...still studying ...just no longer working) and I love to have the kind of conversation with him that we just had. We talked about abstract ideas of quantum physics and how that field relates to faith. And we talked about neurophysiology and how that is related to morality. It was a stimulating conversation and I could feel doors opening in my mind taking me to previously unexplored rooms (or "boxes" as he calls it) of thought and much of what we discussed will bear further consideration.

I love the way science and the higher mathematics relate to abstract ideas....Things like time reversal and different dimensions (up to 22 may exist he said, as proposed by a theory called "string theory" which is currently driving Stephen Hawking crazy as he struggles to wrap even HIS prodigious intellect around it) and how these things may imply the existence of parallel levels of reality...the implications of these ideas are far reaching...and plunge into areas of faith, education, morality, and future possibilities that right now, boggle the mind. It ALL speaks to me of the vastness of God.

There are men, men of great intelligence to be sure, who worship the mind of man (and their own in particular)...and they simply cannot get around that massive blinder that pride puts in front of them, to be able to concede to an intelligence and power greater than their own. They cannot see that all around them the universe screams the name of the one who created it...simply because they will not admit that there are things they don't know...that they can NEVER know. Things too wonderful for the mind to contain. Things which we right now, see only dimly, like in a dirty mirror ...and therefore they will reject the offer extended for them to see them "face to face." Their intelligence has become their ignorance.

And I don't understand that.
It's a box I'm not in.
Nor do I WANT to be in it.

For me, there is a thing called wonder. A thing called amazement. An understanding that there is a Being and things beyond this universe (or maybe within it in another dimension) that are incomprehensible and far too wonderful and too complex for our puny minds to grasp. That does not bring fear or despair to me...because it is okay that it is too vast. Like a small child takes comfort in the fact as he holds the hand of his father as they maneuver through Grand Central Station, that DAD KNOWS WHERE HE IS AND WHERE HE IS GOING. It's perfectly okay to that toddler that he doesn't know. Because he trusts his dad's superior intelligence and level of comprehension and skill.

And it does not anger me as it must these gentlemen. Because I'm well aware of my limitations....and that might be their one fatal blindness.

Kutless | Vow