the 'I' in quitter

So here I am, on just day 2 of this fitness challenge/competition I've joined
and already the BS in my head has started.

I'm draggin butt, sore and desperately wanting to go back to bed.  And someone in my head is running color commentary...
     "Now? You're gonna do this NOW? You thought pushin 40 with a half-wonky knee was a good time to do this?  Maybe you shoulda thought about this like 15-20 years ago!" 

    I have this picture in my head (probably inspired by the pictures of the winners of last year's challenge) of what I'll look like when this is done.  But my head's color commentator isn't buying it. 
"Wow! I mean wow...really? That's a really optimistic...and by optimistic I mean unrealistic... picture isn't it? Hellooo...4 kids later! You'd need a magic wand not a workout plan!"

And seriously, I mean... yeah. right?  I'm almost 40 and the only things bouncing back are the things that shouldn't be at this point!  My knee wont be 100% for a while still, my shoulder has joined my knee in the complaints department and if someone started adding up all the other times I quit one thing or another in my life it'd be a full-time job. 

Fortunately for me, I've got a coach/accountability partner/cheerleader that is second to none.  Pam DOES NOT take any bull.  She's not interested in my excuses, my complaints, or my "yeah, but".  So when I don't want to, she's the voice I hear saying "AWWWW HELL NO!!"

And I need it. Cause I'm NOT going to be a quitter this time.  My 'I'  wont be used in that word anymore! 

Cause I'm almost 40 dang it! That's 4 decades of accumulated knowledge, experience and awesomeness to draw from.  So if I decide NOW is the time...it's cause I'm finally prepared, ready, focused, self-confident and able to GET IT DONE!!

Rachel vs Jillian Michaels

The Tulsa Shock came to Rachel's school today for the "Time out for Fitness" assembly.

Who are the Tulsa Shock you ask?  You animal! How dare you not know of the unmatched Tulsa WNBA team!!! The nerve!

So a couple of players, some cheerleaders (David was heartbroken and deeply disturbed that his class did not go to this event...where there were cheerleaders...pretty pretty cheerleaders...) and VOLT!

"Volt is awesome! I love Volt! Really...I love him!" 
From the moment she got home, till I sent her to bed...that's pretty much all I heard.

Volt said....

Volt did...

Volt showed us...

Apparently this Volt (the team mascot - most likely a fox) did a whole presentation, complete with backflips and lots of jumping around, about fitness.   He gave the kids this brochure with all kinds of info about exercise, eating well and creating good habits.

 So all evening Rachel ran around...literally...jogged around the house, jumping-jacked around the house, lunged around the house, did arm circles around the house, butterfly-kicked around the house, knee-lifted around the house... you see where this is going

I had to holler at her twice to sit down during dinner because she would get up and jump around while eating her pizza (probably not too horrible an idea).  I don't know if she continued her exercise mania during church...and I don't want to know either.

As part of her fitnesspalooza evening she also came up with a fitness slogan she's gonna share with everyone so she can help them get fit....prepare yourself...

"BE FIT NOT FAT!" 

This was where she started channeling Jillian Michaels...

"mom, you just gotta tell people they HAVE to be fit.  It makes you sick if you're not!  So if I see someone and they're fat I'm gonna tell them BE FIT NOT FAT!" 

oh...

oh no...

not good...

it's a good thing she didn't proceed to tell me, the person with the authority to spank her hiney, to BE FIT NOT FAT...cause them's fightin words!

I had to crush her dream of the Rachel BE FIT NOT FAT fitness craze (I know I keep writing it in caps...it's cause she was VERY emphatic every time she said it!) with a discussion about nice words vs hurtful words.

She's in the process of developing a new slogan.

I'll keep you updated...

completely unmeaningful hilariousness

So this begins as so many of my finer moments do...at the Walmart.

I'm waiting in line in front of this lady and she's got 2 little kids...like younger than 3...in the basket of the cart with all the groceries piled in around them.  It's been a looooong wait and she's flipping through magazines and talking on her phone.  I hear the kids kinda being rowdy and hear her tell them to be quiet and settle down.

   So, of course...as any professional mother with vast experience will do...I kinda glance over my shoulder at the kiddies in the basket because my trouble sensor was tingling.  I notice they are literally sitting on several items (like veggies, a box of muffins, some bagels...) that definitely should not be sat on.  I look up and she's completely oblivious; on the phone and getting her important news update courtesy of Woman's Day. 

  Oh well...live and learn I always say. So I turn around and continue to wait.


Couple of minutes later I hear a giggle...followed by a bigger giggle...followed by SHHHHHH!!

A glance back reveals mom still completely immersed in whether Kim K. has a new Saudi beau and how she lost 10 pounds to catch him and her phone conversation (which apparently was not very engrossing)...the kids however had managed to open the ketchup bottle in the cart and were squirting it around and finger painting to their little hearts' content.

I did what any other person would do "Excuse me ma'am..."  

The response I got... she didn't even acknowledge me.  She raised the "hold on" finger at me without even looking my way, rather rudely and emphatically I might add.  Who could she possibly be talking to and what information contained within the bastion of knowledge know as STAR magazine could make someone unable to look at a person trying to address them?  The world may never know!

Meh...alrighteee then. 

So I did what probably not every other person would do...I looked them kids square in the eyes, gave them a biggo smile, (cause someone has to appreciate their artistic endeavors) and turned back around.  Just in time to start loading my items onto the register belt thingy.

The high pitched shrieking and shocked mutterings of "OH MY GOD...what are you doing?!!! OH MY GOD!!!" a minute later told me the jig was up. 

Since there was no way I could possibly deal with the situation now without excessive laughter and possibly peeing my pants,  I quickly paid for my stuff, shared a conspiratorial smile with the checker (who I'm pretty sure witnessed the whole thing) and left as quickly as possible laughing and snorting as quietly as possible.

I LOOOOVE WALMART!!!!

Stripped

I really think most of us have been here.  If you haven't, congratulations and prepare yourself...cause you will...one day.  And whether it's been years, months, days or hours, there's a reason we have that lovely "light at the end of the tunnel" saying...  There absolutely is light and love and perfection in death...especially in the death of our "selves" when we turn our mess over to God.


I hate it. I hate all of it!
The feeling that everything that could have been is gone.  The feeling that everything you've worked for, believed in, trusted in, planned around - gone.
Tossed away   disappeared   just because.
I can't see a good reason for it.  I can't understand what good can possibly come from it. 
I hate it!

So what can I do?  What can I do but yell and cry and throw a few things?  What can I do but rage and cuss and moan?  What can I do but weep and feel lost and fall to my knees...press my forehead to the floor in despair...and do it all over again...and again...

But now...now I yell and cry and rage and weep and fall before You.  And You hear it.  You see it.  You feel it with me.  And I feel You.

It could have been hours or days or months...forehead and knees pressed to the floor.  Angry words, sad words, wordless moans falling at Your feet.   
But You never left me.  You emptied me of it all, collected every feeling and word and thought so nothing was left to poison me.  Until the only thing left was You and me...but mostly You.

And I love it.  I love all of it!
The feeling of everything You've been and will always be.  The feeling of everything You've worked in me, believed in me, entrusted to me, planned around me - here  living  breathing  growing   Just because You love me!
I don't need to find a good reason for it.  I don't need to understand what good will come of it...I just KNOW it will!

Because the only thing left is You!

you are

God and I have been writing love songs to each other these last couple of weeks (yes. it's THAT kind of post...so feel free to tune out if you wanna).  Let me tell you, He's waaay better than me! 
And, although I never thought I'd do this, (cause in the normal scheme of me I tend to usually giggle at other people's poetic writing, not in a mean way...well not usually in a mean way...more in a "wow! you sure have deep thoughts that I'll never understand." kinda way) I decided to share this...mostly for my wonderful friends who humor the many faces of me!

In the pinnacle and the abyss, in the torrent and the mist; You are.
In the silence and the shout, in boldness and in doubt; You are.
The fire that burns inside, my ever present guide; You are.
In the mother's lullaby, in the wounded heart's cry; You are.
In the shadow and the light, in the weakness and the fight; You are.
The glow of first love, the hope from above; You are.
In the desert and the rain, in the joy and in the pain; You are.
In the stillness and the rush, in love's tender touch; You are.
In the stranger's helping hand, in the faith to finally stand; You are.
So let my prayer always be
let there be less of me,  so when they look, all they'll see is who You are.

love is...

My beloved is mine and I am his.

When night comes we lay down together, wrap our arms around each other and press our foreheads tightly together.  In the quiet I whisper to him my dreams, my fears, my hopes, my love for him.  He whispers to me of his pride in me, his joy in my happiness, his dreams for me, his love for me.  I fall asleep held securely by him and dream sweet dreams.

When I wake in the morning his face is the first thing I see.  His smile shines brighter than the sun.  His words of love are my breath.

As I leave our quiet place and walk out the door into the world, he reminds me of my value, my worth, my preciousness.  He holds me tightly before I leave so that I know his love comes with me.

While I face the arrows, daggers and temptations of the world, his words remain, sweet whispers in my heart and mind.  His love is the standard that makes all else insignificant.  I wrap his love and his words to me tightly around my heart so that nothing else can claim it.

When I walk in the door he is there waiting for me.  He pulls me close and shuts the door, closing out the world.  It is insignificant in our quiet place.  He notices everything about be.  He knows my weariness.  He sees the hurts that have managed to reach me.  He tends to me carefully, his hands as gentle as his heart as he heals me.  All the while he reminds me of how great his love for me is,  how eternal and everlasting.  He banishes the hurts inflicted by the careless words of others and replaces them with his complete and unquestionable joy in being my beloved.  Under his steady and constant love nothing else stands. 

My heart is too captivated by him to wonder far.  I am complete only with him.  When I am with him my joy knows no bounds.  When I find myself far from him my heart grieves and cries out it's loss.  There is none that can compare, none that measure up, none that even come close.  I do not need to look for anything else.  He is my all.  He is my constant, my anchor, my shelter, my joy, my dream, my hope, my forever.

My Beloved is mine and I am His!

Why? Because I can...

So I'm doing this Month of Thanksgiving challenge and I gotta be honest...it's way to easy to sprout thankful sounding things.  I mean I know all the things I should be thankful for...so it's easy to be thankful for them.  And yet...I'm sure if I kept count...there would be way too many thing I complain about during the day.

So I thought, since today is Veterans Day, it would be a good time to be thankful for the things I have thanks to the service men and women who protect my daily countless, useless, priceless, meaningless and life-changing activities. Here goes....

     Today I ran a few miles on my treadmill. Why? Because I can. 

     Because I didn't have to run from bullets, or bombs, or people trying to hurt me. 

     Selfless people do that for me.

     Today I carried around 4 loads of laundry. Why?  Because I can. 

     Because I didn't have to carry around several pounds of equipment or weapons or wounded victims or friends. 

    Stronger people do that for me.

     Today I'm going to snuggle with my kids on the couch. Why?  Because I can.  Because I don't have

     to huddle with them in a dark corner somewhere hiding and keeping them quiet to be safe. 

Braver people protect me from that.

     Today I argued and yelled at my husband. Why? Because I can. 

Because I don't have to be afraid he has the right to beat me or stone me or kill me if I do something he doesn't like. 

 Honorable people uphold that right for me.

     Today I'll listen to and watch numerous people on tv, radio and internet.  Funny people, dumb people, angry people, smart people, ignorant people, black/white/hispanic/asian/native American people, people from both genders and those in between, people from every conceivable "lifestyle"out there.  Why?  Because I can. 

Because no one can tell me what to watch, listen to or believe.

     Generous people give me that.

     Someone's child died for me to have this life.  Someone's daddy or mama died for me to enjoy my rights.  Someone was willing to give up their treadmill run, their laundry, their kid's snuggle, their spouse, their time, their future...so I could have mine,unrestricted, unfettered and carefree.

Grateful?...we'd damn well better be!