Weight of the World

For Joanne.

How can you run with the weight of the world on your shoulders? I tried. I can't. Working out in my recent history had gone from an endorphin boosting habit to drudgery and punishment. The good, kind trainer from the gym left town. This left the muscle-faced John (I don't think he smiles, just flexes his mouth) and dominatrix Tara in his place. So the normal workout friends left. Pat claimed knee pain. Michelle, a back out of whack. Karen, a very long trip. So it was down to me and the jocks. Johanna and Janna, the personal trainers. Jeff the owner of a martial arts studio. Karen the long-term student of Johanna. And that left me a full set behind everyone Thursday, doing push-ups alone with the class looking on while both mean trainers chanted for me to go faster, go lower. Everyone else got, "good job!" I slunk away from the gym in tears feeling every bit a 6th grade girl. Not fast, not muscular, not skinny.

I wanted to avoid running this morning, so I actually read my Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) notes. I usually skip this step, feeling it's like Cliff Notes that I don't need for enrichment (stop cringing Joanne). But there it was. "...we are not to fear or dread what secular persons fear and dread, for the Lord Himself is faithful is what He promised that He is the only one we are to fear and dread (Is 8:12-13). And then I ran. Without music, without goals, without seeing the disappointed faces of John or Tara, without the dire warnings from recruiters, without the cautionary tales of weak women failing out of officer school from my friend Kelly who's there now. I was lighter. I ran with my whole body instead of just trying to pound these weary legs into the ground. If I am faithful in training, God will be the Sovereign deciding my place in the world and in the Army. With this body. Without John's approval.

My mom left me a note this morning of a smiling kid flexing his skinny, muscle-less arms. Caption: They can take my lunch money. But they can never take my pride.

Ten Things my Mom Taught Me

1. Relationships are important.
2. Reading is a life-long joy and door to discovery.
3. Practice hospitality- "God gave us everything we have to share."
4. Be kind to people who have to serve you in their jobs. Make their job easier.
5. It is enough to be clean and neat. (Still working on this one).
6. How to cook.
7. Respect people from different backgrounds.
8. Celebrations are important. Birthdays, traditions, & holidays matter.
9. Be available to serve others.
10. Enjoy God.

This woman is the most patient person I know. I can say I've been taught but not entirely that I've learned. She's a lot to aspire to.

10 Things My Dad Taught Me

My friend Tea & Sympathy inspired me with her own list (thank you!), so here's the list of things I learned from my father, in his sayings where possible:
1. Listen and ask questions -"The wise old owl who sat in the oak. The more he heard, the less he spoke. The less he spoke, the most he heard. Now wasn't he a wise old bird."
2. Sleeping well is required for living well- "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise."
3. Be a person of action-- "Think you can, think you can't. Either way you're right."
4. Be financially conservative. Avoid debt, things you can't afford, anything that's show-offy.
5. Be generous. It's a greater joy to give than to receive. Gifts matter.
6. Pursue knowledge. I've been listening to NPR and watching PBS since infancy. Developing curiousity is as great an advantage as intelligence.
7. Work hard. This is a man who hitchhiked to college with just one suitcase in hand.
8. Find ways to not take credit. I have found my car washed, my directions written, items fixed without any announcement of intent or completion.
9. Think long-term. When the possibility of draft arose, he enlisted first and chose finance corps which paved the way for a business future.
10. Remember where you come from. You're not too good for used shoes, cheap meals, or sweat inducing work.

balance

I have come to the conclusion that I'm a whiny complainer who will never be happy. I spent the last year moaning about being alone. Now I'm continually belly aching over the fact that I never get time alone. Is there a just-right? A let's have dinner together, but I would like to forego anyone watching me make breakfast, turning on fundy radio or moving within my personal radius of 5 feet before 9:00 a.m.? This is only reasonable in my head until I try to make it words out of my mouth. Bad Princess!

And church. I attend singles groups and think most of the people there are weirdos. I judge them for requesting prayer for a 'relationship' that so far is only one actual date. For ugly clothes and the wearing of sadly inadequate bras. For the use of trite christianisms. But where are the normal people? MOPS. I shuffle back to my designated Weird Single corner.

Food. I'm on an odd diet where I've had to give up grains, sugar, dairy, corn, potatoes, & legumes. It's a little taste of purgatory this side of heaven. So I have my precious snacks I guard and get a little territorial when someone else wants my nut butter, sad sugarless pie, or coconut chunkies. I feel like a mean puppy guarding its yucky chew toys. Is it reasonable to live with people who share all with me and not want to hand over my paleo pancakes? In my Lord of Flies inner life, Yes. In the Purpose Driven Life house I actually live in I deserve a sugarless existence.

Will do better. Will try harder. And maybe I'll work my way into the next level of purgatory!