Even a little is something

I got a gym membership about 18 months ago. I used it faithfully until my children's taekwondo schedule changed and effectively killed my motivation.  I wasn't really seeing results anyway.  I spiraled downhill. About October, the thought of getting back into the gym started playing in my mind again.  In December, I did it.  I went.  And then I got sick.  Hooray because that took a week off of my plans and I was afraid I'd lose that motivation again.  I got well and went back.  I don't know that I had any real goals beyond something had to change and that something was me.

I'm the person who needs to see some results in order to keep going.  I was looking, trying on skirts, measuring...seemingly in vain.  But, one great morning, I put a skirt on fresh from the dryer and it was loose.

Then, I took measurements and saw just how much things had changed that I hadn't noticed really in the short time.  I put a skirt on Sunday morning that almost fell off.  I was disappointed only in that I had my heart set on wearing that one.

I'm sure that this is just a teaser and that I have a lot of work ahead of me, but I'll take anything I can get.

More of this and that

1. The chocolate lab feels she must sleep on something. Toys are good.  Shoes are good too.  I cannot figure this behavior out.  

2. The Voyage Out by Virginia Woolf was a two star reading.  She carries good description of scenery but reading her is like watching goldfish swim.  Nothing really happens.  I'd also compare it to people watching in the mall. You see some people go in to a store and catch part of their conversation.  Then you forget about them until they come out engaged in a different conversation.  Meanwhile, other bits of conversation have gone in and come out but nothing really forms an entire story.

3.  Great Expectations by Charles Dickens is far better.  You get the scenic descriptions but you also get the entire story.  Even Estella's story is finished out.  Of course, Dickins is a five star writer.  He shows you every sort of human being there is in only a few human beings.  You find characters that remain the same (static character.)  You also find the dynamic characters.  You find characters who live for vengeance.  You find those that live quietly with love.  

4. I got crafty and spray painted some wall sconces I had grown tired of.  I am no  longer tired of them.  They look beautiful and they suit the decor.  I'm so happy :D

Demi-gods among us

There are all around us little self-appointed demi-gods.  No one put them in that position; they assumed it alone.  Yet men and women stood by and said "amen" as the ascension took place.  Those who gave consent were immediately taken captive.  They would become the top-of-the-pile slaves who would chase down and convert other slaves.  The demi-god grows in power and in ego.  His empire is his alone and those who would tell him "no" are exiled.  

The exile is immediate and complete.  And it is painful for all of the other slaves will be told all manner of lies about that one so that they are convinced the one is bound for hell tomorrow and nothing can stop his progress.

That one who dares to stand against the demi-god is doomed.  

Really, the one who dares to stand is making a very hard choice.  He does not have to stand.  He could continue letting things go.  There are many who won't dare.  

Then, some day the demi-god erupts and every nasty bit that was buried inside him gets flung to the wind.  

Lucky Exile, for he extricated himself from the mess.

But we don't see him as lucky.  The man we pity is the one who is left to clean up the mess.  Why? It really is a mess of his own making because he didn't choose to say "no."  He chose safety over right.

Do not call the one left to clean up the mess a good man; that is not true.  That one left to clean it up is a mere coward who was as self-serving as his demi-god.  Instead of pitying the one left behind, pity the one who lost everything in an attempt to do right.  Call that Exile the good man.  

I've known Exiles.  They are quiet, unremarkable people.  But they are strong.  They are stronger than you would ever imagine.    

It's time to dump this ditty

"Chew the meat and spit out the bones" is a saying we get used to hearing in church about preaching.  

It's time to get rid of it and purify the preaching.  Why?

  Bones are for the dogs; the church is the Bride of Christ. How pleased Christ must be to know some man--under the guise of preaching--is throwing bones to His bride!

The Great Dearth

No, it's true. I've been AWOL as far as the blog goes.  Today can be a tidbit day.

We continued school through mid-July and in spite of my  best plans to go all summer, we had to stop for about 6 weeks.  Life simply gets busy from mid-July to late August.  We are back in the swing of things minus a couple of subjects since I still have books I need to get.

I ran through the gamut of emotions regarding putting Sarah in real kindergarten.  I had the anxiety, the guilt, the fear, the sadness of my baby being old enough to go to school--but in the end, putting her there is the best thing for her.  She qualifies for 90 minutes of  speech therapy a week and I would be cruel not to do everything in my power to get her there.  

Kindergarten.  Days 1 and  were awesome.  Day 3 was horribly terrible.  She didn't want to talk about it.  Except she did get to play in the gym for a little bit--but otherwise it was unspeakable torture.  She had to write.  Well, at first, she confided in her sisters that she had to do math but this morning I learned it wasn't the math.  It was the writing and writing is hard.  I consoled her by telling her that Lego engineers have to know this stuff if they want to design kits. 

I finally took the plunge and joined a gym.  This has been in the back of my mind for about 5 years.  Something continued to hold me back but I've taken the plunge and I know what was keeping me away-- three rules of my religion

Rule 1: If you can't do it modestly in a dress or culottes, then you should not do it.
Rule 2: Like mixed swimming, mixed exercise should be avoided because your exercise actions could cause a man to lust and that would be sinning against him.
Rule 3: You should never workout with a man who is not your husband or brother or father.  That might lead someone to think that you were doing something inappropriate.

Let's talk about these, shall we?

1. I am overweight.  I gained about 20 pounds last year alone.  Seriously.  I tried walking, but I'm struggling with vicious plantar fasciitis right now and walking leaves me wishing I could just amputate my foot.  If I want to lose weight, I really don't have a choice outside a gym.  I have to put that silly rule aside and just do it, as Nike would say.

2. I am NOT responsible for a man's thoughts any more than I am responsible for the weather.  I am not at the gym to pick up guys.  I have no interest in talking to anyone there beyond the trainers.  I have a goal to reach and that is between the Lord and me.  I'm dressed modestly for the gym.  I'm not in shorts and exercise bra. I have a nice pair of capris and a shirt.  The men have to deal with their own demons.

3.  My trainer is teaching me ways to reach my goal.  He is a teacher.  He shows me how to perform the exercise and corrects me when I'm wrong;  he provides an example, and if necessary adjusts the exercise to suit my state.  We exercise in the middle of the room where there are people all around watching and listening to us. 

I understand that those 3 rules are extremely silly but they were there.  They were deeply ingrained in me.  The fact that I could set the silliness aside is a huge step forward.  The fact that I can admit it is even bigger.  

There's a lot more, but I have to write a history test.  I will try to get back here a little more frequently now that school's back in.

Portland Traffic

I hate Portland area traffic.  I think my biggest issue is that no one knows how to merge.  Merging isn't rocket science and EVERYONE can do it well if they follow a couple of simple rules.

1.  If your lane is not the merging lane, be nice and make sure merging traffic has room to merge ahead of you. Then, hold your speed steady.   Don't be a jerk and speed up to close the gap.  That's just rude and you are not *that* important.

2.  If your lane is ending, for safety's sake, DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT!  Don't match the speed of the car you want to merge in front of.  Don't expect them to slow down or stop traffic for your bumbling incompetence.  Adjust your speed.  Adjust your speed.  Get in and don't slow down unless the vehicle in front of you is slowing...get in and match traffic.  Yes, that means you cannot dawdle about your day.  

What I'm saying, Portland, is learn to merge.  There won't be as many traffic backups because everyone will be playing nice.

Another thing I hate about Portland area traffic is this bad habit people have of driving like they've never seen sun the first sunny day after a long bout of rain.  The driving behavior is bad.  The converse is true, they drive as if they've never seen rain when it rains after a bout of dryness.

I swear that traffic here could be much better if we just learned to merge properly and we quit acting like the world was ending with weather changes. 

Something to say

It would be great if there were something to say.  If I--or anyone--could reach in and pull out something profound to suddenly make this tragedy make sense I would.  

Instead, every thought I have of the family is one full of profound grief.  It is a fist squeezing my heart emptying it of its life.  It's the thought of birthdays and loose teeth and bicycle rides and proms and graduations that will never happen.  It's the thought of a mom/grandma suddenly bereft of what she loved so much.  It is the thought of empty places at family gatherings.  

There is no sense in something like this.  

The world has gone mad.

Oh yes, I know Christ is there.  My heart cannot form the words for a prayer though.  It can only weep.