You Can't Stomach It

I was quite content. I have been on the wagon of physical training and feeling pretty well about reigning down some discipline on my not so new shell. Loosing a bit of weight and feeling even more spry than normal. As I dusted the sand out of my eyes early Sunday morning readying myself for a day of toil I felt this strange sensation. I did, after all, go to bed feeling quite well. What happened? I felt this strange pinch in my right deltoid as if someone had come in the dark of the night and twisted multiple muscles into a nice, extremely tight braid of carnage. So maybe I overdid the exercise a bit- I am the one who smiles when things begin to hurt during exercise. The pain makes me feel human and reminds me of the cost one must pay to rise above the norm in life- I know call me a narcisist. This maybe is why I love racing triathlons. Finally, I got in for a deep tissue massage (I am hesitant to call it a massage when clearly it involved the complete destruction of my ligaments and muscles surrounding the ache or so it seemed). Much better... Then I caught my sons stomach and atomic diarrhea bug- WOW! Now that was carnage. I am recovering today. I made it to the pool this morning and didn't poo on myself so I think I am on the road to recovery.

In reality these minor stresses aren't even a drop in the boucket of the worries one can undergo. I count myself blessed. I think too often like having a spiritual stomach bug- I can't handle what God wishes me to grab ahold of. Spritually speaking- I have motion sickness and God won't stop moving. It is kind of like my son with butterflies- he loves them and wants to touch them so badly. When he gets close enough, the butterfly takes off and circles him. He is half smiling and half crying in tremendous fear and elation.

So I guess I am, in a spiritual sense, at Six Flags. I made it past the height requirements, ready to board the coaster. My stomach says "no freaking way, you can't stomach this!" and my hearts says "oh yeah bring it!" I am getting on baby and there ain't no stopping me. By the end of the ride I hope I have tears down my eyes, goose bumps on my arms, no sense of others perception of me, jacked up adrenaline, and a profound awareness that I have been right where I need to be. What a ride! What a freaking amazing ride!

It's a Lost Art

Determined to deliver a divine treat I attempted a series of parodies for our volunteers last night at their appreciation banquet. Although I aspire to be a "beat poet" of sorts I am far from grade A but I still gave it a try. I had a blast coming up with the words and preparing a true personal gift for them all. It is almost a lost art- the act of giving a gift that is personal, not bought, not manufactured but made and extended from one heart to another. It is a fine moment, no matter the quality of the creation, when one gives a gift like this. It has proven to be some of my finest hours ( not being egotistically vain in my thoughts about this but rather retrospectively aware). I wish I gave more of these gifts. They take time and well... often is a thing I am short on and then the excuses take hold, rationalization seeps in and soon enough I am off to some retail store to further advocate consumerism and the creative demise of humanity- geez sometimes conviction is so obtrusive to time management!

The gift of song, especially a parody song, about the experiences of others somehow let us all in on the often unspoken truth- we are all in this together. Shhh- don't tell anyone.

I serve in a church and without our volunteers I wouldn't/ couldn't do what we do. It is simply an impossibility for only me to care for so many. I feel the indebtedness and embrace the need while I try fend off my selfish pride and raise up our awesome volunteers. Humbleness is a full-time job- it is counter-human requiring us to step back and shine light on others. Honestly- I don't model it very well but I can say that I try really hard to do so. For this folks can at least give me an E for effort in the endeavor.

This world of ours is such a fragile balance changing with every action we make. Wouldn't it be motivating to realize the influence and impact every good act has on the world and others? When I get a glimpse of this in my life, I feel euphoric and invincible. Being a change agent is continually filled with attack and occasionally sprinkled with awe. I am grateful to at least be trying to make this place better. Today I will choose to live toward betterment, toward justice, and toward love- I will fail often, I will be distracted often, but I will try and it will make a difference. It is almost a lost art- giving a gift from the heart. You ought to try it.