Pool Drains and the Great Race of Life

Warning: This one is a little random- see it through:-)

Wade sleeps soundly next to me, well pseudo-next to me, Boudreaux sprawled herself out across the bed leaving me with about a foot of viable sleeping space, and my mind is racing about things that need to be done to prepare for our trip.
While laying here, it occurred to me that it is the six month anniversary of my blog. In the beginning, I set out to be a little more positive, a little more consistent, and a little more faithful to the loving God we serve. How have I done? I may not be spot on where I'd like to be, but I'm definitely learning more about myself on this little journey of the at times four-letter-word known as life.

Of late, I have had to take a few weeks hiatus from running due to allergies and recurrent sinus infections. You know the little Mucinex germs on the commercials with the pointy-toed little boots? In my mind, every time I see those commercials, I take out my piece and eliminate them one by one as if they were tin cans on a fence post. It doesn't help. The little men with their tiny boots seem to have taken up permanent residence within my sinus cavities. I've taken two different rounds of antibiotics, nose sprays, daily allergy medication, OTC medications, and inhalers. No dice. This is going into the seventh week of this mayhem. I am resigned to keep on keeping on, just with lots of Kleenex and the cough of one who has chain smoked their entire life. I say that to say, my running has taken an unfortunate back seat. The wheezing makes it sound like two people are breathing when I run. I have to slowly build my lungs back up to par. Seems like a let down to think of how far I pushed myself to go, only to find myself slipping backwards. This parallels with the sermon our pastor spoke about on Sunday. He preached about relationships with God and how, as with any relationship, we get out of it what we put into it. There are 168 hours in a week, yet admittedly I find it difficult to squeeze in daily quiet time. However, is it really difficult to find the time? It's making the time to do it and prioritizing God as the center of life. At times, by all outward appearances, we depict the image of taking the straight path. But what's really in our hearts? What are we really doing with our inner being? Is it being cultivated just as our physical bodies need cultivating through exercise and healthy diet? It's a tricky question if you ask it to yourself. I can say in all honesty that my spiritual life could use a little pruning in the areas of my soul that have tarnished to make way for the renewal of goodness to produce.

As for my attitude adjustment, hence the title De-Funk New Year, it's an everyday work in progress. I have learned to take things in stride and have grown a lot from previous qualms. When I was a little girl, I wore nothing but dresses. In my true hard-headed fashion, I remember sliding down a snow slope in Colorado on a family vacation... in a dress. I had to have frozen my buns off, but I was too stubborn to listen to any parental reason that (duh) sliding down snow in a dress might not be so pleasant. I'm thinking my parents probably looked at each other with the look of- she's going to have to learn the hard way. I grew out of the dress phase, but never truly grew out of the 'I don't like things that are not human or pets to be in my home' phase. Example- while living in Austin, I had an infestation of fleas in my apartment. I had no pets or any reason for said invasion, and found myself behaving irrationally. My friend went with me at 11 o'clock in the evening to buy foggers which I proceeded to set off in my apartment shortly thereafter. Prior to the fog fiasco, I packed an overnight bag and barreled down 35 to my parents house two hours away. Slightly drastic and borderline neurotic? Probably so. Nonetheless, you understand my feud with unwanted creatures. I've become accustomed to such creatures. Proof: The other day, I found a tick. I smashed it as hard as I could, then ran it down the disposal. Maybe that was a little overzealous, but it's better than fogging the joint and having to camp out in the backyard overnight. Further proof- I found a mouse floating in Boudreaux's water bowl the other morning and I didn't even scream...that's not to say that you couldn't have passed a hurdle underneath my legs on account of I almost came out of my skin. Baby steps. The moral is this: God unfolds us in stages. He stays right with us, slowly molding us into the persons he would have us to be. Somedays, I feel are a total waste of make-up. Others allow me to see beauty within life. Sometimes beauty is disguised, and it's up to us to make the best with the hand we're dealt.

Now for the pool drain issue. In junior high, we had to swim laps during PE or cross country practice (I can't remember which). Having to change clothes for athletics is nerve-racking enough in itself, much less having to don a swimsuit in junior high. Unless you are the model type, there's a lot of self -consciousness to be had. I never was a strong swimmer. That coupled with my insane fear of pool drains if sure grounds for slight panic. I always did okay until I had to swim over the deep end. The deep end housed the evil pool drain. I have no idea where it came from or when the fear settled in, but I swam my arms off to get back to the wall. It's like the drain is a force field or something, waiting to suck me in at any moment. My sister-in-law, Becca, a keeper at Sea World, dives to check on everything at the various habitats. You know what they have in those areas? GIANT drains...sure to cause the need for me to breathe with a paper bag. Nonetheless, how can something so harmless take over my thoughts and make stressful one of America's greatest summer activities? As I lay in bed thinking about the drains, I thought of how that fear compares to starting a new year at a new school. It's quite similar. The fear of the unknown. Once I start to swim, I usually forget the drain, but never where it's located. I am sure once I start the year, I will forget about the fear and allow things to fall into place as His plan provides.

In this grand tour of the lives we lead, we must remember that we are who we choose to allow ourselves to be. Just like our garden, if we'd watered it more often and kept the weeds out, it would've produced more. Though we may be dealt setbacks and not feel as fulfilled as we desire, don't allow fear to overtake the happiness that lies within.

The Big D and Mae Day

My absence from writing has nothing to do with my desire not to write, but more to do with finding myself going through the big D- difficulty. Several things culminated over the weeks of summer and congealed in my mind around this very time. Today, I found myself overwrought with several emotions: homesickness, unsureness, and sickness (literally with the recurring sinus infection that shows up at my door with its bags packed to stay a while every month). It's one of those days that feels like a virtual hurricane churning inside the heart. As with any hurricane, the waters begin churning slowly, almost unbeknown to the effected. However, as time passes and more territory is crossed, the storm grows larger and stronger until eventually landfall is inevitable. Today marked landfall of this hurricane of the heart. I am slowly seeing things about myself in a different light. When we lived in San Angelo, I thought to myself at times, I wonder if this is where we will live for the rest of our lives? At the time, I was not certain if that were a good or bad thing. How I would have relished in the little nuances just a little more whole-heartedly, knowing now what I didn't know (or rather realize) then. In this life, nothing can replace family and friends. I longed for the comfort of family today. We were blessed with a wonderful weekend spent with friends, and as with every time someone puts the final bag in the car, bids a final farewell, and rides off into the caliche filmed sunset, I long for them to stay. I took for granted seeing my nieces and nephews being a short hop away, and having the opportunity to be involved in their every activity. I took for granted my in-laws being a few minutes across town and enjoying dinners and visiting at their house. I took for granted the beautiful runs at the KOA, and the friends we hold dear there. Reflecting back, can we afford to take the things we hold so precious for granted? I can't. I have a greater respect for the Lord through this revelation of the heart, and a greater respect for geography. Sometimes, I believe two people could be in the same room and be hundreds of miles apart. That said, I also believe that two people could be hundreds of miles apart, but in the same room in your heart.

Another contributing factor, tomorrow is Mae Day. On July 12, 1912, an amazing woman graced this world: Addie Mae Grossman, my grandmother. We celebrate this day each year by doing a few of her favorite things. I will start the day with a steaming cup of coffee. Then, get the Zebco ready with her tackle bag in hand, and head out in search of a big catch. It wouldn't be right not to end the day with a Sonic hamburger and shake. I vividly remember fishing at their place near San Saba, and spending vacations at Big Bend in the travel trailer. Nothing can replace those sweet, fond memories. I wonder if she knew as a girl what amazing things she would be known for in her lifetime? Did she know that she would leave such a legacy that will live on through her children and grandchildren? God could only have known what a difference she would make in my life. Many of my strengths may be attributed to her. She had unwavering strength and faith in God. As I sit writing this, I wish to be able to pick up the phone to hear her voice, the calm reassurance, the gentle touch of her kind hands. She would rub our chigger bites when we were little until we fell asleep. She would rub our hands while we prayed as we grew older. The impact she had on my life is undeniable. I am thankful to her for the amazing woman, grandmother, and follower of God that she was. Along the lines of taking things for granted, can we afford to say 'I'll call that person tomorrow?'. Procrastination simply must not be a word in our vocabulary when it comes to expressions, friendships, family, loved ones, and the important factors in life that really count. Tomorrow, I will celebrate the beautiful life of my grandmother, and hopefully reel in a big one in her honor.

In the end, this hurricane of the heart made landfall, and the residual effects are still being felt. There are occasional showers, some worse than others. But tonight, during the worst of the storm, I sat with Wade, explaining the best I could the cause of this conundrum. We had just watched an old Marilyn Monroe movie, 'How to Marry a Millionaire'. In this movie, she is blind as a bat, but refuses to wear her glasses on account of she thinks the men won't like her with them, and refers to her glasses as cheaters. In the middle of my mess, Wade said to me, "You sure look cute with your cheaters on," and sang a line from 'You Are so Beautiful to me' in an attempt to cheer me up. That's all I needed. Sometimes, I feel like life is like a test of the emergency broadcast system. God will reveal himself after testing, with the answers and a perfectly mapped out list of what to do. He will lead and I will follow. I should stamp that on my hand for times like these. It's a comfort to know I have the gentle support from the man I love to see me through my hurricanes. I know there will be others, in fact, isn't it hurricane season? However, I know I will never have to evacuate. I've got all the love I need, the hand of the Lord to slowly reveal His plan to me, and the angels of the ones I love so dear watching over me from above.