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.