Faithful? Trusting? Belief? What do they mean?

God is faithful.  Do you know it?  Do you feel it?  Do you believe it?  If I take myself out of the equation, because I filter things, or maybe I should say I unknowingly allow Satan the invitation to filter my thoughts, then, and only then does it seemingly make sense to me.  God promises and He delivers, no ifs, ands or buts.  The problem is my thought processes are limited and therefore when things don’t get done the way I think they should be done, or in the time frame I believe to be sufficient, I am left in doubt.  Too often I believe we set ourselves up for failure.  We also set God up.  Do we pray for silly things as proof of God’s love and devotion to us?  Definition of silly things – winning a game (either ours or our favorite sport’s team), passing a test when we haven’t put in the work of studying for it, expecting to win the lottery and therefore not working to be financially sound, can you add to the list? 

God is faithful to me daily for all the little things I overlook each and every day.  I have my health, loved ones, a roof over my head, food to eat, and so much more.  I take these things for granted expecting more and yet, when I stop and think about all that I do have and then think of those less fortunate than I, I am ashamed.  God gives us life, not problem free life.  Problems are our way of growing in life.  On Sunday, I heard through Joel Osteen about palm tree strength.  In a storm, a palm tree bends over to a point where it might even touch the ground.  In this state somehow its roots are strengthened, whereas an Oak might just uproot and fall.  After the storm, the palm has “bounce back” technology built in, and when it stands upright, it is stronger than before.  Now, as we face our problems, don’t we also share in that bounce-back ability? 

So, if we are challenged with difficulties – lack of health, addictions, financial difficulties, chronic illnesses either ours or our loved ones, does that mean God is not faithful?  I think I have a difficult time grasping bad things happening to good people; as well as understanding that we go through seasons.  I think we get our minds wrapped around negativity and can’t see the forest for the trees in regard to our blessings.  Our eyes get stuck on the moment and we choose not to see the big picture. 

It takes more muscles to frown than to smile and yet, we actively pursue the frown workout when we choose to stay stuck in negativity.  Does it feel good in this place?  It doesn’t for me, and yet I stay rooted here.  Why? 

Because we follow the path of least resistance.  Is it better to stay in the known “hell” than try to move out into the unknown?  We may believe this to be true, because we already know how to adapt to what we are experiencing and we fear the unknown. 

Last story – a man was hiking on a mountainous trail admiring the view.  He came to a treacherous spot and had a choice to make, go the easy, longer way or take the shorter more difficult route.  The man was secure in his abilities almost to the point of egomania, so he chose the shorter way.  As he is hiking, his feet slip and he finds himself dangling from a tree limb with his grasp weakening.  His time is short and his attempts of pulling himself up are futile.  Out of the blue, he calls to God for help.  God answers him, but first asks him a question.  The question was “Do you trust me?”  The man feels his grip sliding, but the question annoys him?  “God, I need your help now!  Not a lecture!”  God replies “Well, if you trust me, let go.”  The man now is angry and says “if I let go, I’ll fall and die!  How can I trust you with that being your answer?”  God says once again to him, “If you trust me, let go.”  The man, begrudgingly acknowledges his trust in God, feeling he doesn’t have a choice and he lets go.  When he does, he drops 4 inches onto a ledge.  The man didn’t see the full picture in his dilemma, but God did and does for each of us!  Do you trust God or are you and I only confident in what we know and see? 

I’d love to know what the man thought after this – did he feel tricked by God or was he grateful?  What would you feel?  Do we only know God in difficult times?  In good times is there no God?  Final thought – God admittedly states that He is jealous for our attention.  If the only time we think of Him is in our problematic state, might He be keeping us there to keep us near Him?  Hmmmm…..thought provoking to say the least!

Attitude - a new one needed?

Do you know the story of Mary and Martha from the Bible?  Mary is the gentle, laid back woman who sits mesmerized at Jesus’ feet while her sister, Martha, complains about doing all the work in preparation for houseguests, namely Jesus and his entourage.  In Luke 10:39 and 40 paraphrased by me, Martha comes to Jesus and says “Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work?  Tell her to come and help me.”

As noted in the Woman’s Friendship devotional, Martha’s problem isn’t in her having to serve the meal, she is quite capable, no, her problem is in her attitude toward serving.  Further down in the reading, it suggests that she had a major attitude adjustment after her brother Lazarus died for 4 days, because once again, when she was serving a meal to Jesus, she didn’t stomp around her kitchen bemoaning her circumstances.  Death (even though her brother Lazarus’ death only lasted 4 days) had shown her what really matters.

At the end of the reading there is always a prayer and then a quotation.  I loved this one.  It goes “The higher and truer knowledge we have of the goodness and unselfishness of God, the less anxiety, and fuss, and wrestling, and agonizing, will there be in ones worship.”  Hannah Whitall Smith.

I can’t speak for anyone but myself, I admit to moaning and groaning when life seems too hard, or too unpleasant or when things don’t go the way I want them to.  As I mentioned yesterday, I am shedding my cocoon and in its shedding I will encounter trials.  And as the story goes about the butterfly, without the trials, I won’t get the caca off my wings to be able to learn to flap them and be able to fly.  Trials are to life as weights are to strength training, but at the core.  God is at the core, He gave us life, but we still are the ones who have to live it.

While I sit here typing this, knowing I need to gather up my stuff and head back from the beach to finish packing up the house for our subsequent move to the beach, I am dreading this endeavor, but to get to point C, I have to add points A and B.  There are no ifs, ands or buts.  Complaining about it only serves to make the task more difficult.

Dreading the task at hand doesn’t get it done.  I have said the serenity prayer 3 times today already!  “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Bruce is not coming back to life – I can’t change that and wouldn’t want to change it.  He is a treasure stored in heaven.  Selfishly I want him here with me, but to have seen heaven, there’s no way, I would want him to have to settle back into a world of pain and suffering, doubt and disappointment, sadness… I on the other hand, am still here and God is giving me the courage to step out and see the beauty that can exist amidst the heartaches described above.  Did you see the shift.  Heaven is perfect, our world is fallen, but with the right attitude, our world can and is beautiful. 

Am I fearful of changes? Absolutely, but I trust that God is leading me to a place of beauty.  Will it be perfect?  No, not until the day I die and enter heaven, but it can be pretty darn good, as long as I keep my attitude where it needs to be.  See, the thing is, my journey isn’t complete until God says so.  Could I have stayed where I was and ventured out beyond my home – sure, but I felt that God wanted me to take a different path.  Does it mean giving up the comfort of the “family” I have left?  Yes, but as I keep learning, painful trials are what makes you grow.  Without growth, there’s no life.  I have fulfilled my parental duties, we raised our children to the best of Bruce’s and my abilities.  Leaving them to stand on their own two feet (soon to be 6 feet per couple) isn’t as selfish as some try to make me think.  Rather, I hope to be showing them that life continues on.  That there can still be joy after sorrow.  That they too can not only cope, but survive and thrive on their own.

When health becomes an issue, the wagons circle for protection which is great.  But the pioneers of yesteryear, knew they had to keep moving on and as difficult as it was, they mourned and pulled up stakes and continued their trek to destinations unknown.  Without the brave doing so, would we have ever founded America, or California or any of the states in between?

We of aging parents or as the aging parent forget that as people we still have hopes and dreams and as long as we are physically able, we need to be able to live those dreams.  As children of aging parents, we wonder why they balk at our insistence to know what is best for them.  Really?  Didn’t they diaper us?  And while we may now be diapering in reverse, don’t think for a minute that they don’t cringe at the role reversal.  As a widow, I am grateful that my kids don’t look at me as being incapable, but many times that is the exact attitude that is adopted when a parent dies.

Attitude is the key to living life.  What does yours say about you?  Circumstances will be what they may, but we can choose our attitudes about the service we provide.

 

Looking up!

 

BArb

When I look in the mirror, what do I see OR What does my face say about me?

I just read an interesting tidbit about Thomas Jefferson.  At some point in his presidency he and his entourage were trying to cross a rain swollen river.  They looked for its narrowest point and were about to cross, when a man stood up at its banks and looked each man in the face.  Thomas Jefferson was near the end of the group and as he was about to cross, the man asked if he could ride with him.  Thomas Jefferson said yes, and the man hopped on behind him.  Once they had crossed, the man slid to the ground thanking TJ.  Another man, came up to him and asked him how he had dared to ask the President of the United States to take him across the river.  The man was appalled, and stated that he didn’t know that TJ was in fact the president and apologized profusely.  He then added that as he looked at each man, only Thomas Jefferson’s face/eyes said yes, all the others had a look of “NO” on their faces.

I was looking at a picture of myself taken shortly after Bruce had passed.  It was taken at Atlantic Beach, and I was a bit sunburned, but in delving deeper I noticed a “softness” in my expression.  Now, I know that as much as I would like this to be my everyday look, it isn’t.  But at that particular time, having had the most profound “worst” already happen to me (although I continued to be battered that year), I realized that the most important thing in life was about loving others regardless of anything and I do mean anything.  I was at that particular moment in a numb state or protective bubble, having been placed there by God.  There is no good way to describe that other than to say, I didn’t care about personality defects, bad attitudes, bad circumstances or any other negativity.  In retrospect, I was being comforted by the hand of God – although I will admit that I didn’t know it at the time.

As I am in the process of shedding my cocoon now, I am becoming aware that as I step back into life that I am once again “bothered” by what people say and do.  I again am becoming prideful and wanting things my way.  But here is the thing, now I am aware of it and even more profound is the fact that once aware of being blessed, to be heading back in this direction is NOT something I want to be doing.  The key to seeing is in the eyes and I don’t mean that to be a pun.

When one experiences a death of a loved one (or in my case several in the course of a year) one has a choice.  You can become bitter or better.  You can try with all your strength or whatever term you want to use to stay or regain control or you can become aware that none of life is really in our control and then relinquish that need to try to lay claim to it.  That is the softness you see in the eyes – the actual “giving up” and instead relishing peace.

Another interesting thing I read was about an atheist who was dying.  A hospice volunteer was trying to ascertain this woman’s stand with Christ.  She spoke and prayed with her daily, and finally the dying woman said that she was an atheist and had no interest in changing.  Later in her last days, this woman began hallucinating about being tormented by fire climbing up her legs. 

While these two very different readings might be a stretch to be tied together – the central theme in the message is about peace, beyond our understanding.  When we are unwavering in our desire to control or to put it another way, be the god of our own destiny we are claiming in a manner of speaking atheism.

Look in the mirror what do you see?  Do you see the glint of steel – the look of no one is going to “get” me?  Or do see the softness of acceptance and with it the peace of knowing that even though we may be undeserving, we are accepted and loved unconditionally!

 

Looking up!

Barb

I surrender or did I?

How do you know if you are convicted?

Last night at a woman’s Bible study I struggled with the right words to ask this question.  Interestingly, the right words popped out at me this morning, from commentary by Joyce Meyer.  She said, and I quote “I lived a defeated life for many years simply because I was not fully surrendered.  I accepted Jesus as Savior; I had enough Jesus to stay out of hell, but I had not accepted Him as my Lord in every detail of my life; I had not accepted enough of Him to walk in victory – and there is a difference.

These words showed me my lack of conviction.  Ouch! Ouch and ouch again.

What constitutes a defeated life?  Well, should I describe some of the attributes of mine?  Prideful, fearful, doubting, obsessing about control or lack of it, I can go on, but that ol’ prideful thing stands in the way!

The commentary also stated that any area of our lives that we hold separate from God, is an area where we cannot be filled with His Spirit.  Reworded – any area that we hold separate from God remains dark.  The specifics – “your time is His; your money is His; as are your gifts and talents, your family, your career, thoughts, attitudes and desires.  He wants to be involved in every area of your life; how you dress, the friends you choose, what you do for entertainment, what you eat….and so on.”

I realize that all of the above has been stated and restated.  I’ve read it over and over, but finally, the light bulb is coming on for me.  You see, as Joyce stated above, I believe I have enough Jesus in me to stay out of hell, but I’m not living in victory.  Victory should be feeling buoyant, not overwhelmed.  Joy should be expressed in your walk, your talk, your eyes but unfortunately for many, myself included, the problems of the day (I was going to say world, but I need to start smaller) show up in our posture, our gait and the deadness in our eyes.  As a photography student, I am especially drawn to my subject’s eyes. Do you see the sparkle knowing that they are engaged and you can look into their souls?  Or do people’s eyes seem flat, disconnected?

So, I asked, how do you fully surrender?  I don’t think my problem is that I haven’t tried, it is more that I find myself giving but taking it back.  I have definitely come to understand surrendering control in some aspects, you can’t lose loved ones and not comprehend the loss of control you feel.  I can even say at this point after 17 months, that I am at peace knowing that I have added 3 more souls to my treasures in heaven.  Surrendering to acceptance of that is huge!  But I think my question of surrender is deeper than that!  How does one agree to open their hands to what hasn’t yet taken place?  God gives us the choice of free will, and He gives us a mind and somehow Satan gets into the mix and we become hoarders of the imagination, ie – The What Ifs, the saving for a rainy day, the you better plan ahead mentality.  And all these put the dependence on me, myself and I, rather than in trusting that God is the sole provider of everything in our lives!

This is the stuff I’m talking about, the non-victorious way of life that confounds me daily.  The advice given, talk to God.  Read His word.  Surround yourself with others doing the same thing.  Good advice!  God says that in our weakness, He is strong.  I thought I was doing all that!  The problem is that I’m too busy to listen, to settle myself to hear what is being said!  Anyone?  My coffee cup says around its rim “Peace, be still” does anyone see the oxymoron in that?  Caffeine and be still just shouldn’t even be in the same sentence!

Finally, at the end of the commentary Joyce states “Complete surrender to God brings good change into our lives.  Surrendering to Him actually opens the door to the things we desire, and yet we waste our time and energy trying to obtain access to them in our own way.”

I pray that God reaches into all of our hearts and allows us each to have the eyes of our hearts opened in such a way, that we become convicted of the need to surrender, once and for all, those things we keep hidden.  “For Jesus said to the people, “I am the Light of the world, if you CHOOSE to follow me, you won’t be stumbling in darkness, for you will have the light of life.”

Now, I wait in hopeful expectancy, that from my heart to His, He will see my desire to surrender all, once and for all and that I will be allowed to walk in victory and joy!

Looking up!

The Chains that Bind us

I just purchased a new devotional in the last few days and today’s reading left me in awe.  The biblical contribution was from 2 Timothy1 v. 16 and it detailed the tale of a friendship.  “May the Lord show mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, because he often refreshed me and was not afraid of my chains.”

I stand (ok, I’m sitting) before all, and say that I am guilty, guilty because I use to be one and on occasion am still one who is afraid of guilt by association, of those who differ from me.  I have, although I ask God daily to show me the way out of the judgment seat I sometimes find myself in, held others to a standard of my own choosing, rather than let them be the masterpiece of the Creator. 

The more I live, the more I better grasp that no one is exactly like another.  And it is in each individual’s uniqueness that I find myself able to learn the value of life.  Losing 4 significant people who helped to shape me into the person I am, leaves an impression.  The loss of even just one life, if it is allowed, can change you to being more sensitive to those around you.  Sometimes we hold too tight to what we have or have had, to be able to get through the day....I get that, but in the grasp or grip of terror, that something else might be forever taken away, what are we not able to accept because our hand is fisted?  Life is fluid, not stagnant.  I know only too well, the desire to go back to what once was, but you see, I can't and while that makes me sad, being held captive to what was, only serves to keep me despondent.  We all question situations, but we must be careful that we not paint ourselves into a corner with no way out.  And yes, I am aware that it works both ways, but ultimately the decisions we make are our own.

I’ve recently been watching Downton Abbey.  In season 3, the housemaid Ethel becomes a prostitute after being rejected for having had a bastard son with an army officer, who was only too willing until consequences played out.  The “cook” from the neighboring household refuses to stay in the employment of the lady of the house because she doesn’t want to tarnish her reputation, whereby the lady of the house, bids her good day, sticking up for the young mother, (who has left the profession trying to get her life back in order) in the manner much like that stated in 2 Timothy 1 v.16.  The young mother is getting a second chance, but the cook, stands in judgment believing she is in the right and thinking the Lady of the house will side with her.  Surprised?  Why?  Didn't Jesus do the same thing with Mary Magdalene?  If He forgives, what right do we have NOT to?  He has forgiven us...time and time again.  I'm beyond grateful!

Whether we know it or not, we are all bound by chains.  We may just happen to think our chains are more respectable than someone else’s and I’m sorry to say, that is only true in our own eyes.  I am not some holier than thou person, but I have had my eyes opened to the plight of discrimination that has nothing to do with any of the usual contexts (color, age, sex).  Discrimination of any flavor is not becoming and then I find in my saying that, I become guilty yet again for my own judging attitude!  Filters can and do change the picture.

Lord, my prayer is that we each learn to accept and appreciate the masterpieces of humanity that you have created.  Let the troubled find their way to you.  Let the Jesus in me, learn to respect the Jesus in them, because when we do not allow it, we are saying that we have the right to judge another’s character, without knowing all that has gone into its shaping. 

Lord, I offer myself to thee, to build with me and do with me as thy wilt.  Release me from the bondage of self, so that I may better do THY will.  Take away my difficulties so that they may bear witness to those I would help of Thy love, Thy power and Thy way of life!  May I do Thy will always!

 

Looking up!

Barb

Grief month 11

Trifecta – did I spell it right on first try?  I believe this is a horse racing term to mean placing a bet of three varying situations.  Well, I’m know I’m not the only one, but this past year is close to being a trifecta of loss.  I don’t mean to make this sound so pathetic, for it is what it is and in the end, I am truly happy for those who have the opportunity to move onto God’s heavenly realm; but for those of us left behind, I can only say that the mystery of numbness is quite profound.

Life at this point is a whirling dervish, things happen all around you and God comforts you with His Grace and as is stated a peace that defies understanding and whether it be one or more losses, I can honestly say that it is like being in a protective bubble.  The protection afforded isn’t so much that life and its circumstances stop, but the lossee, and in this case me, walks a path of awareness but not of absorption.  Have you seen the OFF clip-on commercial?  The one where once you clip the OFF to your belt, the shield goes up and the mosquitos dive and then crash into it, never getting the opportunity to use you as their food source?

I am coming upon the year anniversary of hugging my husband into God’s heaven.  Five months later via the phone I wished my Dad a joyful journey into peace.  Now six months later, we are trying to pry my Mom’s fingers from this life to let her grasp the hand of God.  All this while trying to navigate the sale of our childhood home and our lives as we use to know them.  The key is not to try to understand this, but to accept the peace of God as He administers it to you and He does, IF you are open to it.  This seems simple enough, but let me assure you, it is anything but.  The enemy laughs at your vulnerability and is anything but kind when he searches and destroys you through guilt, and remorse.

Death changes you.  You feel regret for time lost.  The things you deemed important are not so important.  REALLY!  It is unfortunate that we spent so much time trying to grab the brass ring instead of seizing the golden moments!  Once the moment has passed, it is gone.  No, I’m not trying to depress anyone and if that is what you are taking from this, I’m truly sorry.  The point I am trying to get across is that God has fashioned miracles every day for us to seek and find.  Like the word search though, they are not always obvious, one has to look.  In the bubble, you understand this from a perspective differing from others, but understanding it does not always afford you the wherewithal to be able to achieve this.

What I miss the most is time.  Time well spent.  For sixteen years I was blessed to have been able to work every day with my husband, in a business that he was passionate about.  There were simple pleasures of watching him in his element, creating beauty for others in their homes.  For many, they wondered how it was possible for us to work together day in and day out, many stating that they don’t believe they would have ever been able to do so.  I miss this daily-ness.  Death is not singularly missing one aspect, but instead an incomprehensible set of aspects (spouse, friend, confidante, caregiver, utility person, financial advisor, lawn maintenance, hugger, support giver, life sustainer, comic relief, the person that knows you best where words don’t have to be spoken, etc. etc.etc.) all rolled up in one and this is just in one scenario specific to me with Bruce.  Six years ago, when his sister, Nancy, who was my best friend died, I lost different aspects. 

I know that as time passes, the ache of loneliness I endure will change. No, it won’t go away, but it will change in its nature.  I know that God has a plan for me, one that I keep trying to make sense of and am probably limiting Him because of my refusal to let go and let Him work His way through me.  Some say time “heals” all wounds, but just as Paul asked God to remove the “thorn” from his side, God instead said, “No, My Grace is sufficient for you,” I too with time, will be better able to bear the scars of love.

Love is the key to living a rewarding life.  We want our way, but love doesn’t gets its way.  I just re-read 1 Corinthians v13 4:8.  These words so often spoken at weddings are so simple they seem overlooked.  “Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails.”

Wouldn’t we all like our scorecards to read with a resounding yes to all of that written above.  I know I wish(ed) mine would have!  I can only go forward from today and try to live this way…ONE DAY at a TIME.

Looking….

Barb

13.1 BABY WooHoo!

Well, I did it!  I am now the proud owner of a 13.1 sticker on my car.  If there ever was a poster child for how NOT to train for a half-marathon, I would have to say I would be in the running.  Pun intended.  I don’t even know where to begin with the description of my barely there training!  This was not an endeavor that was a spur of the moment idea although at different points in the run, it certainly felt like I had spurs where they weren’t supposed to be and it wasn’t anywhere where a “glide” stick was supposed to go!

My friend Sharon hails from Louisville, Kentucky and it was her brilliant idea to sign up for this mini.  I’m not chastising her for this, we had certainly talked enough about wanting to do a half, no, it’s more that once you say you are going to do something, it is definitely going to get done!  No backing out, again, pun intended.

First of all, training, I thought, was going to be done together, but no, she up and gets a job an hour and a half away.  So, there goes the accountability factor.  But knowing I’m about to die if I don’t train, keeps me semi-motivated.  Semi because if it was cold, or dark or rainy or I was tired or any other excuse I could come up with, I took it!

Then there is the whole, eat clean regimen.  I don’t think I quite understood what that meant, because I carb-loaded the 13 weeks prior to the race, the entire time!  Not to mention the M&Ms that kept showing up in my pantry and the ice cream in my freezer.  I hadn’t eaten dessert in such a long time and now I can’t imagine a night without my MOOSETRACKs.  Again, pun intended!

Ok, enough already with the puns.  Race weekend was a blast.  We travelled to Indiana first to spend some time with Sharon’s sister.  What did we do?  We went to see Menopause the Musical and laughed our butts off and then the next morning, we went to the gym for a 20 minute workout on the treadmills.  All along the way, my cohort keeps telling me we are going to run this thing together and at my pace, which is the equivalent to some people’s walk speed.  We no sooner get on the treadmills and she starts with let’s quicken our pace!  Oh boy, I’m in trouble now, keeps flashing in neon colors in my brain!

That night, we head to Kentucky, my first trip there and I get to meet the rest of Sharon’s family, All of whom are GREAT people.  Sharon and I first stop by to do the packet pick-up and in Derby like fashion, I find I’m starting in Corral H.  One sister-in-law is in like Corral C, a nephew in D and the rest of the family runners in F.  The corrals were grouped by the time you thought you’d finish in.  Yeah, well, I immediately went from H to F, which again states the speed at which said cohort was capable of running – with even less training than me!  Seriously!

Race day dawns.  Now, I’m going to be a bit upfront about behinds here.  Running is a laxative for me, plain and simple.  No not relaxing, the other kind.  So 4 am dawns and Sharon is getting me up to get me going by taking me for a mile walk.  Performance anxiety hits and the only thing moving on me are my legs.  We get to the race site, nada!

About a mile or so into the race, I’m starting to scan the horizon for a place, but at least I have company in that someone else has the bladder the size of a pea.  Well, the port-o-potties, to be called POPS in the future, have a mile long wait and that ain’t happening.  When you’ve gotta go, it’s NOW.  So, a bit further down the road is a convenience store, and we duck in there and begin a 10 minute wait.  Well, some things can’t be rushed, if you know what I mean, so we begin yet again on the trek to mile 13.1.  Suffice it to say, that I felt like a dog marking its territory with all the POP stops we made, 5 I believe is the number I was told, I gave up counting!  Next time I will try Imodium.  By the way, if the Depends people want to start working on a new product…the existing product would chafe too much!

Once done the half, the clock said 3 hours and 30 some odd minutes, but that doesn’t reflect that our corral was loosed about 15 minutes after the A group…so we found out it was really 3:16 – hmmm….how appropriate, since “God so loved the world…”  We went looking for the rest of the family who finished quite well.  Teresa in Corral early, finished in 1 hour and 55 minutes.  Nephew J finished in 2 hours 12 minutes.  Brothers B and R finished respectively in 2:38 and 2:40.  Cohort S, didn’t even break a sweat and was hooting and hollering the whole time.  Doesn’t it make you upset when someone is smiling while you are cringing!  LOL!

At this point, now that we are finished, I’m looking for food and along the way, I grab a beer???  Not a normal habit for me at 10:30 am. And we head for her brother’s hot tub, again, didn’t I say I was the poster child for what NOT to do!  In fairness, I didn’t learn that until the next day, when I was reading about how to recoup from a marathon.  Anyway, I digress, I’ve changed into my bathing suit and am proceeding to step into the hot tub, but the step is a bit further down than normal and a bit slippery, so I kerplunk into the tub – spread eagle facing Sharon and her dad!  Ok, laugh, because I am.  I am only hopeful that the top of my suit didn’t go all caliwhompass.  I do know that Sharon’s Dad went inside for a bit afterwards.  Shock value???

Later that afternoon, we wind up back at the homestead and for the most part, sit and eat and enjoy one another’s company, although we were a bit subdued due to tiredness.

Sunday morning arrives and we have an early flight.  Not as early as the one we left to come here on, which was scheduled for 6 am, and we left the house at 4:30 only to find we were delayed an hour and a half!  No, this flight is on time, but my body is not working, meaning my legs and left Achilles don’t want to bend.  The moving sidewalk in Cleveland’s airport isn’t moving and neither are the escalators which for some unknown reason we decide to walk up instead of the steps.  The escalator steps are higher than normal and the climb was like Mt. Everest.  When one walks on the moving sidewalk, you stay on the right if you are going to stand.  Well apparently my carryon was too wide, so I had to keep moving because of all the numbskulls that followed us onto the non-moving escalator.  At this point I’m laughing so hard, I can’t even walk, so Sharon is pushing me from behind and I’m out of breath!  Did I say I use an inhaler to run?  Some chronic cough I’ve had since I’ve stop teaching???  Well, I literally am huffing and puffing up these steps, you would never have known we had completed a half-marathon.

So ends the tail, whoops the tale.  Just thought I’d share, anyone want to join us next year?  I will be letting Sharon go, to run her own race, so I’m looking for someone else to torment!  Any takers?

PS - My Wii Fit console just told me I'm overweight and unbalanced!  Nice to be home and insulted once again!

 

Looking up!  Maybe it should be looking ahead!

Barb