Daring drops, steep ascensions, corkscrew turns...and all I wanted to ride was the lazy river. I remember thinking a few months ago that life had been peaceful. I was wary because in my experience peaceful periods have been followed by a variety of stress-makers, anything from annoyances to tragedies. Sometimes it has been a season of things that can break breaking, ordeals with health, with children, with work, and other times it has been one death after another.
"A click clacking my heart keeps making an ominous sound
That chain keeps dragging me up just to drop me back down
I think I'm over the hump enough to see the other side
That's when another thought of you runs through my mind" ~Eric Church
When I was a child my family vacationed in Montreal and went to the remnants of the Expo ’67 World’s Fair. (Boy, do I have stories about this vacation such as staying at a Lithuanian monastery instead of a hotel). On that trip my brother and I chose to take a turn on a seemingly exciting but we thought mild ride called “The Turbo.” Once we were strapped in and it started moving, it didn’t seem like such a terrific idea anymore. We were buckled – and I use that term loosely, like the buckles were – into an ovoid container with a cage like front. This was perched on a twisting arm which was connected to another twisting arm. The passenger vessel rotated, the arms rotated, and you, the silly person to get on this contraption, rotated up, down, sideways, over, in a diversity of motion that was enough to make you sick. Now that’s the point of most rides, right? To terrify you and make you feel ill but possibly exhilarated. However, this ride had a problem - the cage was not staying shut, the iron buckle bar was not holding us in. Every time it pitched us face forward to the ground from dizzying heights, it became more and more clear that we were about to die. We screamed, “Let us off! Let us off!” The maniacal carnie behind the controls smoked his cigarette and paid us no heed. Our parents demanded the ride by stopped. Nope. It continued. And continued. And continued. The sadistic operator probably enjoyed his power over two scared kids. Eventually, the ride ended – and with it any derring-do I may have had.
"Pain points his gun and I hold my hands up high
Off the edge I go
On this roller coaster ride" ~Eric Church
Oh, well. Today is a "Buck up, Buttercup" kind of day, in a buck up sort of week. I’ve walked my dogs and visited Pat’s grave daily. I filled out two tax forms where I had to check “single.” The first time I got all teary-eyed, the second time I handled it. I turned in my next-to-last assignments for my Master’s Degree and am finishing the benchmark – my degree is complete in 6 days with a 4.0 GPA. I scheduled my part of a field trip for my class, got my school logon, did some room organization, and some planning – and am so excited about meeting my students. I accepted a fitness instructor position at a really nice local gym – so for the next three Tuesday evenings I’ll be teaching a Power Yoga class and then in September I’ll have my own classes including a Kids Yoga class. I got my hair trimmed. I resigned as a substitute at most of my districts. I played with grandkids, read stories in a tent, and chased Pokémon with one daughter, shopped with another. I’m about to get busy on the “thank you” notes that are waiting to be written. Step by step, I’ve propelled myself forward...although I strongly suspect it has been God carrying me along.Job 17:9 says “The righteous keep moving forward, and those with clean hands become stronger and stronger.”