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.”
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