"3 Cent Blessings" or "I'MNOTPMSINGNOWGETOFFMYBACKANDUNDERSTANDTHATIAMJUSTKINDAPRAYINGGEEZANDWHILEYOURATITGETSOMEICECREAMONYOURWAYHOME!"

I admit it.  I have been pretty emotional lately.  I would be easy to go into default, blaming PMS, but I have never really been impacted emotionally by my menstrual cycle.  Perhaps because I have recently started exercising seriously for the first time since 4th grade, maybe my body is just reacting differently than I am used to. The human body does do strange things.  And then, maybe it's the new relationship-thing in my life: that coupled with the impending September move could be causing the wider and more rapidly changing slew of emotions.

But, I'm pretty sure it's answered prayer.  This year, during Lent, I have given up alcohol (as usual), and started exercising (for a half marathon, and also for a new years resolution; Easter is kind of like
Christian New Years). But as an added discipline (and I need that word, discipline, applied very loosely) I have also renewed a prayer that I forgot I was no longer praying.  It usually goes something like this:

"Father, let me taste and see your goodness.  Open my eyes to all your beauty in the small things.  Let that be my daily bread."

It always seems to be answered too. (Like with the LSD/Holy Spirit incident assisted by Henri Nouwen about this time last year.  See my post about being afflicted by thigmorphilla.)


I had a good friend who was praying the same thing with how he lived his life. We would often end a day talking about all those little surprise revelations, usually over "pint-sized" blessings.  I guess, we would in a way RE'count our blessings', without the cognitive tally.    These conversations were a type of praise, of worship.

My friend moved away, and has ceased to be a daily reminder for me to continue this practice.  I guess I just forgot to pray.  I miss that type of worship, especially when lately, my prayers of relying on God look more and more like a stress relief wish list.  Yesterday, I also saw a friend from back home Chicago had updated his facebook status to "I can think of nothing good, except submitting two scholarships, that happened today."  That made me so sad.

So, in an effort to begin again, as I often do, here is an inexhaustive list of the small blessings from the beginning of to today, waking until getting to work. 

- There was sunshine outside my curtains when I woke up.


- I went for the teapot, and there was already enough water left from the roomies for my oatmeal.


- On my way out I realize that I needed 3 cents more for coffee.  I keep change in a big 5Gal. water jug, that is hard to get change out of once it is in (that's the point).  I found 3 cents in the first alternative place I looked.

- When I walked out my front door, there was a sunshine immediately on my face and an unidentified child walking up the stairs. The first person I talked to/greeted this morning was a child.

- My Deli Guys had my coffee ready (small, no sugar, little bit of milk, napkin please) and I got to skip the line of high school students ordering sandwiches.

- I got a new monthly Metro card at work yesterday, because someone else was grabbing one, not knowing that this morning my current one was not going to have expired.

- The line in the Khrusty Brothers song Every Time A Lie song came on the headphones. "So I was sipping on my whiskey in Kentucky-town, where the top-shelf burboun is a Jim Beam brown", reminding me of my wanderlust, and the beauty in the commonplace and average of most of America, even if it is about liquor at 8:30 in the morning.

- I got a seat on the train while still in Brooklyn.

- There was an article on the NYTimes iPhone app.  called "JFK Condolence Letters Published for 1st Time".  It's about a new book complied of letters Americans write to Jackie after JFK's assassination.  After reading,  I was thinking about human connections, and that what creates the most intense connection (between non-lovers, and even then, maybe lovers, I wouldn't know) is sharing our
purest, most singular revelations. Which all led me to thinking about my pure, singular revelations.  Which reminded me of my forgotten prayer, and led me to sharing this morning.

- Mike bought my Americano for me this morning.


Blessings!

"The Damn Marathon" or "Why I will look like a Twin in 40 days."

I recently made a really terrible decision. It's a good terrible decision, but I still face the consequences with trepidation and dread.

That's right, I decided to run the NYC half marathon on April 3.  It happened a few weeks ago when I walked into a staff meeting late, frustrated, of course, after having spent the past hour looking for parking.  I sat down and about two seconds later was told the entire staff (with one hold out) had decided to run/run-walk/walk the half marathon for Haiti Relief on April 3rd.  It took me a few days to agree to do it, but I did eventually agree, "Yes, I will run a half marathon for this good cause."  "Yes, I will do the sport I hate more than almost any other, because it is for a good cause."  "Yes, I will train nearly every day between now and then, meaning I will have to spend time at the gym, a place I hate more than almost any other, because this is all for a good cause."

Of course, by now, only three of the staff are still planning on doing it.  One down-graded to walking the whole thing because of shin splints (Which by the way are undiagnosed by a professional and I still don't necessarily believe yet).  The other probably shouldn't quite "run".  Which means that I am the only one on staff capable of actually doing this as a more than a symbolic gesture (which is what it is for me anyway).  Well, crap.

If you have heard me talk about all of this over that past few weeks, you may have heard me refer to it as "The Dumb Marathon Thing", "The Damn Race", or "Bad Choice Twenty-Ten".  My attitude has been quite unsportsman like, which is probably because I have never been much of a sportsman.  Physical activity for the sake of physical activity is unenjoyable for me.   Throw some nerdy nature or geocaching in there for hiking, or the transpiration benefits of biking and I am a tad more willing to get off my butt, but I just get bored so fast.  Enter the most boring sport there is, running, which I have been known to proclaim does not make any sense unless there is someone or something bigger than you following closely behind with malicious intent.

Ok, so despite the negative tone of all this.  I still stand in agreement, "Yes, I will run a half marathon for this good cause."

And you know why?  Because it's good for me.  I am running to raise money for Haiti, but I also running for a very very selfish reason.  My body needs it.  And this whole I-Hate-Running thing is a mental battle with some serious spiritual implications.  Not even starting into body image issues, I (along with most believing Americans) have been pushing the truth of certain scriptures aside for decades.  I know God knows the treadmill is a very mental battle for me, and through His knowledge of that, it becomes intensely spiritual as well.  I should seek God's grace and mercy in this battle just as all others, sacrificing my will, and asking the Lord to take over.

Here's a few verses I have been muddling on.
(If you don't like reading the bible stuff scroll down to "Here's your part.")

Romans 12:1-2
I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

In college (and all the other hormone-charged faith communities I have been in) pastors love to preach on Romans 12:1-2 as a passage about abstinence and celibacy.  That's fine and dandy, but I don't think they go far enough.  Paul doesn't say.  "Don't screw everything that walks, okay?"  He says our bodies are to be living sacrifices.  We are to give up our bodies to God for his use, holy and pleasing, and that is our "spiritual worship".  Paul says, "do not be conformed to this world", which is what I have been allowing to happen in this department for a long time.  Certainly many people fall on the other side of the line; body becomes the God, not the Temple of the God (Holy Spirit), but by and large (no pun intended) fat, pudgy, lazy Americans, i.e. "this world", are not presenting their body's as living sacrifices.
Maybe lazy is the wrong word.  Some westerns are genuinely lazy, living up to the steak dinner, golf, video game, McDonald's stereotypes, but most are just busy.  Even those with the most noble intentions are too busy dealing with important things like social justice, environmental lobbying, and educating underprivileged school children, to deal with basic body maintenance.  It is easy to push aside crunches when otherwise you could be spending the time writing a grant that might feed 100 starving children for a year.  In cases of not-so-obviously-philanthropic jobs, the mental battle is not much easier.  But the Lord genuinely cares about the state of our flesh and what we do with it.  He redeems the whole body, not just our brains.  I know people are going to be pissed to hear it but I firmly believe we are ignoring a huge command of scripture to say "to-hell-with-it",and grabbing McDonald's just because we are running late to church.  Maybe He likes twinkles, I don't know, but I am going to go out on a limb and posit that He might like an apple more.


1 Corinthians 6:19-20 
Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.

This flesh and bone is a gift!  Bought!  And then given back to us to maintain as a dwelling place of the Holy Lord.  Try not to treat it like a ugly sweater from Aunt Maude, stuffed in the back of a closet, brought out once a year when you absolutely have to wear it (read: when you have to run a marathon).  It's a good gift!  A super extravagant, expensive one too.


1 Corinthians 3:16-17 
Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple.

This one is the most difficult for me to read as an average, slightly soft, American woman.  I am God's temple and His Spirit dwells in me (ok, I am with you here.)  If anyone destroys the temple, (my body, from the passage above), God will destroy him.
Shoot.  I am the one destroying my body.  So what follows is that God is probably not too happy with that.  There are a lot of ways a building can go about getting itself condemned.  One could be an earthquake, suddenly unfit for habitation.  Another could be total abandonment, left to the elements.  But most often it is "failure of maintenance" stories we hear that are the most heart breaking.  People being evicted, because someone has let a leak go on in the basement for 15 years.  No one removed the lead paint.  The elevator broke with the door to the shaft open and no one bothered to fix it.  Neglect.  I have been neglecting my body for so many years now, that it is hard to even know where to begin.

So here's where I will begin.  For Lent this year, conveniently lined up with the Half Marathon being the day before Easter on Holy Saturday, I am going to give up complaining about all this exercise stuff.  That means no saying "I don't wanna!" (at least not in a whiney voice).  That means no more referring to it as "The Damn Marathon".  It also probably means that I can't put a picture of Bethany Klein, Ankle-Sprainee and/or a quadriplegic in my gym bag to remind me that there are people who would like to run "The Damn Marathon" but cannot.  Oh, and I am giving up alcohol too, because I tried running after a pint and lunch at the bar, and it just doesn't work.


Here's your part.  Give to Haiti, and give to me being healthier.  Whichever you feel more passionate about, you can give in the same place.

Please consider giving to Haiti through my World Vision fund set up here: http://twv.convio.net/site/TR/TeamWorldVision/General?px=1069501&pg=personal&fr_id=1090
I have set a very modest goal.  Admin costs for the race were $55. The World Vision Team jersey is another $30.  I also had to buy shoes for about $100.  I want to raise at least enough to make up for the money I have spent on this.  Other wise, I probably should have just given $185 to World Vision and been done with it (hence the its-also-for-me mentality).  Please consider donating with one of these amounts in mind.

Whoever gives the most gets to dictate what type and take a jar from the next batch of jam I make.  Or I will crochet you a squirrel or chipmunk pelt.  Your choice.

 

Also, if you want to give more, and to a more worthy team running the same race, give to these guys.

They are m' boyz, I love them all.
http://twv.convio.net/site/TR/TeamWorldVision/General?px=1064303&pg=personal&fr_id=1090


This race was originally set up for funds for Africa, so if you see information saying that all your money is going to Africa, not Haiti, the webmaster just hasn't caught up yet.  I assure you there has been an earthquake in Haiti.

Thanks, I love you all.


I will close with this thank you gift.  A list of the funny things that have gone through my head to keep me from running that I will not be allowed to repeat after Wednesday.

@ 11:53 pm: Kate, I can't run tomorrow at 6:00am.  All I have at home are clogs and pajama pants.


I shouldn't run because right now my silhouette has a nice ripple effect.  It's a graduated change in width from my waist to hips.  If I loose that padding then I will go straight from waist to hips and it will be more obvious how huge my hips really are.


Why would I do something that makes my calves even bigger?  They are the one part of my body that is naturally muscular.  If I do this race then my calves are going to look like Arnold Schwartznegger's in those shorts in Twins.

I will have to snack more.  (Okay, this on can also fall into the "Pro-Marathon" category.)


I must look so disgruntled and unhappy when I am at the gym.  Everyone always asks me questions thinking I am an employee.  No, I don't know where the sauna is.  There's a sauna?



Follow my Twitter for almost daily "Lessons from the Gym".

If you lucky, there also might be one posted right now on the top right of this blog page!

"Bacon!" or "Take & eat; do this in remembrance of Me."

Warning: This is not a kosher post. Literally.

I am a believer in little graces. I think we get little gifts each day, designed especially for us. Spotting them is just a matter of perspective and awareness.

For example, when I go down to the subway to catch a train and it pulls up just after I reach the platform, I like to thank God for that little gift. I remember to do this a lot more in the middle of winter or summer. It's not that I think the trains/ world revolve around me, but rather than feel lucky, I feel thankful.

You may wonder what goes through my mind then when I am stuck with terrible 2 train traffic or construction on the weekend, waiting on a platform for 30 minutes in the freezing cold, at 2am, with a shady fellow pacing 30 yards away. Instead of wondering what I did wrong to deserve this though, I remember that a punishment is not the opposite of a gift. It wouldn't be so special if the train always showed up just as I did, when I had done something particularly nice or moral.

There is no equation for grace. Grace is the inexplicable part of sanctification, little graces included.

I received a special little gift today in church. But first, some background knowledge.

May I present the example of a miraculous scent of roses. For those who don't know, there are many Christians who believe there have been Marian Apparitions, visits from the Blessed Mother, even in the past 50 years. These are usually to children to deliver a warning for peace and the exultation to pray to the Lord for peace. Sights where this has happened often become destinations for religious pilgrims. One of the most often reported experiences by these pilgrims worldwide is an inexplicable smell of roses, Mary's dedicated flower. On person may smell them and the person next to them will not. (In her 70's my Grandmother visited a sight in Bosnia-Hercegovina called Medjugorje, and returned a claimant of the rose scent.) I don't say this to agree or disagree doctrinally, but to give the example of a small grace. Even if it turns out that the woman who wears rose perfume and sits near an air duct in the next building is to blame for the rose scent, it is still a small grace. I think God must use things in the world to talk to us, even when we can explain them. Probably more frequently, even, when we can explain them. He's not sitting in heaven racking his brain trying to find ways to convince people to believe in Him by inventing something that cannot be explained away by science or circumstance; I would think God doesn't really have a whole lot he has to prove to us.

For this reason, I would like to publicly thank the Lord for filling the church with the glorious smell of bacon just as communion began this morning. I did nothing to deserve it, but it made the Eucharist all the more special. Jesus knows I love bacon.

And it was hilarious.