This morning I woke up to the sound of dog toenails clicking on my hardwood floors. I say “woke up” even though my alarm had already rung, I had already turned it off, and I had already decided not to exercise. But when I hear dog toenails clicking, I know that if I don’t answer the call to let the beast that owns those toenails out, I will have more cause for concern than I care to consider because he is a Boxer dog and he is the king of mess making. Yesterday morning he vomited at my feet, which is just about the worst gift a dog can give its owner. Other than worms. Worms are not a good gift.
I’m not that innocent
Last night I planned my workout—a brisk walk with my trusty ESV audio Bible. But, as with all good intentions, some dreams dissipate in the fog of exhaustion. So when my dog forced me out of bed, I decided to follow through on my plan even though I didn’t quite feel like it. That’s the great thing about planning…sometimes the plan sticks to me even though I don’t stick to it. Good habits, when properly applied, reap more than just results. They become part of your identity. My exercise habit has become so much a part of the routine that I feel somewhat naked without it.
I squeezed into my workout clothes and opened the door to find something I wasn’t quite expecting, rain. It was still dark outside but I could tell by the gray blob in the sky that this wasn’t a quick shower. It was a full on, not-going-anywhere drizzle. In case you were wondering, this is the point in my blog where my eyebrows furrow and I look a lot like Bert from Sesame Street. For a brief second I considered my elliptical machine, and then I decided I would rather stab myself in the eye with sharp objects than torture myself with that monstrosity. And so I pulled out a water resistant hoodie instead. And the rest, as they say, is history.
And I lived happily ever after.
Except when I didn’t.
And that is what walking in the rain feels like. The day AFTER happily ever after.
I have committed to live a healthy lifestyle. I have been practicing these healthy habits for almost 6 years now. But keeping the weight off my fat-inclined body is tough stuff. It’s skipping the donuts, maintaining a sugar-free lifestyle, and forcing myself to exercise even when I don’t feel like it. But I have to chuckle a little bit here because when faced with my options, walking in the rain or running on the elliptical, it felt like a hundred other adult decisions I make every day. Go to work and stay employed or live on the street. Wash the dishes or eat off a nasty plate. Do the laundry or wear stinky clothes. Why can’t my choice ever be between winning the lottery or finding gold nuggets in the back yard? But I digress.
Along with the cold wet drops dripping in my eyes, I felt the dreary flicker of despair. But for many reason, today I decided that despair is for dummies and I’m no dummy. So I bucked up and charged up the first hill and down the next. I started with Galatians and ended with Thessalonians. And I didn’t enjoy every second that my knee and hip hurt, but I kept walking anyway.
You see, in the dark of night I received a distress call (text message) from my son(who is a Marine). And because he is far away and I am not able to sit him on my lap anymore and kiss away his boo boos, I had two options: worry or pray. I chose the latter. Prayer infused with truth(the Bible) makes sad hearts glad. I know this is true because I don’t always like walking(especially with a bum knee and hip). But walking with Jesus is always awesome. It’s how I began my journey to better health and how I continue to keep the weight off. When life’s problems swell to enormous proportions I know that I have a safe place in a brisk walk with Jesus. Walking and Jesus have become so synonymous to me that I struggle to do one without the other.
Sometimes I worry about the day I stop adhering to a healthy lifestyle. But worry never gets me anywhere good. Sometimes my body gives out and I can’t do the things I want. That’s when I rest most in his grace. Today I rejoiced that I had the courage to face the rain and didn’t even consider skipping my workout. Sure I was spurred on by the need to pray for my son, but I’ll admit, I found so much joy as I walked and talked to God and gave him all my burdens, that the worry and fear and pain just evaporated in the splendor of his great grace. Because sometimes our best laid plans are diverted. And somehow they still manage to happen anyway. That has to be grace. And you can’t plan grace.
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