Roller Coasters and Ice Cream!

I will never forget the first time I rode on a roller coaster. My mom and dad took me to Six Flags and we rode on the Screaming Eagle. I was probably only 10 years old and I was ecstatic. Riding the grown-up rides was significant at that point in my life. It meant I was “big.” I remember climbing aboard and feeling so nervous. I thought there would be a seat belt(I’m not sure why). There was not. I realized all I had to hold onto was a tiny bar in front of me, but I was sitting next to my mom so I figured I would be okay. Oh how very wrong I was.

Climbing that first hill took(what felt like) 2 hours. I wasn’t sure what to expect at the top of it. I knew a drop was coming, but I didn’t know what that would look or feel like. I heard the click-click-click-click of the train-car climbing and then–with very little warning–the cars in front of me began to drop. I was pulled forward and began the stomach-lurching fall that sped us down and around some turns. And I will be honest—I really did think I was going to die. I realized I was not big after all. In fact, I felt very, very small. There I was, shifting around in my seat with each jolt of the car. I mean, I clung to the bar, but I may as well have been clinging to a sheet of paper blowing in the wind. I may have screamed. I don’t remember. What I do remember was the slow and steady ache in my stomach, the guttural groaning, and the longing for someone to see my misery, stop the ride and let me off.

Sometimes life is a lot like a roller coaster. I suppose for some people that means that there is a succession of highs and lows, but for me, it means life is scary and I want off! Unfortunately, the ride is still moving and all I can do is hold on for dear life and wait.

Our little family has had a succession of roller-coaster drops here recently. The head gaskets on our truck malfunctioned and had to be replaced. And while I like to say, “It’s only money,” my husband is freaking out. And the tax man is calling and he would like(what feels like) my first born child. And my health continues to be precarious. I will feel great one day and like gutter sludge the next. And my emotions are all over the place because I’m a human being trying to process a whole bunch of shifts in the wheels as we climb yet another hill. So last night I laid in bed and made the (foolish) decision to watch television as presidential primary results rolled in. And I looked at the little boy asleep next to me and sighed as I considered that we’re all doomed. Or, as my dad likes to say, “We’ll never get out of this world alive.”

I have to pause here to chuckle. Because it’s actually really funny. And you would laugh too if you’d ever seen my dad say that with his trademark smirk. He is the king of worriers so it’s no surprise I get a little anxious when the turbulence of life hits. But I have learned over time that no matter how bumpy the ride may be, I just have to keep moving. Because I’m not on this roller coaster ride alone. My friend Jesus is in the seat next to me and he’s got me covered. I won’t fly out of my seat. And the lurching won’t last forever. So right now, even though I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth, it’s cool. And without listing them, I can think of a thousand worse things that could be happening to me or my loved ones right now. So I’m just going to thank God for what I’ve got. I mean really…there could be zombies. And zombies are even worse than roller coasters!

This morning I went for a walk. I was definitely in the gutter sludge kind of mood because daylight savings time hit this week and I’m plumb tuckered out. But I exercised anyway. Because some days, as much as I want to give up, I just refuse to give into that line of thinking. That’s what resolve is. I resolve to keep trying. Even when I’ve gained 10 pounds. Even when my knee aches. Even when I’m crabby and sick of the whole business. And you know what? I always feel better when I’m done. If for no other reason than that part of my day is done and over with. Because it’s true that I don’t always feel better after I work out. And that’s okay too. Because there’s something to be said about doing a thing that’s mentally and physically challenging and doing it well. Because that means I get to eat ice cream!