For pretty much 99.99% of my life, I have been aiming for the goal of living a “balanced life”. I have used phrases such as “everything in moderation” and have aimed to live a life that doesn’t have too much or too little of anything. I eat healthy, most of the time. I try to get enough exercise. I try not to watch too much television and have pretty much cut out all trash TV and trash magazines. My husband might disagree with that last statement. I’ve even extended this to my children. I don’t let them watch too much TV, eat too much junk food or get them over-extended in too many extracurricular activities, but I don’t deprive them either. After all, it’s all about balanced living; some might even call me Zen.
Until this week, I never gave much thought to the term elder’s wife. I can be a bit oblivious at times. This week my life changed though. This week I became an elder’s wife… dun-dun-dun (sing that to scary music when you read it, it makes it sound cool). When Brian approached me several months ago and asked me what I thought about him becoming an elder, I said sure, sounds great. I always try to encourage him to be part of working in God’s kingdom.
There seems to be a lot of worshiping going on at the gym. Maybe that’s why they have so many mirrors. Don’t you just hate those big muscle bound men constantly staring at themselves in the mirror, worshiping their bodies? I was thinking about this today. Then as I looked at my body, that I don’t like so much, in the mirror, I realized I’m doing the same thing … worshiping my insecurities. Worshiping myself.
When I went away to college the church almost lost me. I went to college and met thinkers; to me this was a completely new concept. Questioning things and not just believing things because I was born into some religion was a new concept. Realizing there were thousands of other people born into other religions that thought the same thing I thought, I’ve got it all right, scared me to death.
It all started while we were on vacation in the Florida Keys a few months back. The house we stayed at had a multitude of coconut trees. Resting in my pool chair, it seemed as if the coconuts were taunting me saying “you can’t climb up this tree and pick me.”
I grew up singing hymns in church. Hymns are almost a thing of the past and while I enjoy the more contemporary music we sing at church today, there is something about hymns I love. They are like comfort food for my soul.
Get that frown off your face put a smile in its place, let the love of Jesus Christ show through. This is the song I sing to my kids when they are being grumpy about getting their hair brushed, their faces washed, or being grumpy about life in general.
Today it was a song I sang in my heart to remind me to quit grumbling. I am in a small community in the Dominican Republic this week on a mission trip and I’ve been a bit of a complainer. The floors aren’t clean in the dorm room, the waste baskets by the toilet are overflowing with our USED toilet paper (can’t flush the TP in the DR), I have felt unsafe a couple of times, I feel dirty and stinky, etc.
It takes a village. I’m almost scared to put that in writing after the backlash Hillary Clinton received after saying those words. I have learned in the past few weeks though, how true it is. Not only does it take a village to raise a child, it takes a village to live on this planet.
I’ve dealt with back pain all of my adult life. It started in college and has continued to get worse over the years. I’m told I have several herniated discs and the spine of a 70 year old (I’m 37 years old). I’ve never been in an accident. The best anyone can tell, it’s simply bad genes. I’ve been able to manage it over the years with physical therapy, injections, stretching, and working out, all with varying degrees of success.