Kickin' & Screamin'

I walk every Wednesday.  Other days too, but always on Wednesdays.  Only severe lightening could keep me from my Wednesday walks. Today I walked in the rain.  I fell, and I’m going to have a bruise on my hip, but I got a good laugh out of it.

Each Wednesday while my daughter is in dance class, I walk nearby in a spot that I’m convinced was created just for me.   I would tell others about it, as I’m sure many more dance Moms enjoy a good walk….but I’m extremely selfish about these Wednesday walks.  I feel as though if a friend showed up to join me, I might disappoint them as I begin to sob over the loss of my alone time.  Each week, I look forward to leaving my thoughts and worries in these woods.  If trees could talk…

I often feel like I’m walking with God in these woods….from the first step I take.  Other times, I feel like I begin my walk in search for Him, and barely find His peace before my time is up…time to return to pick my daughter up from her dance class.  I think that mostly depends on the day I’ve had, and how open I am to listen to Him.  Today was rough.  I’d had a hard day.  A really hard day.  I felt like my Wednesday hike through the woods would just be a time of self pity, running particular issues over and over in my head until it throbbed.  For the first time in months, I actually tried to talk myself out of walking today.  I had a good book in my car, along with my newly acquired old-lady reading glasses….and I had just about convinced myself that this rainy afternoon should be spent reading in the parking lot while Ella danced.  But one tiny little spark of encouragement convinced me to change clothes and lace up those shoes and hit the trail.

I immediately began looking for Hope.  Hope is a female deer that I see almost every week.  She often has her family with her, all of who scatter off when they see me.  But Hope doesn’t run.  She always stays put every time she sees me.  She watches me as I walk closer to her and her stare intimidates me just enough to make my heart race a bit faster.  I’ve gotten within three or four feet of her, and it’s a beautiful thing.  I’m afraid to speak when I’m near her.  I always pause the music blaring in my ear buds and we just stand there looking at one another.  I feel like she’s asking me how I’m doing.  How I’m REALLY doing.  I always answer her question in my head.  I’m convinced she will let me touch her one day.  I’m crazy, I know…..but I hold on to hope that she’ll allow it.  Touching HOPE.  I’m holding out for that day.

I didn’t see Hope today.  It made me terribly sad, more so than I expected.  I just really wanted to see her beauty.  I searched and searched, but gave up once I hiked out of the area where we’ve always met.  What I didn’t realize was that God had planned on showing me signs of Hope in other ways today….and Hope the deer apparently had more sense than I did, and was cozied up somewhere out of the rain.

My walks usually relax 98% of my body, and sometimes my mind….depending on my stubbornness and how open I am to relaxing my brain and ignoring all things that try to creep in to my thoughts.  But there’s one part of me that will not, under any circumstances, relax…and that’s my left hand.  I’m sure there’s some crazy psychiatric reason for it…but I refuse to research it, for that will lead to me diagnosing myself with a horrific disease.   I tend to keep my hand in constant motion, bending my fingers like bendy straws.  You would think I was in a knuckle cracking contest with all intentions of winning.  I would say that maybe it’s some type of weird thing I developed once I stopped wearing my wedding ring, but I’ve been doing it since I was a child.

I realized this afternoon that I was doing it….my stupid nervous habit.  WHY can’t I relax my left hand?  Only a true crazy person would have such an issue (and write about it for all of you to read).  Just as I was cursing myself for not being able to relax, I fell.  I slid down a small hill, about five feet, and landed right up against a small tree.  It was a laugh or cry situation, and of course I chose to laugh.  I did the immediate quick look-around that we all do, to make sure no one saw my enormous display of pure grace, then I burst into laughter.  During my cackling, I realized I was sitting on a small rock.  I picked the rock up in my left hand, and it immediately relaxed.  DUH.  Just hold something in your hand.  Give your hand a purpose.  I immediately began to think of how my whole life can sometimes seem like a nervous tick, but if I fill it with something, it relaxes.  Sometimes, God just has to give me a DUH moment.  I honestly wonder if He sometimes looks down on me and says, “DUH, Mary.  Took you long enough to figure that out.”

As I continued on my journey, hobbling just a bit from the tumble, I decided to take a new trail down to the lake.  As I walked along the trail strewn with slick leaves (willing myself not to fall again), the rain began to fall harder.  I noticed the trail begin to fun parallel to a creek.  I had noticed the creek many times before, but had never seen this part of it.  After a short while, I realized the creek was flowing right into the lake.  A tiny little creek was opening up into a rather large cove of our awesome Lake Lanier.  I realized at that moment that I had never actually seen a creek flow into the lake.  I’ve spent every year of my life on the lake, and know many parts of it like the back of my nervous, weird hand….but I had never seen a creek flow in to it.  Once again, I had a moment of clarity.  Our lives can be like a huge lake….a lake that sometimes holds happy, jubilant waters, and sometimes waters of fear and tragedy.  We seem to only think about the lake…especially in times of despair.  Do we ever stop to think of WHERE the lake comes from?  How very many creeks, streams and rivers flow in to it?  I began to think of those smaller bodies of water that lead in to our big “lake.”  My lake is filled with tiny streams from my past….some happy, some tragic, some hilariously funny, some rather melancholy, some filled with so much love it makes me feel full inside to remember them.  Some that make me feel empty and scared.  But all of those streams and rivers lead to a lake that is this crazy life that I’m living.  A life that I’ve learned to love and enjoy.  Life is a lake, and I love my lake.  And it wouldn’t be the lake that it is without all of those tiny bodies of water flowing in to it.    Wow, God.  This is a lot of deep thinking for one short rain-soaked hike through the woods.

As I came near the end of my walk, I prepared for my weekly climb over a huge tree that had fallen over the path.  It fell weeks ago, right across the trail that I always walk, and the size of the tree keeps me from walking around it on either side.  To carry on, I had to literally crawl over it.  I got a few scratches the first time I attempted it, but I had mastered it pretty well.  Today, as I approached the fallen tree, I saw that someone had cut the part away that had been laying on the trail.  The very section of the tree that I had been crawling over was gone….had been removed.  My first thought was, “man, that certainly took long enough!  It’s been like that for weeks.”  But, as I walked through the open space, I realized I actually missed the adventure of crawling over the tree.  At this point, I honestly expected some type of heavenly harp music to begin playing through my earbuds, as I said (out loud), “good one, God!”  He was allowing me to see that, if we keep climbing over the obstacles before us, He WILL, in His time (usually never fast enough to please me), clear that obstacle.  You MIGHT even miss the struggle a bit, once everything becomes smooth.

I’m weird.  I’ve always been weird, and the older I get, the more I actually take pride in that.  I mean, who wants to be normal??  (how boring!)  I think what I am is an Outsider.  Definition of an outsider:  ‘one who doesn’t belong to a particular group’, with a second definition being ‘a competitor with little chance of success.’

Yep.  That’s me.  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m successful in many ways.  I’m a darn good teacher, and I truly believe I’ve touched many lives with my quirky teaching methods.  I’ve directed many groups of young singers through the years, with my nervous, twitchy left hand and smiling face.  I also consider myself to be quite successful at motherhood, so far.  But you might want to check back with me on that one in a few years.  But there are many ways I’ll never be successful.  And I honestly feel pretty good about that.  If I didn’t have my quirky ways, nervous habits, and a lifetime behind me (and hopefully ahead of me) of making poor decisions, then God wouldn’t have any more work to do on me.   And what kind of horrible life would that be?

My walks– whether it be my Wednesdays in the woods, or a stroll on the treadmill in my Mom’s basement–are not always eye opening.  But today was.  I walked out of the woods with a sore hip, mud-covered legs, a rock in my hand, and a happy heart.

I’m an Outsider who loves to learn, especially about myself.  I hope you’ll all go for a walk soon.  Be observant, and listen.  Watch out for those slick, wet leaves, but don’t hold back.  Look for beauty.  Enjoy the nature around you.  And if you fall, have a nice laugh and move on.  Always move on.

‘Cause if you’re not laughing
Who is laughing now
I’ve been wondering
If we stop sinking
Could we stand our ground
And through everything we’ve learned
We’ve finally come to terms
We are the outsiders

….On the outside
You’re free to roam
On the outside
We found a home
On the outside
There’s more to see
On the outside
We choose to be

~~The Outsiders, Needtobreathe (on my playlist every single Wednesday)