Of Treadmills and Tightropes

Okay, so most of you know that I am a fatty. Don't even think about saying that I am not (but thanks for the thought). Well, I have been working on my weightier issues and decided to buy a treadmill so that I can "run" or at least my version of running. At least I have lost enough weight that my fat does not hit me in the face when I run. Well, I have had this treadmill for about three weeks and it is becoming part of my daily routine. I get up every morning, except Sundays, and walk/jog for 30 minutes. I was really sore for the first week or so, but I have gotten used to it. So, today I decided to bump it up a little and do a more advanced version of my routine workout. Let's just say that I had to stop twice because it went so fast that I thought I might die. And, I was alone and nobody wants to die alone. I did get through the whole 30 minutes, and I feel good about myself, especially the dead run, I just wish that I could do it and it not kill me.

I wish I could find something really good to blame my fat on, you know like genetics or my horrible metabolism or my devilish delight in all things chocolate and/or fried. Probably, it is a combination of all of these things. I also realize that I am getting older because I have to worry about eating things with MSG in them. I used to treat myself to Chinese food each Wednesday night after my Choir practice, but I began to notice that I could not sleep and my heart was racing. Now, a lot of that had to do with the fact that I could not get comfortable because of my fat gut. See, it all goes back to that. I do not worry about these things all the time, I just try to be more careful with what I eat. And since I have lost 65 pounds since my highest weight I can sleep a whole lot better--but still no Chinese food.

I guess I am coming to terms with being responsible for myself and not allowing my mind to play tricks on me. I also have three little angels to think about now and I want to be able to play with them and not want to die afterward. One of the best things about my move to Florida is that I am becoming more comfortable with myself. People who knew me before would be surprised to find that I am much more mellow than I used to be, though I would not call myself mellow (and neither would my wife, by the way). For example, I wear shorts often. I wear flip flops (that's right, flip flops) most days. I think that in my previous life I was just too worried about what other people thought. I was a professor and had to present a certain image. But that image was one I imposed upon myself and had little to do with actual requirements of my position.

So even though I am more concerned with my physical health and won't eat Chinese food, I am acting younger than I have ever allowed myself to act. I realize that I was old when I was a kid. I would invited "friends" over, but would not allow them to play with my toys. I was very dogmatic about issues that I could care less about now. I realize I just never had any fun. I regret that.

Now I am in a place that I can explore myself more fully and that is very liberating. My family benefits from this everyday. I know there are drawbacks to being so far away from our extended families, but my children are being able to know me in a healthier and more engaged way than they would have if we had stayed. I have good friends that I love and that love me. They have become our family in lieu of the real thing. I am thankful for them. What I like best is that I can be completely honest about who I am and what I believe and not have to worry about being judged or wonder whether or not what I say will end up as fodder for conversations with people who do not need to know my personal business. Some of this, of course, was my "normal" paranoia, but not all. I am looking forward to the day when my life here is not affected by my life there. Maybe it will never come or should never come, but I am just waiting for him to "make me to forget."

I guess it is about walking the tight rope without the net. What is astonishing to me still is that what I thought would be the single hardest thing I ever had to do in my life has become the easiest things I have ever done. If I could just learn to trust God without reservation, how much more would I experience? How much more would He show me? I realize now that the tight rope is not all that scary and the rewards far outweigh the price that you have to pay.

Peace

You Can Never Go "Home"

Well . . .

I just got home after a short vacation to Texas to visit my family. It was nice to see them all. We had family pictures made. That was nice too. I got to eat at some of my favorite restaurants. That was nicest of all. On the way back we stayed in New Orleans and had beignets at Cafe du Monde and ate Creole food on Jackson Square. Our waitress was not a "tress" at all, so we got the entire French Quarter experience. On our way out this morning we saw the remains of the 9th Ward and other areas hit hardest by Hurricane Katrina. It is amazing that almost two years later, much of the city is still uninhabitable. New Orleans is definitely up and running, and you would never know that anything happened in the Quarter, but how long can this really go on? There are so many people who can never really go home. Unfortunately, there are a lot of folks in Dallas and Houston who wish they could.

During our time in Texas, we had an interesting experience. One day, we took a trip down to Waxahachie, where we lived for almost ten years, bought our first home, and introduced our three daughters to the world. I had not been back since I moved to Florida in February 2006. I went back to Texas over Christmas holidays, but I was not ready to go back "home." Lots of reasons for that. Well, we drove by our old home and it looked awful. I almost hope the woman who bought our house could read this, but the place was a wreck in just over a year. We had prided ourselves in keeping the lawn looking very good. My wife and I bought the house new, so there was no lawn and no landscaping. We did everything to make the home look respectable. But now, the lawn was horribly overgrown, the trees were dying, and the shrubs had not been pruned since the last time my wife pruned them in late 2005. It was embarrassing. We wanted to drive by, see the house, and remember bringing our girls home from the hospital and all the parties I used to have with my students. But now, if we never knew it before, that is not our house anymore.

It was a little sad, but put a close to that chapter of my life. I just realized again how thankful I should be to be where I am. Before we left for our visit, my mother told me I should go see the old life and have a good time and realize that I had done the right thing by moving to Florida. She was right.

I am thankful that I have choices and God has blessed me with opportunities, opportunities that many of the poor folks from New Orleans will never experience. I think we have a problem in this country when the church believes that every poor person is poor because they want to be that way. They have made the choice to live that way. Although I believe many people make bad decisions that lead them to homelessness, many poor people really have no way out of their poverty. I am beginning to wonder whether or not much of our "Christian" rhetoric about the poor is really latent racism and a whole lot of fear. I admit that I am afraid, but fear is not going to limit me. I took my children to New Orleans because I want them to grow up aware of their world, and not afraid of it.