What I've Learned About Perseverance

Friday will be the beginning of week 4 since I made up my mind to actually do something with a gift I was given over 76 years ago. Over the years, I've enjoyed having this gift, but never really took into account just how unique it is. Yes, similarities run through it, much like others with the same gift. Still, my gift was unique to what I had need of. For the challenges I would face. For unanswered questions. For living life. For understanding. For a way back to health, mentally and physically. 

I usually begin my daily walk anywhere between 6 and 7 am. Come rain (and there's been a LOT of that happening...which I love), or come shine. Most mornings I am greeted with the fragrance of honeysuckle as I step off the porch. Then, the most amazing aroma from my Jasmine Bush greets me as I walk past the roadside mailbox. As the walk begins, there is most usually a fresh breeze that welcomes me, whether the clouds are dumping their rain or the already warm sun is shining. And I welcome it!

It has taken me all of these 3 weeks to see the trend of walkers/joggers between the minutes of this hour. If I get out by 6:15, it's usually just me. Alone with my thoughts. If I'm 15 minutes later, I'll see 1-3 others out and about. Today, there were 5. Walkers & joggers. On occasion, one of those walkers will speak when spoken to. It's a mystery to me why they ignore the greeting. The runners, I don't even bother to greet anymore. I used to, in the beginning days, but soon learned they must need their breathing to be consistent so they conserve it. I don't really know. But, I've yet to have a response from any of them. One of the runners I meet every day finally threw a smile my direction as we met this morning. I liked that. I knew she wouldn't respond verbally, but it was just the encouragement I needed to wish her a great day. And a walker almost got into a full blown conversation with me, all the while we both walked in different directions. Also, I've noticed the increase in traffic down my favorite stretch of road, during the minutes between 6:30 and 7:00. I'm guessing they're all headed to work, or possibly taking their kiddos to summer camp. Again, no clue. 

The noise doesn't bother me so much. I still see many woodland creatures scurrying around. Which is kinda calming, actually. I could swear the traffic stopping geese I come across, now recognize me. We lock eyes as I wish them a happy day, as well. Side note:Yes, they actually stop traffic here. It's the craziest thing I've seen in awhile. They take their sweet time crossing a busy road, backing up traffic for a fair distance, as if danger is nowhere to be found. And there is usually a whole brood of them. It does no good to honk at them. They are oblivious to the fact you have a place to be. 

So, what have I learned about perseverance? 

1) It calms the soul. 

2) It gives one something to look forward to. 

3) It gives a boost of confidence. 

4) It strengthens the spirit. 

5) It showers one with rewards. 

These 5 things are what grace is rooted in. God knew we would need grace applied to our lives, and He generously gave it to us. We just have to mobilize it. Reach for it. It's free for the asking, but just like anything with clear instructions, we can't find that place where grace has been applied without first realizing its there, then implementing it. Then the realization will come that it continually surrounds us. It's when we walk in the knowledge of grace, that we actually experience it.

Lastly, as we look for the grace we've been given, we must persevere consistently. Once realized, it's as close as the air we breathe. The realization of it being a real thing comes so effortlessly as we walk in it. Always realizing it as the free gift it is from the One who created us and reserved a spot within each of us to utilize this amazing gift in its uniqueness, not found anywhere but within the house provided by a loving Father. The place where His love for us resides. In my opinion, the reason we become miserable in our lives is simply that we don't know this fact, or have simply forgotten its existence. Or denied it.

Broken down, it may look something like this:

Perseverance is doing something despite the difficulty or delay in achieving the success we are looking for. Being single-minded, if you will. Consistency is applying what is needed for the sake of accuracy that best suits the need for what one is persevering for. An example of that would be putting one foot in front of the other if the goal is being healthy. 

In this case, it is being applied to my determined spirit to drop these unwanted extra pounds I've accumulated that are seemingly causing a few health issues. In order for me to be successful I must first apply the strategy (consistency) to the difficulty (perseverance), and become single-minded by focusing on the prize set before me. Bringing my body back into subjection to be all that it was meant to be, while remembering Rome wasn't built in a day, so neither should I expect immediate results from something it took more than 3 years to accumulate. And remembering grace will cover everything I reach for.

Not wasting, not ignoring, not simply taking advantage of this wonderful "house" God has provided for me, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.

Time for Reconciliation

One week in, and I thought I might collapse before my legs got me home as I continued to lengthen the journey of the day. It wasn't because of the lack of oxygen, or chest pain. It was because my upper legs and hips were taking a beating as my determined spirit commanded them to move forward. Again and again. Never give up. Never give up. Keep going. Keep going...

The winter months (and a lazy spirit) had gotten me to a weight that wasn't acceptable. The problem wasn't what I thought others thought as they looked my way. The problem was what I thought, every time I looked at the reflection of someone I didn't know. Had I really allowed myself to get to this point? Evidently I had. 

My sweet tooth yelled back at me. "It doesn't just magically appear, young lady!" So, me, and who I was created to be (physically AND mentally), jumped into the conversation for the hundredth time. "This is not good." "You DO want to be around for your grand-kiddos, right?" "Don't you miss how GOOD it felt to be the size your body loves being?" "This will take some time, but seriously, where will you be when that time has past?" And finally, "Let's get to work!"

Isn't it crazy what our mind tells us when we finally decide to make a change? Where food is concerned, everytime I walked past the pastry sitting on the counter (waiting for me and a cup of coffee), my thoughts were that I should get that all eaten before starting this wind down of sweets entering my mouth. UGH!!! So I did. 🙄

This staycation has been good. I feel I'm able to focus a bit better and hopefully get some of those cobwebs out of my stale, stagnant brain. I'm seriously tired of mindlessly walking through the motions of everyday life. I did make plans to shake things up a bit for this 6 day sabbatical, yet none have been accomplished, and I'm 4 days in. I have no remorse. 😂  

If you don't know by now, I'm a bit of a mysterious person. Sometimes I talk too much, wishing I could just fade into the background and be silent. Sometimes I don't talk hardly at all, wishing I had someone that would listen. But, for the most part, I'm a pretty verbal gal. I want my voice to be heard. Good or bad. Focused or indifferent. Happy or sad. Isn't that what most of humanity wants? To be heard? 

I've been told by my doctor, to please start walking. She wants this cholesterol level to drop and blood pressure to even out. So do I, so I walk. Granted, it took her about 3 months to get me moving, but it's not like I lead a motionless life. I still work at this ripe old age of 76. Sure, it's only 4 days a week, but still. That should account for something. Right? Turns out it doesn't amount to much at all. Even though I'm on my feet for the duration of those 4 days, I'm not really moving that much. Unless standing translates to movement, I may be in trouble. My arms are nice and strong and my legs are the epitome of strength, but the other less worked parts, wellllll....

Guess I could blame the bakery for making those tempting morsels in the first place. They are the cause of all the morbidity, not only in me, but in the masses. Right? Maybe we should sue them. Isn't that what we do nowadays? We couldn't possibly be responsible for this madness our bodies are rebelling with. If they hadn't tempted us, we'd never be in this situation. How dare they! And why should the bakery's profit from our sufferings? 

Sorry...had to show off my wokeness for a minute. 

My parents raised 10 kids to understand that their actions had consequences. Good, and not so good. We were made to understand that how others lived their lives, made no difference in how (or why) we reaped consequences. The outcome of our lives depended completely on how we faced and responded to the life we were given. And much of it came from the amount of control we had over ourselves. How much we demanded submission of our own body. Over its actions. Our consequences were in direct relation to what we chose to do in any given circumstance. 

So...here I go again, taking charge (once again) of my actions. I never should have relinquished, should never have pushed away, the complete understanding of the charge I have over my home. The shelter of my spirit. I should never have relinquished charge of all the countless ways my body was designed to aid me in the choices I made. My body is faithful. Until it can no longer be so because of my choices. We are partners. My body and I. It will give me good returns, if I but give it good nutrition and proper movement.

Working on forgiveness of such blatant irresponsibility, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.

The Depth of the Soul

Some may take offense at what this blog is going to address. However, it needs addressed. I don't hear it often, but when I do, it attaches itself not only in my memory, but it does something hurtful to my soul. Regardless if it was meant for me, or another. My physical body takes the brunt of it, as the words resound over and over inside the body's constant flow of life. 

I won't mention the slang term I am speaking of, but the same holds true of any defaming word, such as "stupid" or "idiot". The person you aim these foul words at, may indeed be irritating or ridiculous in whatever they have said or done, to cause the urge to respond with inflammatory words that wound. Yet, what is the purpose of spewing garbage everywhere? Does it make us feel any better that we've "put them in their place"? Does it make us feel superior to them? Why? Why must we do that?

You, and I, have heard the saying that how a person acts, how they talk-down to others, isn't necessarily about those being attacked with the foul verbiage, but rather, it's about them. It's about the content of the abusers soul. Yet, words have a way of piercing us, don't they? 

If nothing else, these sort of "attacks" cause me to stop and search my own soul. Have I spewed out unnecessary language at others? Is it well with MY soul? 

This is what was roaming around my brain waves as I walked the neighborhood this drizzly, and quite muggy, morning. 

Allowing you entrance into my mind, here you will find me...in Mary's World