Hear Ye, Hear Ye

Last month I had my second subpoena to appear in court for my job as a counselor. Having only been one time before, which went well considering I was quite nervous, I felt more confident about this particular case. I do not like going to court mind you. But, as I DO like being free to go about my life, I obey subpoena's. So this is just my story of how you never really know something until you do.

I arrived at the courthouse at 8:45 am, scheduled for 9 am, and feeling good about my timing. I remembered my cell, keys, planner and client case file. Last time in court I learned you can't bring any kind of purse or bag, so you carry everything in a big pile with you. I went to the courtroom listed on the subpoena, and took a seat. I've never met the particular attorney who called me to court, so I begin scanning for my client. No sign of them, so I settle in and observe the people. That alone was both sad and funny depending on who I was watching. A few minutes tick by. It's now 8:50 and the courtroom is filling up. I am sandwiched in between two men in a back row and mildly uncomfortable, but also becoming nervous about not seeing my client. I'm in the room it listed, right? I debate with myself about getting up to crawl over the people in my row and the potential of losing my seat, but at 8:55 with no sign of my client, I am certain I have made a mistake but don't know what it is. I mumble "excuse me's" and inch my way out of the row and exit the room. Yep, that's the room listed, but where are they? I make a quick call to the attorney's office and explain my dilemma to the receptionist, who tells me I need to find a clerk to tell me what room the case has been assigned to (what?), and the clerk's office is probably on the 3rd floor. So I make a mad dash up one flight of stairs to find a clerk, thinking A- why is there a blasted room listed on the subpoena anyway and B- why did I wear these unbelievably tall heels?! I find the clerk thankfully and it's now 9 am. I'm late. And there are two men in line in front of me who, no kidding, are speaking slower than any humans I have ever heard. Tick, tick, tick. At 9:05 I'm feeling panicked. I don't know what happens when you are late for court and it certainly can't look good to the judge. I finally interrupt the slow-talkers and explain my problem. Ah, yes, your courtroom is on the 5th floor. Stairs are faster than the elevator.  I thank the clerk, who really looked more like a grandma than whatever I pictured a clerk looking like, and ran up two flights of stairs, causing me to break a sweat but not my neck. I see the other courtroom and realize there are only the defendant and my client and other witnesses in the courtroom. Great, no way to slip in unnoticed. I walk in trying to not huff and puff and look somewhat composed, and everyone (judge included) stops to look at me. Weak smile, mumbled apology. The attorney for my client leans toward and whispers, And you are....? I tell him my name and he looks relieved and asks the judge for a few minutes to confer with his expert witness who was in the wrong courtroom.

Sigh. Not my most shining moment. Well, unless you count the shine on my forehead from running up three flights of stairs. Because as we all know, unless there's a bear chasing me, I don't run. But I suppose I will have to amend that sentence now to include "a bear chasing me OR late for court". So girls, learn from my minor fiasco: a. wear comfy shoes to court b. find a clerk and never believe the subpoena c. bring extra powder just in case.

Facing the "E" word

Yo-yo-ing is the best way to describe my health and fitness journey.  I have spent years outsmarting my love of foods and disdain for exercise with clever little tricks, but they always leave me in a state of flux. I have to tell you, thankfully and gratefully, my parents did a wonderful job of helping me with my sense of self, and thus I arrived in the real world feeling pretty cute and loved. I realize many women do not share that particular part of my story and my heart aches for those who simply cannot see how beautiful God created them to be. But for me, I truly do not struggle on a regular basis with body image. Oh sure, every so often while shopping under fluorescent lights I begin to panic over some trouble spot I notice. But I generally think, "hey- not bad for 38 and three kids...." when looking in the mirror, and since I am not a perfectionist, "not bad" is good enough for me! As a result, after giving birth to my third baby, I had a considerable amount of unneeded weight left over. (I ate an inordinate amount of fast food during that pregnancy. I have never been that tired in my whole life and I napped every day from 3-5pm so we ate out a lot! Terrible but true.)  The truth is, without appearance as a motivator, I tend to make unhealthy choices. I love rich, cheesy, salty food. I love chocolate. I love flavored coffee creamer and Indian food and ice cream. I also deeply dislike exercise. I was never an athlete, and not for lack of effort. There were way too many "last picks" for the kick ball team in my childhood due to my general lack of athletic ability, and plus I just don't like getting sweaty. Or getting hit by balls. (whoever named it a softball obviously never got hit in the eye with one!) Bottom line, I am not set up internally to age well without an intervention. After the third baby, I decided it was time to shed the extra and worked out faithfully for a year with a friend at the YMCA. I was an elliptical queen. Once I was down to a reasonable size for good health and personal comfort, I made a decision. Throw out all the bigger sized clothes AND never buy a bigger size again. When the clothes stop fitting, time to watch the calories for awhile. And since I truly loathe the feeling of being a sausage stuffed into my clothing, this is a boundary that has worked for weight management for 7+ years. However, recently I'm coming to the conclusion that this boundary isn't really working wonders for my overall health. While it does keep me in a healthy range which is one factor in wellness, it really doesn't do much else. No heart health, no muscle tone, no flexibility and no endurance. Annoying, but true. It seems as I have my eye on 40, I am going to have to face my dread and found a boundary that I can live with regarding exercise. Sigh.

This past week at work during our staff meeting we were all sharing something God was showing us in our lives right now. (perks of working at a christian counseling center!) I was talking about how I am becoming aware that God wants me to be thankful for his providence in each situation I face. For a time at work, I was low on hours (equaling low on money) and I kept asking God to fill my schedule. Now I am slammed crazy busy, and I am asking God for time. Instead of seeing that low hours was His provision of time in my life, and busy schedule is His provision of finances. So in keeping with that theme, I'm asking God how my lack of love for fitness IS His provision in some way...... Here is what I see so far: it is his provision for growth in self discipline, and for humility. (These are not areas I am ever really excited to grow in mind you....) So friends I shall keep you posted on how I proceed into the new realm of being active, or something like it. And more interestingly, how God shows me Himself in that.