For my future self

 I did a grocery run yesterday. An older woman, in upper seventies at least, was in line behind me. As I bagged my things, she stared at me.

"Born to swim, bike, run," she spoke as she read from my shirt. 

We smiled at each other. 

"Do you swim?" I asked.

She rose taller and said with pride and confidence, "I won three medals in the senior olympics! And I did a little triathlon once."

Her face was beaming. Mine too. We high-fived. 

"That was a few years ago," she added, trailing off. 

"Still counts," I said.

"Looks like you're feeding an army," she remarked about my purchases.

"A small army," I laughed. 

A retirement community was built recently in this shopping center, and the customer base has shifted significantly, affecting things in a new way: fruit that's ripe and ready to eat, music that I don't quite relate to, lots of older folks using the smaller carts. 

My purchase, already downsized because I no longer buy certain foods in chains anymore, still was enough for a family of four for a week. But when you're older and it's just two, or just you, you don't buy as much. Lately, I've been thinking on that, on dinners for two, or running the dishwasher at the end of the day when it isn't as full anymore, or the big trash totes that we won't fill the same in a near future. 

(A year ago, we played our last family night game at the table, thankfully at Lanie's request. But now, we are all in separate spaces, and Shane and I end up playing Frisbee or chase with Ruth because the kids are doing their own things now. A lot changed in a year.)

I waved goodbye to the older woman on my way out, smiling so big to have met a fellow athlete in line. 

I've thought about her all day today ... while I was running this morning listening to my one track ... while I was selecting friends to follow at the different upcoming Ironman races ... as Erin chatted me about Phe (aka Ephesians aka Immanuel) swimming and how we'll have that to talk about at the table on Thanksgiving ... thought about that woman's big smile and little cart. I wondered who cheered her on when she was earning those medals. I wondered if she looked at those medals when she got home.

I came across an old post from ten years ago when Shane was debating about whether or not to repair our treadmill and I said to him, "I think my running days are over." We laughed about that over lunch today, how I had no idea then that not only would I run a mile again one day, but I'd run thirteen, and even through Paris ... and I'd learn to swim. 

Yeah, I think of that older woman, and wonder if I was looking into the future. Remembering today to fight for my future self, to give her the ability to stand tall and confident one day.

Soundtrack

One of my favorite series we discovered in the television binge watching that 2020 kicked off was a show called Alex Rider. Turns out, it's based on a set of books about a character named Alex Rider. I watched the first two seasons of the show, actually repeatedly for a time, and admired the flawless authenticity of the characters (at least in seasons one and two. Season three seemed a bit forced, like someone gave them a great pep talk to be on their best behavior before filming.). I even liked the music they played in it (seasons one and two) and created a playlist of Alex Rider music for when I worked out. I used to use it running, but now I just use it lifting weights. 

Earlier this year as spring turned summer, Kenny Logins' song I'm Alright was a tune on repeat after the uninvitation. IYKYK. 

Now as summer turns fall, this fall has knocked me off my game in every aspect, on all fronts. I called it the turning because of repeatedly seeing the term in larger arenas. My own life is in a great tumbling, turning. All this year, a visual bombardment to armor up, to put on the full armor of God. These verses showing up on feeds and messages, like a sounding alarm.

¹⁰ Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. ¹¹ Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. ¹² For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. ¹³ Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. ¹⁴ Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, ¹⁵ and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. ¹⁶ In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. ¹⁷ Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

¹⁸ And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people. (Ephesians 6:10-18, NIV, emphasis added)

I heard a song on the radio. The first time, I thought, "I need to look this one up." But I didn't. Then it came on again, and I remembered, oh yeah. Now it shows up everywhere on my feeds and in messages. Take It All Back.

It's also on repeat on my runs. 

When I have a song on repeat, it's almost like time stands still. I don't notice how many times it's played, I only notice it's playing. I can't guess how much time I've been running based on where I am on a playlist because it's only one song, over and over. And even though time is out of focus, sometimes over an hour (crazy, right?), my thoughts are always kept in focus. 

I've covered a lot of miles and hours with that song, and I still don't have it memorized, because honestly, there's a lot of thinking and prayer that goes on in my mind while that song plays over me. But when I'm out and about, if that song is playing, my hearing hones in and I am brought immediately back to alertness. 

Day story

 September 2024

Outside my window, we closed up Big Blue. It was the shortest season yet, as we didn't open until late July, awaiting a part for the filter. I got in a few good swims, for sure, but not nearly as many as I would have liked. Cooling temps and falling leaves, plus a forecast of more of the same plus rain, forced our hand to close up for the season. Leaves are falling like confetti and blowing into the field, to Shane's dismay. He loves summer and is not a fan of falling leaves and winter. But I love it all. I love every season's song. I love swimming. I love snow. 

And I quote,

"Things are not what they seem. We are at war. You have a crucial role to play." John Eldredge, Epic.

Giving thanks for a school year start that rubs like iron on iron. How a co-op's back-to-school presentation that underscored expectations of students (and families) not getting to pick and choose the work they want to do that a teacher assigns, stupefied me immediately the first week when a parent and long-time member tried to forge a different path for her child with an assignment. To any mama bears landing here, you think you're fighting for your sons. But know--I am also fighting for your sons: to do hard things, to silence voices of shame within and without, to know their value isn't tied to their peers but to their creator, to not only start but finish what they start. No one grows or benefits when someone takes the easy path.

In the school room, we are schooling. Now entering week two, the banner is down and the letterboard is changed (and ready to change again). We are going through subjects, and I love-love-love this: we are reading Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Erin has been resisting it daily, oh his tedious and long sentences! Oh, the endless, pointless, boring banter! But, oh, a breakthrough on Friday when she said that Gringoire reminded her of dramatic Frankenstein (not the monster), and she started quoting from Frankenstein in theatrical fashion, later to break out in laughter over Gringoire's over-the-top drama, and request, "Bend the page!" What a win! (Then he looked into the Seine at his feet, and felt a horrible temptation. 'Oh!' said he, 'how willingly would I drown myself--if the water were not so cold!' The Hunchback of Notre Dame, p47.) Thank you, God. 

From the kitchen, lots of smoothies. I did make a pumpkin quick bread on our first day back, but I haven't had a great appetite this week (got sick Sunday last week, and while my energy levels bounced back immediately, I still don't have a great appetite--but maybe that's because of the preoccupation with the Life Skills' goal project, lol), so I'm not entirely interested in meal planning. I might make a potato soup today since I have potatoes.

I am focused. A student's protest. A mama's request for conversation. A culture's influence. My own feelings battling me for spotlight. I am keeping my focus. I lose time and ground by being distracted. I'm lucky to have Marshall's Mom and Shane to bounce off my frustration--they grab my shoulders and spin me back around, pushing me with courage back into the ring.

I don't want to forget that when her friend scoffed at Erin not wanting to text with her while we were heading out on a drive, she told the girl that she wanted to spend time with me and talk, not be on the phone. Or that she requested a dinner and movie out with her parents, and she was looking forward to it. I don't want to forget that at this point in time, my daughter likes me, loves me, and wants to spend time with me. I am keenly aware of the breaking away period in a young adult's life, so this ground of welcome and inclusion is a treasured and precious gift. Especially when time together is my heart's love language.

I am reading books on cults, books on global issues, and a book by Christine Caine: Don't Look Back. Since August, I have purchased eighteen books through Amazon alone. This doesn't take into account the books I've borrowed from the library or purchased through Abe. I am in full-on binge mode of reading, and none of it is fiction or related to homeschooling. And the growing piles of books are becoming looming pillars. 

Around the house, I am trying to be intentional about sweeping, opening windows, cleaning windows, doing laundry, dusting, having good smells and good foods. Trying to maintain a space of welcome, peace, inclusion, and cozy. However, the books are battling me for ground.

On the letterboard, soon to be removed, Team Wilbur. 

I value truth. I value integrity. I value endurance. 

A view of my favorite things

 

iron sharpens iron

my back-to-school hair

snagged a cinnamon roll for Erin when I had coffee with Sharon

team

groggy first day

race day working behind the scenes

perspective

At the table, oh, my tables are changing. Sometimes Lanie joins us for part of a meal, but it's rare. And Erin generally eats later. So right now, my school table is my constant. And Shane. I can always count on him to sit with me and enjoy a meal and conversation. He was my best friend before kids, and he'll still be my best friend when they are gone.

The last first day

I found a banner in a drawer and pulled it out. It read:

First Day Yay!

A tender relic from the past. I hung it up. 

I've homeschooled my kids from kindergarten through twelfth. Lanie had co-op influences and dual enrollment in high school. Erin did a little bit of co-op in early high school, but preferred to be just us the last two years. 

This poor kid ... when there are so many books to read and memories to make and adventures to seek still, I want to do it all with her, and how much can I possibly fit into this last senior year? 

Because she has her own books she wants to read, and memories she wants to make, and adventures she wants to seek, as an adult. And this is where I hope to switch gears fast. To help her make a leap and know that I am cheering her on. To know that she is loved and treasured in success or failure. To understand that there is always a safe place to land, a meal to be shared, a hug waiting, a prayer being offered always. 

I prepared a pumpkin quick bread with cinnamon chips. When I opened the cookbook, there was an applesauce bread recipe with a notation the day I'd made it on Erin's first of tenth grade. I wished I'd had applesauce, but a different recipe with pumpkin sufficed and was warmly welcomed by all. 

We got the work done and had plenty of beautiful day to spare. I taught at co-op in the afternoon to a full room. It was a really good day. (How I loved the gifted teacher's pencil bag with an array of sticky notes, pens and dry erase markers, and even a mini stapler with staples! What a fun delight! I handed over the sweet treats bag to my assistant, because she deserved celebration as well.)

At day three, the first day banner is still up on our school room wall, but the pumpkin bread was finished off yesterday, to my heart's delight. (Yesterday, Erin chatted me so long, and at one point joined me on the couch, curling into my arms, and I will treasure the time and getting to know the things on her heart.)

Looking over our school room, books back out and pages marked, I think of all the years this has been our family's rhythm. How strange it feels to know we are on the last chapter of sorts. May I never mistake a day for ordinary when they each are full of wonder.

Lord, be with Erin and fill her heart with your Holy Spirit. Give her the desire to follow you and to walk in the truth. Bring godly friendships into her life and people who will encourage her to trust and follow you. I trust in your timing and your plan. I know that you are preparing me for a next chapter, and that you will determine my steps. As I number these days, Lord, may I gain a heart of wisdom.

So many sweet and juicy words. Life is a feast.

And still counting ... (19,644-19,746)

that Erin called me when she could have called anyone else, her laughter

that she's creative and loves nature, William who checks up on me, a friend and former coworker and blogger who circled the brightest minds for me, that she prays for us, resources

that morning she wore the "Favorite Daughter" sweatshirt and how my heart hoped, lunch with Anita, our feet in the pool, twenty calls with Jenne, a great bike ride on a new path

the pastor who talked to me and prayed for me, Tracey, Amy T, treadmill runs, chocolate cherry smoothies

our chickens, grilled veggie salad with feta and kalamata olives, turmeric kefir drink, the era shirts, the new soap holder for the shower

for strangers-to-allies who stepped in and listened, the teens working the 'summer reading' table at the library and the instant flood of sweet nostalgia, a tote full of watercolor tutorials, skeins of baby yarns called Speckled Hen, cricket song in the early morning

for a car packed to bursting and loaded, her friends along for the ride, guests at the kitchen table, a fun run to Goodwill for bargain hunting, the moms picking up their daughters and how delightful it was to meet them

hopes to get together soon, Erin and armpit time together, for Amy T when I shared my broken heart and the scriptures she sent me, her understanding, how she understood my disagreement with the post about reaping what you sow (when I wasn't sowing these seeds at all, but someone else is pulling the strings)

a belt in the mail, talks with my man about moving, the article about the French chateau, the cashier at Trader Joe's who made small talk about my shirt, how it turned into a talk about France

how we both wondered what are we doing here, and that once upon a time he was a runner (of course I handed him a card with the rest of the season's race line up!), flowers in a vase, muffins for my kids, a bottle of olive oil

songs on a podcast, songs on the radio, a pool for swimming, sunny days, chilly mornings

long-sleeve shirts and shorts, her spontaneous hugs, prayers and word from a strong friend in the faith, Amy's urging that art heals and to get the little watercolor travel kit, small books on the way for hiking and art

end of summer sweet juicy peaches and plums so good I cannot believe how lucky I am, a long swim at the gym, how you can't cry while you're swimming, tears unloading the dishwasher, and a husband who walked into the kitchen like a deer in headlights

five miles on the treadmill after a great swim, espresso and brie in the afternoon, all the beautiful holographic vinyls for school stuff, a task lamp at my desk, a skirt and sleeveless turtleneck on sale

how the mantra (this isn't real) has helped me push deeper into training, a chat with Jackie at the kennel, the ridiculous ability to go into the deepest darkest places with people, when Michi called me and we both said we f*ing hate Satan, to have a Christian friend who you can be that honest with

math curriculum in the mail, watercolor brushes, a recipe for protein muffins that taste like cinnamon rolls, a really great day at an amusement park, finding a new favorite thrill ride

Erin and her friend in matching sweatshirts, a holiday mall visit and friends hanging out, softest jeans thanks to White House Black Market, scrambled eggs for dinner, that she blocked me and I knew her conditional love

for unconditional love that continues to smile and pray, for unconditional love that hopes, for fruit of the spirit in joy/peace/patience, new running shoes in mail and Shane said they looked like the color of circus peanuts and that made me think of my dad, for circus peanut candies that he liked to eat

a next school year on the horizon, longer night times, when Heather prayed for me and sent me song lyrics and that I was on her heart, chocolate smoothies with protein and creatine powders, lunch with Kellie for her 50th birthday

knowing who your people are (and aren't), January, Sarah P, grace, good sleep

Marshall's Mom troubleshooting on the holiday weekend, truth, how the next chapter wasn't what I expected and yet here we are, knowing that there were things planned in advance for me

confidence in Christ