Sometimes We Just Have to Get In the Pool

I am embarrassed to tell you how many months have elapsed since I used my gym membership. I don't even want to tell you how much I am paying each month for the ability to not go to the gym just because I don't feel like it. It's pretty ridiculous, really.

But yesterday, suddenly I got the urge to strap on my tennis shoes and head to the YMCA. After all, my experiment on calorie-burning-while-couch-sitting had failed miserably.

Not only did I go to the gym, but I did something even crazier. I brought my bathing suit.

I hit the treadmill first, staying on it just long enough to show the very fit old man behind me that I have no endurance at all. "Ha!" I thought to myself as I saw his smirk from my peripheral vision, "You think I'm all done, don't you?"

But, no, I wasn't done yet. I sauntered over to the stationary bike. Hoping that the seat was already at the right level for my 5'4" self, I mustered up the confidence to hop on.

Exercise has never really been my thing. As many times as I've longed for the desire to get my heart pumping, I just haven't been able to get passionate about it. The stationary bike was no exception. I pedaled for 3.3 miles (which isn't really very far on a bike, I've found) and tossed a big smile over my shoulder before heading out into the hallway. My biggest hurdle was in front of me; it was time to swim.

Only one thing remained between me and my intended laps in the pool: the big picture window complete with chairs and tables for the viewing pleasure of all the people who don't want to get in the pool themselves.

Step one: Check the status of the spectator area. Thankfully, it was empty.

Step two: Look to see how many people are in the pool. Are there super-in-shape-with-perfect-bodies swimmers gliding up and down the lanes? I was grateful that the pool was pretty empty.

So I changed into my suit and walked into the pool area. I slid in quickly and took a few breaths to acclimate my body to the cool temperature of the water.

"All right," I thought. "This is it. Remember everything from your 10th grade swim class in gym and you'll be fine."

I started off well. My front crawl felt strong and the water was soothing.

About half way across the pool, I found out why swimming is classified as one of the best types of exercise. It is HARD!

But you know what? I did it. I swam 28 lengths of the pool in a little over thirty minutes. I did the front crawl and the breaststroke, the back crawl and the sidestroke. It wasn't pretty, I can tell you that. I'm sure I amused the lifeguard, though I couldn't tell because my goggles were all fogged up. Sometimes I hit the plastic lane dividers and sometimes I had to stop and cough all the water out of my lungs, but I did it.

Reading and studying the Bible can feel a lot like that. It doesn't seem appealing, so you don't really find the time to start. It's intimidating, even harder to do with people watching or around Christians who have studied for years. When we open the Bible, sometimes we get nervous not knowing where to start or how much to read of a certain passage. We can find ourselves cruising through only to come to a complete stop at a verse that we just don't understand.

Perseverance and dedication are the key to exercise, and they are the key to our Bible study. We just have to decide to do it, not worrying about whether or not it's going to be perfect. The only way to get better is to do it in the first place, and there is always something more that we can learn.

I felt so good after swimming. I had accomplished my goal and couldn't wait to do it again. I've had the same feeling when I dig into God's Word...though I'm the one who has to make the initial decision, the beauty and depth of His Word draws me back time and time again.

Sometimes we just have to get in the pool.

In This Season

It struck me this morning that I am always looking forward to something other than what I have. Longing to have the days of diaper changing and toddler tantrums behind me, I forget to appreciate the beauty of this season of my life.

In this season:

I have a sink full of dirty dishes, but I have a table filled with children;

I have laundry exploding from the rafters, but I have little girls changing their clothes ten times as they put on a fashion show for their siblings;

I have hand prints all over my windows, but I have baby-hands banging on the glass in a display of pure excitement that Daddy is home from work;

I have to make seven sandwiches for lunch, but all my kids still live at home;

I have to take an appointment with my oldest daughter so she can schedule me between her phone calls and text messages, but she still comes to me first when she needs advice;

I have to wait until 8:00 to have any alone time with my husband, but during the day the house is alive with the result of our love for each other;

I have toddlers sitting on me and children pulling me in every direction, but some day there won't be anyone left who longs to snuggle in my arms singing lullabies.

This season is so precious, and as difficult as the days may be, it is so short.

I don't want to sit on the fence anymore. I don't want to alternate between wishing I'd done more in my past and longing for the future.

I'm going to love every today.

She Speaks Scholarship

Growing up, I always wished I could go back and change things in my life; choices I made, mistakes I stumbled through, things that happened to me that I longed to profess ignorance of. The pain and guilt threatened to overwhelm me.

I couldn't understand why God would allow my past to be riddled with so many potholes, so I tried blocking everything out. I was a new creation, the old is gone and the new has come. As far as the east is from the west, so far was that person from who I am now in Christ.

But there was a problem. As hard as I tried, I couldn't forget. I asked for forgiveness, I gave forgiveness, but I couldn't forget.

It was in one of my darkest, most difficult moments that I realized there was a reason I couldn't black out who I used to be.

That lonely, hurting girl...the child who lied and hurt others in order to mask her imperfections; the teenager who put a knife to her skin in a vain effort to bleed out the emotional pain...her journey from darkness to light is who I am.

God created me. He doesn't like the things I've gone through, and He doesn't cause my pain, but He gave me life and purpose.

He knew that I would tutor at-risk teenagers in college. He knew that I would have a child with autism. He knew that I would become a foster parent, just as He knew the names and faces of all twenty two children who passed through my home. He knew that we would adopt three children who needed a mother who understood grief and pain.

He knew that there were people out there who needed to know they weren't alone.

I am grateful every single day for the desire God has given me to write and speak. When I am standing in front of a group of women and sharing my teachings and stories, I see God's hand on every aspect of my entire life.

I've gone from being depressed about my difficult periods to being thankful. God got me through them, and now I can stand as a testimony to His forgiveness and grace. I can stand and say that He held me in the palm of His hand until I was ready to stand in His presence.

I want to give back.

A few months ago, I bookmarked the site for the 2010 She Speaks Conference. I checked it weekly all through December and into January. When the information finally came out, I was ecstatic. This was my opportunity to learn more about something I am so passionate about; my opportunity to be among women who share one of my deepest desires.

The cost was more than I thought it would be. And though I felt God was leading me to attend, I couldn't reconcile the cost of the travel and conference with the daily costs of raising seven children. And so I prayed..."Lord, if it is Your will that I go, show me the way."

Yesterday my friend emailed me to tell me that there are three scholarships available through Lysa TerKeurst's site. To apply, you need to write a blog entry describing why you wish to attend the She Speaks conference.

It was the doorway I was praying for. Now I pray that the Lord will open or close the door as is His will. For there is no door He has opened for me that did not contain blessing, and there is no door He has closed that didn't have a reason.

Thank you for reading. God bless you.

Peanut Butter on my Shoulder

I was getting ready for Bible study this morning, flittering around the house and trying to get everything organized as Aimee and James finished their breakfast. I gathered my son's small shoes and bent down to slip them on his feet. As he pressed his little face into my arm for balance, I remembered what my study today had taught me...and I took just the smallest second to be thankful for my son.

As I stood to repeat the task for Aimee, I noticed that James' huge smile was covered in the peanut butter from his toast.

The peanut butter that was....yep, now on my shoulder.

Any other morning it would have been enough to send my world spinning. I didn't want to change my clothes, I was ready to go! Any other day, my mood would have shifted. I would have gotten impatient in my frustration, and I would have watched as my beautiful boy's smile melted into tears. Any other morning I would have wondered why everything always has to happen to me.

Not this morning. With the lesson on being thankful for the little things so fresh in my mind, I stayed calm. I didn't panic; I didn't get angry. In fact, I found out that warm little-boy peanut butter washes right off happy-mommy shirts.

As I ran a warm washcloth over James' sweet face, I thanked God for my little boy.

Thank You that he is here. Thank You that he is healthy. Thank You that he has been given a life free from the complications of autism. Thank You that his smile makes me forget all the little frustrations in my life.

Sometimes we get peanut butter on our shoulders.

Sometimes it wipes off without a fuss and we go on about our day.

Sometimes we're left with a little smudge that only we can see.

Sometimes we have to change our clothes completely, replacing them with an outfit that doesn't match the image we always dreamed we'd have. But, in time, our perspective changes. It isn't about who we were before the peanut butter anymore; it's about how thankful we are to be able to move forward with our new dreams. I think of Joseph, I think of some of my friend's children...CiCi, Luke, Kieran, Jessi, and Jared. Families who have days where they are swimming in peanut butter.

We all have these moments. It's how we handle them that herald our successes or disappointments. I hope I remember the feelings that bubbled inside me as I calmly walked Aimee and James to the car. I hope I remember to be thankful for all things.

Because happiness, contentment, and gratitude are so worth throwing away the quest for perfection.

Glimmer Shine

So I got a call yesterday. In the middle of one of the worst days of a very long time, my friend Angie wanted to know if I could do her a favor. More specifically, she wanted to know if I could replace her MOPS speaker who had canceled, and by the way, she was supposed to speak in six hours.

My day was kind of already a mess. Literally and Figuratively.

It was the kind of messy day that resulted in the florist knocking on my door with a dozen roses from my husband who really, really doesn't like it when I am sad. They were beautiful; I was not so pretty.

But I really like Angie. She's a sweet friend and I wanted to help. So I said yes.

And promptly thereafter, I panicked.

My kids were crabby, the baby didn't nap, the house was a mess, I was irrationally sad about being irrationally angry about some stupid point I had tried to make when arguing with Steve that morning, I had to bring Shaylee to therapy, I needed to drop Kayanna and Aliegha off at church, I had a meeting to attend....and I couldn't find my speaking notes from a year ago, which I thought was the only hope I had of any semblance of sanity.

So as I was running around the house looking like the comedic relief on some sitcom, my friend Rebecca called.

I love Rebecca. There are many things I like about her, but one of the most beautiful things about her is her love for the Lord.

I think I talked to her for thirty two seconds, enough to get out that I needed to speak at the last minute and had no idea what I was doing, before she started praying.

I don't think I've ever prayed on the phone before. Why have I never prayed on the phone before???

It was my glimmer.

We only talked for three or four minutes. But those few moments gave me the foundation for the rest of the day. The building looked pretty horrible, but the foundation was rock solid.

For most of the rest of the afternoon, I sulked and groaned. I couldn't find my notes. I had no idea what to talk about without those notes. I didn't want to cancel, but I didn't want to look like a complete moron either. I didn't want to cancel, but I didn't want to look like a moron...I didn't want to cancel, but...well, you get the idea.

Steve reassured me that everyone would understand if I couldn't follow through. They knew I only had a small amount of time to prepare, I could tell them that I just couldn't find my notes. Everything would be okay, he promised.

But I didn't have peace. Something Rebecca had prayed during that phone call kept ringing through my mind. "God, we know that this was Your plan, that You have a reason that You want Crystal to speak tonight."

And so I found myself standing in front of my old laptop whose documents I had already searched a hundred million times. My wonderful, sweet husband took the baby in the back room so I could concentrate. In that moment before the computer flickered to life, I realized that I needed to stop trying to be in control of everything.

"All right, God," I prayed. "I feel like You want me to do this. Please help me find my notes."

It was short and simple. It was a cry of desperation.

But that glimmer from earlier in the day started to shine. I felt calm physically and spiritually.

And just as I came to the realization that God would get me through my speaking engagement even without my notes, I found my notes.

My topic entitled, "Overcoming Guilt" was in a file labeled "Devotion." How appropriate that I would find it there.

The rest of the night was wonderful. Everything came together, I enjoyed speaking to a wonderful group of ladies, and I went to sleep smiling.

It's those glimmer-to-shine moments that remind me that God loves me. Even when I feel ugly inside, He reminds me that I have the privilege of reflecting His beauty.