A grateful heart

Thanksgiving.

A holiday with the meaning right in the name. A day of giving thanks. And yet I saw so much division on social media over Thanksgiving this year.

I have an opinion. On everything. From Black Friday shopping on Thanksgiving to politics to gay marriage to abortion to home school to child raising methods to ways to cook a turkey. But having said that, they are my opinion. In some cases they are Biblically based. In others, they are cultural, based on my upbringing and in some, they are just how I feel.

And how I feel about Black Friday??? You do what you want. I will too. How I feel about Black Friday starting on Thursday? Again, you do what you want, and I will too. I know that people had to work so others could spend. But I saw comments on both sides of that, people happy for the opportunity to make money. Retail isn't the best pay, and for a single person, that might have been a pretty big deal. But some people don't need the hours and were forced to work. I get that that sucks.

I didn't shop at all yesterday or today. Don't usually on Black Friday. Not because I am opposed to it, (or think that "it's what's wrong with America", lol) but just because I didn't need or want anything that was a door buster or big enough savings to drive me out of the house.

I do think that saying it's what's wrong with America is stretching it just a little. Unemployment, fatherlessness, alcoholism, drugs, the knockout game, prison crowding, overall immorality? Hunger, homelessness, apathy. Maybe I think too much about things. Maybe I should stay away from social media.

This Thanksgiving I realized Wednesday as I went to the grocery store to pick up the stuff I forgot (ingredients for Whitney's macaroni and cheese) that I was also missing a grateful heart.

I could list for days the blessings I have, the things to be thankful for.

So I adjusted my attitude, I focused on the blessings I have.

And I had a wonderful holiday.

Does that make me crazy?

I bought new towels. Whitney picked them out. They are striped short ways instead of long ways.

Every time I unfold one to use it when I get out of the shower I suffer a brief moment of confusion.

Marathon training

The 6th running of the turkeys.

When we were talking at training one day Chris asked when the next race was because we hadn't trained on Saturdays because of Steve's races. We told them Turkey Trot, but since it was on a Sunday it wouldn't affect Saturday morning. There was interest in the race, and when our whole group including Marquis said they would run the 2 mile, Steve and I stepped our plans down from the 10 mile to the 2, Sheila agreed, and there we all are.

Mark is recovering from a strained muscle in his hip from cross country, the boy can bust out 5 minute miles, but he stayed with Emily and Whitney and Chris, (Chris is his principal at school).

The last 100 yards a young man began to sprint for the finish. Mark sped up next to him. Young man sped up again, Mark matched him, and then at the end finally sprinted and left this poor kid in the dust.

Here's why I shared that story. I ran the whole race chasing my group. Other than Steve, I'm probably in the best running shape of the group. Sheila could've ran off and left me, Marquis, but they stayed with me. The youngsters got ahead, but stopped 200 yards from the finish and waited so we could finish as a group.

Whitney said at the mile turn she started struggling, she was happy to have that break. Marquis was dogging it a little bit, but he finished easily.

I chased everyone. Sprinting effort wise to keep up.

While everyone thought I was struggling because I was at the back, I really wasn't. I was running in the grass to pass people, and my knee is still much better on flat surfaces, not uneven ground. That made me nervous. I'm also still not where I was speed (if you can call my pace speed) wise before knee surgery. I expect to be better than I ever was going forward, though. I could've ran another 5 miles. With the exception of Steve and Sheila, everyone in the group was done at 2 miles.

Appearances can be deceiving. Mark probably made that kid mad. And Mark could've been top 3 in his age group.

I have to be careful not to compare my self to others, but only measure my progress. It's not measured in speed or distance. It's not measured in whether I was faster than last year. Progress? This marks the 6 year I've ran this race. 4 times 10 miles, 2 times 2 miles. It's not monumental. It only matters to me. But it's a sign of progress. It's a marker on the time line of my life when I started making my health a priority. When I found something I love to do.

My mental, emotional and physical health are all so much better. That is progress.

Does that make me crazy?

Yes, these do.


I really hate seeing these posted by young(ish) women. Why are you apologizing and putting yourself down to then tell everyone how great you are??? Where is the need in that?

Placing value on someone based on their looks is so wrong. It just is. There's so many other things to dislike people for! JUST KIDDING!!!

I work with a man who is a classic case of male chauvinist pig. He is a sexual harassment case waiting to happen. He sits two desks from me. I put up with him, ignore him, tell him he's offensive, once I even told him I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. And now, none of the comments are directed at me. My poor female co-workers laugh and to some extent egg him on. So I pretend I don't hear it. But I hate that men objectify women. Judge them by their cup size or their age or how they look in a skirt.

I do appreciate being treated like a lady. That doesn't mean that when it's time to throw that box of paper on the cart I don't do it, because I'm in better shape and I'm stronger then most of the men I work with, some of them are one step away from a heart attack. Being treated a lady doesn't mean you get treated weak.

So I wrote one for me.

I am beautiful. I am loved. I am created unique and special. I am forgiven. I am a princess.
Because I am a daughter of the King.

I don't need to be sexy. I don't need to be perfect. I don't need men's approval or compliments, especially not on my appearance.
Because the Lord is my shepherd, I HAVE EVERYTHING I NEED.

Skinny is never my goal, just healthy and fit. And I work at that, I will change me.
I will not be the same "me" tomorrow (internal or external) that I am today.
Because he who started a good work in me is faithful and will complete it.