my anchored life:

He gimped into the kitchen this morning looking like a little old man.  He was wearing his blue house slippers and his bathrobe was tied loosely over his pajamas.  Under one arm he carried the book he hasn’t been able to put down all week and from the other dangled his water bottle.  “What’s up with you?” I asked.  “Why are you gimping around like that?”

“Mom! I can barely move!  My legs are so stinkin’ sore!  I’ve never felt anything like this in my whole life!! This is awful!” {Nate isn’t exactly our most dramatic child—except when he is.  He’s animated, and expressive and he has words for all the things.  Lots and lots of words.}

Yesterday he used about 7,362 of his words to tell me all about how they had to run 9 1/2 laps around the school for PE.  He said the total distance was “probably about a mile.  Yeah.  A mile.  But maybe less than a mile.” Nevertheless, they had to run this mysterious distance in under 8 min and he ran it in 7:10.  And then he biked home from school.  And then he biked to swim team, swam for an hour, and biked home.  And today he ‘paid the piper. ‘

Despite being slightly amused by his first experience with the jerk-face better known as “lactic acid,” I had mercy on his sweet, youthful soul and drove him to school this morning.  And all the way there he rehashed the entire story that led to this dreadful, agonizing feeling that had taken over his lower extremities and lamented the 2-hour karate class he would inevitably face this evening.

Since I’ve been around the block a time or two, I recognized immediately that he was working me in hopes that I would tell him he could skip his commitment to be in the dojo tonight.  Unfortunately for Nate, I’m just not that mom.  In fact, I’m the mom who is known for telling my kids, “It’s not my fault God didn’t make you first!” {Those of us who raise multiple kids know doggone well that we are neeeever as precious with the younger ones as we were with our firstborn.  We are older, wiser, and way too tired for that brand of nonsense.}

Nevertheless, when we got to the school, I pulled into an empty space, put the car in park, and looked deep into his eyes.  “Nathan,” I began, “I’m sorry your body feels this way.  I really truly am.  I’ve been there, kiddo and it just plain sucks.  It hurts.  And there’s no way around it.  But, listen up.  Because what I’m about to say will apply to every situation you face every single day for the rest of your life:  The only way through it, is through it.  There are no shortcuts through pain.  No quick-fixes for suffering.  There’s nothing easy about getting through hard things, ever.  Not physical suffering.  Not emotional heartache.  Not mental or spiritual or relational grief.  The only way through it, is through it.  And, eventually, you’ll realize that you didn’t just ‘get through it’….you’re actually a better you because of it.”

He looked at me and smiled.  He leaned in so I could kiss his head and I told him to have a great day.  I smiled as I watched him (rather melodramatically) gimp toward the school….

*********************

I’ve replayed this little exchange in my brain all day today.  So, this month, I’ve decided to try something a little different here in my sweet, little corner of the world wide web.  I’d like to spend this month using this space to talk about the things we find ourselves gimping through.

• Maybe it’s a season of transition–where everything around us is different and changing; in a constant state of flux and we are struggling to get our bearings.
•  Maybe it’s a season of grief–grieving the loss of someone or something that was literally the cornerstone of our foundation and suddenly the whole thing is simply crumbling.
• Maybe it’s a season of testing ourselves–a ‘checking in’ of sorts because we really do want to be working toward all those goals we set for ourselves back in January but we just aren’t quite ‘there’ yet.

Whatever your ‘season’ is, I’d love to hear about it.  I’d love to start a conversation and hear your thoughts.  Be brave.  Comment here on my blog, or on my Facebook page.  Or email me privately if there’s something you’d like to share, discuss, or a specific topic you’d like me to address throughout the month of February.

Obviously, I’m no scientist and I’m fairly certain the devil is the author of math so I have no hardcore evidence or data to back this up.  But it’s been my experience that it’s much easier to gimp our way through the seasons when we gimp through them together.

So, find a comfy seat and pour yourself a good, strong cup of coffee.  Join the conversation as we gimp our way through our anchored lives…together.