Exercise. Anyone who knows me, knows how much this word and the act of, makes me cringe. There are many reasons I dont like it. Most of which are flat out pathetic excuses to not do something that is good for me. Why go to the gym where I know I will become sweaty, sore and tired; when I can sit on the couch, eat delicous unhealthy food and laugh while watching an episode of friends.
The biggest draw back to getting off my butt is because I am afraid (there is that word again) of the pain. The physical pain of being out of shape and the emotional pain of realizing how much work (ie physical pain) its going to take to get into shape.


I'm taking a class at my church called A Grace Experience. Its a class for women only on just that, Grace. Accepting and recieving. One doesnt need grace unless they have messed up. This class will allow us the opportunity to be open and honest with one another about areas we fall short, allowing our group to speak in us in truth and grace. Also read: EXERCISES that painfully and akwardly force us to share our crap...then something about truth and grace yada yada yada.


Each week, I have gone not wanting to be there. Its those exercises that bring fear (oh, hey there). Its because I know it will be painful. Who wants to talk about ways they have failed. Areas they are weak. Sin. It sucks. It hurts. Ive spent a life time trying to avoid it and in doing so, I have made it that much more painful.


As I was driving home from last weeks meeting thinking about how hard it is to be vulnerable with others a random story popped into my head. Actually, not random at all. Im believing that it was a God moment to help me understand what and why Im doing that.


Date: Some year while I was in elementary school
Location: The blacktop. Lunch time


I was never very good at sports- still am not. I was never fast enough, agile enough, or just plain talented enough. And that was ok. Im the one who likes to watch from the sidelines (and maybe that was why!). Im the one who "votes" for a team and confuses basetball and football teams.


Dodgeball was a staple during recess. I actually liked playing. I will still occasionally tell this story to showcase my cleverness. (HA)


Whenever I was on the team that was inside the circle, I would always stand as close to the edge as I could. The other team assumed 1. I was already out. or 2. I was on their team. Therefore they never threw the ball at me. After they thought they'd hit the final person Id jump out and be declared the victor!


Some thought it was a brilliant strategy. Others were mad because I wanst really playing the game. And they were right. I wasnt playing. I was in just enough not to be out. Being on the edge saved me from being hit. I didnt have to face the disappointment of being the first out...because I always was. This way I didnt have to be knocked down.


Cleverness had nothing to do with it. It was only because know one ever knew what team I was really on. I've spent my life not letting outehr know who I am. I particiapted just enough to give the impression that I am known. I do what I can from being knocked down and showing Im not good enough. I sit on the edge and watch as others live life, stepping in the circle only when necessary and pulling myself out as soon as I can.


Ive been spectating the game of life. Fear (old friend!) keeps me on the side. I need to learn that yes, I will be knocked down, hurt and at times not good enough. But Im not playing the game alone. My teammates are wanting to come alongside me. By not participating I miss out on THEM! I miss letting them help me up. And I forfit their ability to use their God given abilities.


Lord help me to risk and move to the center of the circle.