A funny thing happened on the way to Thanksgiving

Fall is one of my favorite times of the year, but Fall in California is no where near as lovely as Fall in New England, where I am from. I do miss the beautiful leaves turning, en mass, but we do have leaves that turn. I nabbed this photo as we were driving, and the various shades of oranges put me into a thankful mode. God could have made everything all one color, but He's too generous with His gifts to do that. He's painted His glory in the trees, the leaves, the flowers, the mountains, and in our cells. If we stop for a moment to listen, we'll hear "glory, glory!" coming from all of creation. If we stop. If we listen. We'll realize that there's Someone, "with Whom we have to do."

This year for Thanksgiving we invited a whole bunch of people, but for various reasons, in spite of our best efforts, we are just going to be four of us this year. In one way, it is nice, because today is our 32nd wedding anniversary, and there's something very sweet and intimate about having it be just my daughter and son-in-law and us here to celebrate together, and be thankful. I have an ache in my heart because I'm missing my son and daughter-in-law very much today, but there is still so much to be grateful for. So, I'm counting my blessings today. I'm choosing to count my blessings, and not my sorrows, and to savor in the delights of a beautiful, clear, crisp fall day here in San Francisco.

Of course, the weather could quickly turn and we could get socked in with fog, but even if it does, that will be fine with me. For now, it is glorious, and pretty and I just saw a hummingbird flitting around outside the window again. The turkey is out on the Webber Kettle in the backyard, and my daughter is making her spectacular Apple Cranberry Pie with homemade vanilla pastry cream, and I'm wondering if I can possibly manage a tiny piece of it, without totally blowing my eating plan to smithereens. It is that good--I guarantee it--and my mother would be proud of what a proficient baker she's become.

I'm realizing more and more that God, by design, puts us by sovereign grace into the families we need to be in, just so we can have the best opportunity possible to acknowledge His love and Lordship, now while we can. (One day, everyone on the planet from potentates to paupers will acknowledge Y'shua as Lord, but on that day, for some it will be in fear and anger and out of compulsion, not in reverent worship and awe) So I'm thankful as never before for the family I grew up in, for the place of pain and heartache that He scooped me out of in His grace. I would never have known that I was so desperately needy of His grace and mercy, had I been born anywhere else--I'm convinced of it. I have much to be grateful for, and I'm determined to be grateful even if sin has marred some of my joys on this side of eternity. As Paul Tripp has said, we do live in a broken down house of a world because of sin. But there is a Redeemer, who has come to make our hearts new and rescue us. He's actively seeking those who know they need rescue and mercy. I count myself grateful to be needing His rescue even more than I ever did before.

Sweet Sleep of a child

Here's one for the true confessions department. This is a stealth photo. I took it while I was in my local Trader Joe's trying to get a little shopping in. The store was CROWDED with people, who had the same idea at the same time. It wasn't quite a madhouse, mind you, but it did take some fancy driving, as I negotiated my way down the crowded isles (my son would have been impressed!). But I saw something so lovely, so beautiful, that it stopped me in my tracks. In the middle of all that cacophony, I saw this little guy in his stroller, with his eyes closed, sleeping deeply. There was even a little whiffle I could hear, not quite a snore, as he breathed in and out, totally oblivious to the noisy adults all around him.

So I pulled out my i-phone, and as quickly as I could (and as close as I dared to get) I snapped a few shots. This was the best of the lot, which shows you how much of a Chicken Little I am by nature. The body attitude of this little guy reminded me of a Psalm that has become so precious to me in recent days, Psalm 131:

Psalm 131

Childlike Trust in the LORD.

A Song of Ascents, of David.

¹O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty;
Nor do I involve myself in great matters,
Or in things too difficult for me.
²Surely I have composed and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child rests against his mother,
My soul is like a weaned child within me.
³O Israel, hope in the LORD
From this time forth and forever.

This is just three little verses, but they are packed with meaning. These verses reveal how we can be at rest--even when our worlds are coming apart at the seams. We can rest in Him, lay back on Him, and in realizing how weak we are, rest in His strength alone.

I think of all the times my heart has been stirred up, and I realize as I read this Psalm that I must never forget that the Sovereign God of the universe is working all out for the good of His people, and for the glory of His Name, no matter how messy life is. He redeems us--and that work needs to go deep within our hearts, so we produce the kind of rest that Y'shua demonstrated as He walked on the earth, experiencing what we do, yet without sin. He was always at rest with the Father, even when his life was full of activity.

This Psalm has become my friend. When my heart is a mess, I'm going to this Psalm and taking the medicine. Do I need to jettison my pride? Do I need to give something too big for me to the One who can really handle it best? I do, and then I can rest, just like this little fellow, in the midst of the cacophony around me.

Keeping a promise

I swam today, and I'm dog tired. Perhaps it is because when I said to my beloved "I can't believe that we'll be married 32 years on Thanksgiving," he dead-panned with, "Imagine how much time that is in dog-years!" I looked at him for a moment and then totally broke up with laughter. My brain was too fried to figure it out, but one thought did cross my mind. That's one great piece of advice that my Mama gave me years ago, "Marry a man who makes you laugh!" I did, and he does and I'm constantly amused by my hubby's humor.

We can laugh together, and we can cry together. I'm grateful that we've grown so much that we rarely make each other cry, but we do cry over things that need crying and praying over, and I'm grateful that we can do it together. There's something powerful about praying together over those kind of things, and handing it over to Someone who knows the best way to deal with it. Our wedding verse was Proverbs 3:5-6 and it still is something we need to think about daily. Am I trusting in the Lord with all my heart? Am I leaning on His wisdom or my own understanding? Am I acknowledging Him in all my ways?
That's a lot to say grace over, but freeing as we work hard to apply it, and grow in His wisdom together. Even now--especially now in this season of life.

So, I'm keeping my promise by posting this blog. I'm making it short because I'm so tired, that I'm about to fall asleep on the keyboard! Our anniversary falls right on Thanksgiving this year. We got married on Thanksgiving weekend so many years ago, largely because of my beloved's work and school schedule. We had just a little weekend honeymoon, and then it was back to the grind. But instead of diminishing Thanksgiving by adding an anniversary to it, it has expanded our desire to thank the One who brought us together, and has kept us together all these years. We are still laughing. And when we cry, we hand each other the tissues, and wipe away each other's tears. I'm more grateful for that than I can tell you!

"Marry a man who makes you laugh," Mama said. I would add, "Marry a man with a heart--a heart for God, a heart for His Word, a heart for the hurting, and a heart of good humor." It's been my blessing to have had all those gifts in my beloved. Throw the confetti, folks! There is much to celebrate and I'm grateful to be married to my best friend.

No thanks--I'd rather have boysenberry!

I have to admit, that "traffic jam" is my least favorite kind of jam in all the world. This photo was taken from the passenger seat of our van just a few weeks ago, on a very sunny day, when my husband was driving me to Office Depot to get a new ribbon for our printer. We were totally out of black ink, and I desperately needed to print something. So, my hero came to the rescue, and drove us to the store, when he truly just wanted to get home and be done with driving for the day.

There are some who feel that "no good deed goes unpunished," a rather gruesome and cynical way of looking at life, in my estimation. However, when we ran into a traffic jam that looked like it was going to be endless, I began to fret. My husband can be incredibly patient--but it had been a very long day, and the last thing either of us wanted was to be stuck on the road waiting for the vehicle owners to remember that the gas pedal is the one on the right. I sighed and shot up a silent prayer, hoping for the best.

We crawled up the road slowly, a few inches at a time. And then we saw the flashing lights, the flipped over car, the fire truck, two police cars, some people standing on the road, and a paramedic vehicle. It was ugly, to say the least. Life in a fallen world. Shot up another prayer, and once we got past the wreck, people began to drive as if they knew how once again.
"Why, why? Tell me that it's human nature..." It's human nature to stare at car wrecks, train wrecks, and ring your hands in despair. Despair can become an ugly giant. "I would have despaired, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord, in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord, be strong let your heart take courage, yes, wait on the Lord."

That's the best counsel I can give, when your carefully laid plans get disrupted, by the worst kind of jam, a traffic jam. Pray, and wait. Be thankful that you can still move. Pray for the rescue crew, and for those needing rescue. Slow down, while you are at it. Be careful out there, please! The rainy season is just starting, so don't be in a rush. People who love you deeply will miss you greatly, if you act foolishly behind the wheel.

In the deep, once again

I had a chance to swim last Thursday and then on Saturday morning and again today, which was delightful. I think I'm back into a rhythm once again--at least I hope so. I'm so thankful that the ears have cleared up, and that I'm back at it because once you stop, it isn't so easy to get started (that old, "a body at rest remains at rest, a body in motion remains in motion" sort of thing from your high school physics class that you never paid attention to but now seems to make more sense than it ever did because YOU are the body!). Last week was such a busy, stressful week, and it was a gift to be able to swim and let it all go, and leave it all behind in the pool.

It is hard to pray while you swim. I lose count of what lap I'm on and to tell you the truth, because I do have a goal (to swim 50 miles by the end of December) I am trying to keep a fairly accurate count. I used to try to pray and count by doing some silly word associations: I'm thankful for You, the One God who is King of all. I'm thankful for the two tablets of the Law and how they tell us of your righteous standards. I'm thankful for the fact that you have revealed yourself as a perfect Echad, a unity of Three Persons in one glorious God...well, you get the picture. Unfortunately, I'm not always clever to figure out what I can say next in keeping with the Bible theme (especially when you get to lap 29+ you can paint yourself into a corner with your metaphors!) What usually happens is, if I don't remember what number I'm on, I do an extra lap, just in case.

The forecast said that it was likely to rain on Saturday and Sunday which dismayed us a bit because it is hard to move house in the rain, and that's what our daughter and son-in-love were going to be doing, moving house. The wonderful thing that happened was, that it did rain, but not until everything was moved. A small army of dear people helped, and I continue to be thankful for the community that God has gifted us with. It is wonderful to see the "one-anothers" of Scripture being lived out in practical ways through people who really want to follow the Messiah not just in words, but in deeds of love.

We were able to do our walk Saturday, but Sunday we woke up at 5 AM to the sound of a very hard rain hitting the windows and the skylight. It rained quite a bit--where did that glorious heat wave go when the Giants had their celebratory parade in the city, anyway? It felt like winter had arrived, and to be honest, I am not ready for it...not at all.

We had an unexpected gift--we wanted to walk and after we read the paper in the mid-afternoon, it seemed that there was actually some blue sky out there--enough for us to get our exercise shoes on and head down to the water before the weather changed its mind again. We did our entire walk, and looked out at the water, which kept changing, watching the play of the clouds. Then right before our eyes, the weather was turning again. The clouds were growing thick and dark, and my hubby said, "We'd better get going or we are going to get wet!" So, of course, I had to stop and snap this photo. It looked as if God was painting the sky again, using a scumbling brush to get the puffy, fluffy effect of those beautiful clouds.

Even with hooded sweatshirts on to keep our heads covered, the idea of getting wet wasn't appealing to my sweetheart, so he urged me to put away the phone and concentrate on walking. So I managed to snap this, and I really like it.

We can pray while we walk, and we do. We talk while we walk and the fact that we were able to have this unexpected time because the weather cleared and gave us a window was so very wonderful. Now that we've changed the clocks, it may not be so easy to do our evening walks--it is dark down there, and unfortunately, isn't very well lit. We'll have to figure out a clever work-around.

Professor Horner's Bible reading plan

This is a picture of my beautiful daughter, in her kitchen, with a tray full of beautiful bread that she made for her small group dinner. My girl is an amazing baker--my mother, who loved baking would be kvelling to know that her granddaughter is following in her footsteps. There is a notable difference however. Mama wasn't much of a cook, but she surely could bake. Challah, coffee cakes of various sorts, yeasty cinnamon rolls, cakes with streusel on top...well, you get the picture. My daughter is not just a good home cook--she's got the makings of an excellent chef, because she does things with a great sense of artistry and beauty. She takes simple ingredients, and turns them into an amazing feast in short order, and serves it all up with that great big beautiful smile of hers that lights up her whole face. She loves being a blessing to others, whether it is bringing food for the body or food for the soul. Quite honestly, she makes me want to be more like Y'shua !Isn't that a blessing and a half! :-)

Who doesn't love the smell of fresh baking bread? Who wouldn't love the chance to dig into a warm, crusty loaf with some lovely butter to spread on it? All right. Enough of this. I'm making myself hungry, even as I'm typing. There are four or five different sorts of breads on this tray (and they well all delicious--trust me on this one!). There was only one problem with this. The wonderful bread that you bake and eat, however delicious won't last in you. You'll get hungry again. The bread we enjoy from our ovens or local bakery is bread that won't satisfy forever.

Pursuing the real bread, the living bread that will last and keep you satisfied is something that our 21st century largely disdains. "Go for all the gusto you can, because that's all there is."
There's an answer to that: "The fool says in his heart that there is no God." "Seek the living bread which came down out of heaven."

God shows Himself in two ways, Psalm 19 declares. The heavens are constantly declaring His glory through the created world. If we respond with a heart that wants to know the One who made it, He will always, always, give us more light. He's faithful to do that because He wants us to live in His presence. In fact, "not by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God."

At the Reclamation Project conference this weekend I heard the most wonderful teaching on The Biblical perspective on Culture by Dr. Grant Horner. (That wasn't the only thing, but this post will be oppressively long if I let my self go off on a tangent about it!) The man is brilliant, but speaks as if he doesn't realize it--and that if he does, he's going to be careful to give all the glory and honor for any ability to God. A wise posture for all of us to emulate! This brother is a formerly drugged out, tripped out, messed up fella who was scooped into the embrace of the Messiah in such a way that he was totally surprised. God chose him, and wham, everything changed! He started to read his Bible voraciously and came up with a reading plan, which he shared in an aside as he was making a point. www.scribd.com/doc/12349985/Professor-Grant-Horners-Bible-Reading-System I wrote it down as a note, because he challenged us to Google it and try it for 30 days to see what would happen to our hearts through the living Bread. Well, I've taken the challenge, and I want to invite you to do the same.

Read what he says in his blog post about the system with an open mind. I think that this could rock our lives in a wonderful way, in a way we need at the core of who we are! I have longed to know God's Word in a way that is deep and systematic, and life changing (and I'm talking about my life, dear ones!). I have been praying for a way to understand, to be able to soak it in so I can share truth with confidence and clarity and I feel as if I've had a "Eureka!" moment as I was reading about this system. I actually was crying--"yes, yes!" as I was reading.

I believe that this is going to be a huge help to swimming out deeper into the amazing love of God shown in our Messiah. One of my friends from our church ladies Bible study told me that she was intrigued when Dr. Horner talked about it and she googled it, downloaded it and was tremendously excited as she had just started. This sister is one of those wise women who knows the Lord and loves His Word. She eats it like bread, and she was excited that this would help her grow deeper.

So, I've put the links in for you. You don't have to go hunting around for it. Just begin. Let's see together what God will do for us as we begin to feast on His Word. A significant quote from Dr. Horner's plan: "The key is to get into a habit for a month. Then you'll see you've probably been starving yourself....After just a few days the reading gets much easier; in a month it will be a habit, and in six months, you'll wonder how you ever survived before on such a slim diet of the WORD. And then--you'll tell others to start the system!!"

So I've started. Today is day two. If you choose to do this, let me know so I can root for you too.
And you and I read, read, read His Words of life, may we learn to be utterly satisfied and joyful in Him in a way we never dreamed of before. Because in His presence is fullness of joy, and all Scripture is God-breathed and as He breathes His life into us, we have shalom (we also have conviction over sin, but that's another post! you don't get to shalom without dealing with that).

And, yes, I do plan to go swimming this morning, but first things first!

http://www.the-reclamation-project.com/

RE: Long time no hear

Sometimes you spend time living life to the point where being on the internet seems like a waste of time. I'm grateful to be recovered from my post-trip ear infection which kept me out of the pool. And that's ok. I so much wanted to hit 50 miles by December, and I don't know if I'm going to make it or not. Perfectionism isn't all that it's cracked up to be, and quite frankly, I'm counting on the perfections of Another, my Messiah. I'm learning that I can rest in Him, really rest in Him. A brilliant book by Dr. David Powlison called "Seeing With New Eyes" has been a huge help to me. I am learning to look through the lens of Scripture in new ways, and that's really changing things. It's a bit of honey for the heart, as it were. So I'm writing to say that I'm thankful for so much today--and even thought there is much that is still slightly askew in my world (at least in the perfect world of my imagination, I am thankful that I can rest in the perfections of Y'shua. He's sees the end from the beginning, and is always at work. I'm still hoping to reach some goals that I've prayerfully set, but those goals don't seem nearly as important as learning how to love as He loves and walk as He walked. Goodbye, blah-ville. I'm taking the exit ramp ahead and don't intend to look back in the rear view mirror for any amount of money. :-)

That Stuffy Head Feeling

This photo was taken at Ocean Beach on October 2. The morning was misty and moist when I got up to go to the pool for a swim. I needed to go for a swim because I was about to go out of town for a few days, and I didn't think I'd be able to find a place to swim where I was going, or the time to actually get one. Still, even though I knew I needed to do it, I found that my enthusiasm was sadly in short supply. It was so hard to get myself into the pool that morning--I felt cold, and while I knew that once I started swimming that I would warm up, it took sitting on the side of the pool for a good five minutes to convince myself to take the plunge, already. I was so glad that I did--the endorphins kicked in when I was showering off afterward, and I had that great sense of well-being you get when you know that you've done something good for yourself that you were resistant to but did anyway. I had to fight for it though--that's what surprised me.

My hope was that after breakfast, the sun would come out and warm things up for our walk, but it was still kind of misty outside when my husband and I finally went out around 11:30 in the morning. We needed our jackets because it was cool, but we didn't mind. At first, when we got to the beach, we thought that we might not be able to get a parking place, there were so many cars! What in the world was going on? The beach was full of people with different colored t-shirts, in groups as if they were teams. There were people all over the place, walking along the water, and walking on the beach. There were tents and banners, and a lot of excitement with people energetically digging in the sand. We were walking past the annual sand castle contest at Ocean Beach. I saw a team of excited children from the elementary school a few blocks away from our house, wearing their "Robert Louis Stevenson" shirts with a great deal of pride, smiling and laughing.

I took this photo from the Cliff House as we were returning from our walk and it was still foggy around 1:30 in the afternoon. I hoped to post something a week ago Saturday, but simply ran out of energy and time. I was too busy living life to be blogging, I guess! I was also getting ready for an early morning flight the next day, and had to pack. More about that later, but I simply wanted to post this tonight. I haven't been back in the pool since the 2nd, but not because I haven't wanted to. Sometimes your best laid plans go astray. I came back from my trip with a virus and have to wait till my ears clear up to swim. I haven't felt like doing very much since last Thursday, when this virus caught up to me and knocked me off my feet. At some point, I hope to swim. Right now, my eyes are watering, which is about as "swimming" any of me is going to get, for a while, I suppose.

Swimming through deep waters

Dealing with grief feels like swimming through deep waters--where you are at the bottom and keep moving, moving, moving towards the surface, hoping that you get there before your lungs explode. Gasping and flailing about, you are grateful that you made it up for the breath you were dying for, because you thought that you just weren't going to make it. ("Just when you thought it was safe to go into the water...")

Ever since the high holidays I have been hit with fresh waves of grief over the loss of my brother. It surprised me. I've been doing pretty well, and have been at peace for the most part. Every so often, I'd get surprised by a wave. This one almost knocked me down today. I have had to cling to all of the Scripture I know about God's goodness and faithfulness. I have to speak the truth to myself, because self-pity lurks in the corner, ready to grab me round the neck like Gollum, trying to take back his "precious."

But I stand with Job--"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!" "Shall we only accept good from God and not evil?" "But I know that My Redeemer lives and one day in my flesh I shall see God."

Job's greatest grief was not for the loss of his goods, but the loss of his children. Ten of them to be exact. Yet Job still looked to his faithful Creator. He trusted, and God restored Job and transformed him in the bargain. So much greater grief than I can imagine, than I've ever known.

Today I didn't really want to swim. I called my husband who encouraged me. I freely admitted that I was out of sorts and needed to "go soak my head." He encouraged, and when it was done I found that it helped. It took much longer than usual. I wasn't gliding with glee like a fish. Each arm and leg felt like lead weights, but I pressed on.

What really helps is knowing that no matter how I feel, because of Y'shua, I belong to God and He is mine. He won't give up on me if I'm having a bad, sad day. He's the Man of Sorrows who is acquainted with grief. He bore all my griefs and has carried my sins and sorrows. He has been faithful at every turn, even when I've been faithless. He continues to amaze me, and give me songs in the night. And sometimes when the night dares to invade the daytime, He provides new songs in the daytime, too. But the song I most want to sing is the one when all of us are together singing the praises of the Lamb who was slain before the foundations of the world. I don't think it will be long now...

Sun Shine on the water

I've decided that I will try to write every time that I swim (that is, as long as I have access to my computer). I'm a recovering perfectionist so I don't want to box myself into too tight a corner. I do want to be writing more, and today has been a good day for writing, and doing things that just needed to get done (the dust bunnies were threatening to take over the world, just like Pinky and the Brain, and almost succeeding!). Today was a busy day, but I was able (and grateful) to get into the pool for the morning swim. The sun was shining beautifully through the windows (the Sava Pool re-d0 has a really wonderful design), so as I was swimming, the sunlight was shimmering on the water, warming it, refracting the light in beautiful patterns in the ripples and making it extra pleasant, almost an artistic experience to be there. The pool was crowded for the morning swim, I suppose because it is so much easier to get into a bathing suit and into the water when it is sunny and beautiful than when it is foggy and cold (the usual here in San Francisco).

I am amazed at some of the older women I swim with. I am one of the "kids" in comparison--many of them are in their 70's and 80's, but here they come, a few of them as many as five days a week to swim. They are beautiful and totally without a hint of self consciousness regarding their bodies.

"My arthritis doesn't hurt so much when I move," says one. "I like the way I feel when I am done with my swim--it fills me with energy," says another. The voices are full of cheer as they enter the locker room and call out their greetings, and as the answers come back. "Good morning, ladies!" "Hey, sweetie, great to see you here today!" There is a wonderful energy of community, and shared anticipation that fills the locker room. No one cares what anyone looks like and that is tremendously liberating. They do notice new bathing suits, and make the appropriate comments of admiration, but there's a remarkable lack of cattiness that I find utterly refreshing. The first time I came to the pool, I was amazed at how "at ease" they all seemed to be in their bodies. No matter what their shape or size, whether tall and slender or sort and squat, they are beautiful women and I have come to admire them so much. They are helping me "get over" myself, and I am grateful. When I think of not going to the pool, I think of these women who are so eager to swim, and tell myself, "you have no excuse, girlfriend!"

How beautiful they all look, with their bathing caps on, their cute little swim shoes, and glowing smiles on their faces. One lady who must be in her late 60's had on a pretty wrap for her hair, a la Betty Grable. She looks like an old school movie star, in her leopard print bathing suit. She elegantly makes her way to the side of the pool, grabs a kick board, and launches into the water. There are some older gentlemen as well who swim, too. Some of them work hard to energetically swim as many laps as they can. Others make no bones about the fact that their real reason to be at the pool is to socialize with their friends (and possibly girl-watch?).

There is one man who is a very serious swimmer, who reminds me of my friend Stephen--at least what I imagine Stephen might look like in 20 years or so. He's very fit, and muscular, and is an incredible athlete, even though he's got to be at least 70 if he's a day. You'd never know how old he was if you could watch him swim (and if you didn't see the grooved laugh lines on his face). He's a dynamo! This gentleman has the same facial shape as my friend and when he smiles, he exudes kindness that seems heartfelt and genuine. When I see him, the strong resemblance makes me sad, momentarily, but I push away the feeling. This gentleman has seen me swimming for months now, and has been kind enough to try to encourage me, inquiring as to how many laps I'm doing. He loves swimming and loves to encourage those who are just starting out.

There's a common grace all of us are sharing, the kind of benevolence that God pours out where "His mercies are over all His works." It's a gorgeous day, and unseasonably warm and beautiful. What a gift! I'm especially recognizing this today and praying for blessing on these dear folks.

A Perfectly Beautiful Saturday

After an incredibly grueling week, we were given a perfectly beautiful Saturday as a gift from heaven. Since I was up early, I headed to the pool, while my husband got some well deserved rest. Swimming always seems to help me feel better physically, and while I've set myself a six month goal of 50 miles in the pool, I'm not trying to be insane about this. But up I was and so I went swimming.

It's hilarious to me to see some of these young guys at the pool, who are in the medium lane when they should be in the fast lane. They thrash and flail and try to look as impressive as they can while they are swimming but some of them aren't much on endurance. I'm not built for speed, but I am growing in strength. One of these fellows looked at me in amazement when I kept going easily after he stopped. Who knew I'd ever be able to do anything like this?

It was a gorgeous sunny day, and very warm here in San Francisco, and after our breakfast, we took our walk by the water. Practically everyone had the same idea--it's warm, let's hit the beach! In addition there was a community beach cleanup event and the ROTC kids from Balboa high school were marching together with their advisers. In short, people were everywhere! Thankfully, Steve's parking karma kicked in so we easily found a spot, and it wasn't long before we were sitting at the top, at the Land's end overlook, with a gorgeous view of the Golden Gate bridge. We talked and people watched and then Steve surprised me.

We drove towards Half Moon Bay, and Steve borrowed a great idea from our friend Bill--we went to the Fitzgerald Marine Preserve to see the tide pools. We hadn't been there since our kids were young and it sounded perfect to me. Beautiful weather, clear skies and warm, too. We didn't time it properly so the tide pools were covered with water, but in the water, playing around were a bunch of seals. They were having a great time, and we were enjoying their antics a great deal, when our friends found their way to the marine preserve and we got to hang out with them a little while.

Our stomach clocks had gone off, so we decided to continue our drive, but got as far as Princeton by the Sea, and saw that the road to Half Moon Bay was clogged with traffic. Not our idea of a good time. So.... we turned into Princeton by the sea and we found that the fishing boats were in. We did a little exploring and ended up seeing some beautiful, fresh Dover Sole. Someone asked the guys on the boat if they had been up since early in the morning. "We've been up for three days!," one of them said, flashing a big grin.

Oh those fish were beautiful. So beautiful that we were suddenly thinking of dinner. We picked out a beautiful Dover Sole and the guys bagged it up for us with ice. Then we walked it over to this place where they will clean your fish and fillet it for you for a mere $3.00. That's definitely a bargain as far as I am concerned. Cleaning fish is a really messy business, and would put you off actually eating fish unless you had a strong constitution. So with our prize fillets in hand, we made our way home. We both were glad that this particular fish didn't "just keep swimming."
It was the best fish I've had in a very long time, and certainly the freshest. This might turn my husband into a fish lover!

You've got to start sometime!

When I was in high school, the one class I absolutely loathed was gym class (This is not counting Mrs. Y's algebra class, of course--she put me off math for years!). Whydid you loathe PE, you ask? Our gym teacher kept trying to get me to do things that my body simply wasn't designed to do! Running isn't easy for a person with one leg a bit shorter than the other, so I was always one of the last runners trying to do the mile without keeling over. It wasn't much help that I had chronic asthma and bronchitis at that point in my life, either. Nope, running wasn't so good to me. Gymnastics? I loved the uneven parallel bars, but as for the rest of it, who could do it? Skinny little girls who took gymnastics, that's who. Sadly, this didn't even begin to fit my physical description. There were only two things from my gym classes that I really loved: folk dancing and swimming. We had opportunities to do both for gym that were tantalizing and all too brief for my taste.

There's a pool not too far from my house here in San Francisco, and my doctor suggested that I try swimming while I was recovering from a foot injury. The first time I found it hard to do ten laps in an hour. That was about 2 years ago. Now, I'm able to swim a mile in an hour (that's 36 laps back and forth in our pool), which truly amazes me.

I love the water--I love the feeling I get as I move through one stroke at a time. It is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. It feels free, and it feels so joyous--something I was meant to do. I don't feel out of shape and overweight in the least when I'm swimming. Now, if my gym teacher had been smart and really wanted to help, she would have said to herself, "OK, we aren't going to make a gymnast of her, but she loves folk dancing (even if she is a klutz) and she is a fairly good swimmer. Why don't we let the girl just keep swimming?"

Hence the name of my blog. This is a celebration of sorts and I hope that the words that I write will encourage you to get off your chair and into the pool. Or to go on, take that dance class already, get off your chair, dear couch potato and just get moving while you can! I've discovered that there's a freedom that comes from getting over yourself and just getting in the pool. Who cares how you look in that bathing suit? If you are lap swimming, no one, I repeat no one gives a rip about how you look. Lap swimmers only care about how many laps they can complete before the whistle blows. That's the truth!

So here's to freedom of all kinds. Especially the kind that let's you know that because of Y'shua, the label "fat girl" isn't an eternal one. Yes, Y'shua. Because Y'shua, the Jewish Messiah is the one who lovingly prodded me to get into the pool, using my hilarious doctor to do it. While Dr. "S" may have made the suggestion, Y'shua gave me the shove into the waters. And like every step of faith, this one has brought some new things that have been unexpected and delightful, but not always easy.