***YOLO and the Games Update***
To much soreness and strife, I completed the 3rd and 4th workouts of 5. The 3rd (14.3) had my name written on it. A combo of deadlifts with increasing weight and number and box jumps. I called this "the strong girl" race. I will not win a 5K...ever...but I can pick something off of the ground. Finished with 107 reps. However, I had a hard time walking vertically for several days post-workout. The 4th (14.4) was tough. Rowing, toes to bar, wall balls, cleans, then muscles-ups (which I only dreamt about attempting). Toes to bar were terrible on my left wrist and forearm for some reason. Didn't do as well as I would have liked, but finished with a score of 125. But to keep it into perspective, when I started CF at 6.5 weeks post partum, core strength was non-existent. I could barely lift my knees to my elbows. Now I can kip 5 toes to bar in a row (on a good day). Progress, right? If I never would have tried, I wouldn't have been able to see the improvement.
(I totally should be doing insurance paperwork filing claims from 2013 and finishing laundry while my kids are at pre-school and I wasn't scheduled to work. But this is way more fun and fulfilling.)
As I was pulling into my driveway this morning, I noticed that some of our trees are starting to bloom. I wasn't sure if that would be the case this year since Wichita Falls is in a terrible drought. Trees are dying. Plants are dying. We can't do any outdoor watering. I think our lakes are at 29% capacity (but don't quote me on that number even though my husband is on city council). I don't know if our grass is going to sprout this year. So I was kind of surprised to see little pink buds on our two Oklahoma Red Bud trees.
Springtime is my favorite.
A "typical" spring usually includes April showers that bring May flowers. Thunderstorms with drenching rainfall. Puddles and mud. Rain that washes the air clean and clear.
And then there are "atypical" springs. Like the ones we've had for the last 3 years. (Maybe this is our new "typical?") Gusty, dust-filled windstorms. Promising skies that don't deliver. Just enough sprinkles to get your car muddy. Dry, crunchy yards.
Yet, apparently we've been given just enough rainfall this year to bring forth some new life. I see those pink buds as little whispers of hope. Of new creation. Of what's to come.
And so it is with life I think. Some seasons are plentiful. There's an abundance of water...both literally and figuratively. It's easy to pay the bills. You and your mate are on the same team. Friendships are fulfilling. New growth and opportunities are around every corner. It's pretty easy to find hope, joy, and peace because there isn't much to capture your attention but goodness. And some seasons are dry. Money's hard. Marriage is even harder. Day to day becomes mundane and there are roadblocks at every turn. All you feel is dryness and heat bearing down on you.
But in the midst of the drought, when we look close enough, I know Jesus gives us little buds of promise. Whispers of hope that give us just enough to move forward with confident expectation of what is to come. Maybe it is a new friendship. Or an unexpected laugh with your spouse. Or somehow, your bank account has some leftover for the month. And in the dry seasons, we don't expect to find new growth...so we have to look for it...because I can assure you that those buds, though not abundant, are still there. The "God of hope" (Romans 15:13) gives us these things to get us to the next day. And ultimately, to point us to the beautiful hope we can have in His death and resurrection, and the promise of an undefiled eternity with Jesus.
Seasons are cyclical. This drought won't last forever. But I sure am thankful for a few pink buds to remind me of the promise of better days ahead.