Last week I got thrashed real good. Last night, I was about ready to trash the season and take up cooler, more comforable pursuits. Couldn't seem to get cool, even in an air conditioned room, until finally an ice pack was placed on my head and neck. Enough! I thought at that moment. Right then I believed that moment. I believed my fatigue was here to stay, I believed that I should stop this nonsense and do something else. After all, we are in a heat wave. It is ninety-four degrees with a heat index of a hundred and six at nine oclock in the evening. The moment says this is bigger and badder than I am: do something else cool!
Sluggishly I began my five mile run this morning. The heat came, the sweat came in buckets, but the new moment in me persisted. And I chose to believe in that moment, in that version of me, in all God had put in me.
There was no sparkling revelation in this new moment, only a knowing that seemed to run like a river current beneath all the moments good and bad. Back at the house, I signed up for two sprint triathlons and a seventy-five mile bike event, and booked reservations; quietly affirming my belief, not in the moment, but in the Knowing beneath it all.
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