Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Week 11: SAS!

I am a clown.  Now, I know that this will not come as a surprise to many people!  I tend to walk on the weird side and am completely OK being a fool for Christ.  However, the kind of clowning I am referring to is Christian Clowning.  White faces to signify dying to oneself to "put on Christ".  Movement and music to convey the message God choose to give to his people.  I am blessed to be inparted with this gift.
I have taught many people clowning, some willingly and some unwillingly.  It's always fun to watch the reactions as I teach someone who is not graceful to be graceful.  I have had the opportunities to work with some amazing people who had a gift for this ministry.  I have also been challenged to work with those whose response to my teaching led others to believe that they were being held against their will.
Perhaps the best compliment that I have ever received came from a young man who, after completing a very somber song about the crucifixion and resurrection, told me "You've found my inner clown!".  I tuck that away in my heart for darker days.
In all travels to teach clowning and all of the people that I have had the chance to be in ministry with, I have stumbled across a contagious, fast-growing affliction.  It seizes the victim and renders them unable to raise their arms in praise.  I have named it SAS, "Saggy Arm Syndrome".  It strikes without regard for age or gender. SAS can be transient depending on the sleep deprivation level and snack intake.  I am working diligently to form a foundation whose sole focus will be to irradicate this disorder and am looking for a date to schedule a walk to raise awareness of SAS.
My strong feelings come from my firm belief that God made most of us with the ability to raise our arms straight up to praise Him.  God gives us everything; we can give Him all of our praise.  I am not only the head of SAS, but I am also a sufferer.
The biggest clowning ministry program we share is our Good Friday service.  Hours of preparation and practice are put in to depict Jesus' ministry, crucifixion and resurrection that bought our salvation.  For too many years, I had taken for granted the ability to raise my arms all the way above my head and walk.  That all ended this year during Holy Week when I decided, in a moment of irrational thought, to start my personal training sessions.  As I walked into the gym for my first session with my personal trainer (PT), he asked me if I was ready for this.  I gulped and honestly said, "no".  Never has a truer word been spoken!  PT worked me so hard that day I almost didn't make it to the car.  That was a walk in the park compared to the tight muscles and pain I enjoyed throughout the rest of the week.  Every day brought a new ache and I tried everything to get some relief - cold packs, hot packs, ibuprofen, prayer - to no avail.  The second session, which fell on Maundy Thursday, PT showed me some stretches that helped me bend my arms and my legs.  By Good Friday, I was marginally functional and ready to put on the white.  I am not proud to say that I did succomb to SAS that week. It was a dark day for me.  However, PT did promise that the first workout would be the toughest.  PT needed to see how far I could be pushed.  Every workout after has been easier than the first day. I have still had workouts that have left me tired and/or sore, but I compare them to the first day and realize it's only mild discomfort.
Due to PT's schedule, we have begun training one day a week at 6 a.m. Yes, that's right -- in the morning.  This is not ideal, but the up side is that I am at the gym for half an hour before I realize where I am!  This week I wandered in to the gym, hopped on a stationary bike to warm up and await further instruction.  I didn't have to wait long.  PT announced that we were going to do some bench pressing today.  I would have been less surprised if PT had told me that I was going to learn how to build a combustion engine!  If my training sessions have taught me (and PT) anything, it's that I have very little upper body strength.  I am impressed at just how weeny I really am.  I am now very envious of children going across the monkey bars supporting all of their body weight with their arms.  I got up and followed PT to the weights.  After some basic instructions, which included "don't drop it on your throat" - which was an important safety tip - I was handed the bar.  Without extra weights added to the sides, the bar weights 45 pounds.  That means 22 pounds per arm. (I am not really sure where the other pound goes.  I'm still looking for it.  I will keep you posted.)  PT lowers the bar and I use every ounce of arm strength not to drop it on my throat!  Wow, 45 pounds is really heavy when you are laying on your back supporting it with your non-existent arm muscles.  I did some reps and the bar wobbled as I hoisted it up and down.  I am sure it wasn't pretty, although it may have been humorous to bystanders.  Push ups from a standing position and more weight lifting with a crazy, bendy bar were interspersed with three minutes on the bike.  After the abdominal weight machines, I was dismissed to cool down and start the rest of my day.
Oh my gracious!  My arms didn't really hurt, but the muscles were so fatigued that I could barely lift my gym bag and carry it to the car.  At home, I jumped in the shower only to find that I had Stage 4 Saggy Arm Syndome.  It was easier to lower my head to my waist to shampoo and condition my hair than it was to raise my arms to reach my head.  Good thing I don't have a long, involved hair styling routine or I would have had to call in sick to work!
One of my coworkers laughed at my inability to take off my jacket and reminded me that it might not hurt too much now, but wait until tomorrow. Those prophetic words floated to the surface of my consciousness the next morning as I tried to use my hand to shut off my alarm clock.  Good thing I had washed my hair the day before because that would have been categorized in the same column as climb Mt. Everest and  throw a dinner party for 500 people serving only laffy taffy and spray cheese.
As uncomfortable as my shoulders, back, arms and hands were for about three days, I also took satisfaction in knowing that I was once again making strides toward a more overall fitness level.  In many parts of our lives, we don't grow and move forward unless we stretch ourselves beyond our comfort zone.  Our faith walk will never move forward if we are unwilling to travel past what we can see.  Our palate will never expand if we are do not try new tastes.  Muscles will never develop if we never work them.  Knowledge will never be acquired if we don't learn new and exciting things.
The phrase I use to let my clowns know that they have gone an amazing job of leading worship is "there is no SAS in sight".  Arms were raised; hearts were raised as we praised an awesome God.  We gave it everything we had and pushed our comfort zone a little further than we had ever ventured before.  It simply means, well done.  

Friday, June 14, 2013

Weeks 9 and 10: Traveling at the Speed of Life

The last two weeks of my calendar have been filled in for over a year. "CCYM Summer Meeting/Annual Conference in Bismarck" has been penciled in beginning June 3rd since last summer.
I serve on the Conference Council on Youth Ministry in our Dakotas United Methodist Conference.  I have the opportunity to work with youth and other adults, planning and hosting events to offer Christ to the youth of the Dakotas.  It's excited to see a group like this come together, enjoy fellowship, late night conversation and work for a common purpose of furthering the Kingdom of God in our midst. 
The week before Annual Conference, I was in the gym with my personal trainer (PT) for one session.  PT had been away and I had been left to my own devices. Apparently my devices were on target as the first training session with PT was not as much of a struggle as I had feared.  However, I needed to get into my stride and boldly decided to keep my training sessions during Summer Meeting and Annual Conference.
We began Summer Meeting on Monday evening with supper.  It was great to reconnect with my friends and meet the new youth CCYM members.  Our meetings were held at the University of Mary south of Bismarck.  It is a beautiful, peaceful place with a great board room that overlooks the river.  Moving into the dorms reminded me why adults don't live in dorms.  I didn't have to share a room, but it's not quite home.  The temperature was chilly and I got up during the night to put on more clothes, socks and a sweatshirt.
It was rainy and gloomy on Tuesday, and I drove over from the dorms to the meeting room/dining hall instead of getting some fresh air and exercise.  Another reminder of how nice it is that my dining room is in the same building as my bedroom. 
Mid-morning, I was frantically trying to get a veterinary appointment for my dog, Lucy.  She had an adverse reaction to some generic flea and tick  serum I had applied on Monday before she had gone to the dog sitter's house.  I was blessed with friends who helped out by driving her to my house and bathing a 140+ pound dog who did not particularly want to be bathed. 
My training session went very well.  PT led me through a "bootcamp style" workout, combining four or five different elements in three repititions of the cycle. I was feeling pretty good as I biked through my cool down.  I would have skipped out of the gym if my PT hadn't asked me to come in on Thursday at 6:00 a.m.  Yes, in the morning.  Yikes!
Wednesday, we moved into the hotel for Annual Conference.  We enjoyed a nice sit down meal and attended an orientation session.  The youth were given free time and I enjoyed visiting with old friends.  The youth were great and everyone was settled by 11 p.m. 
When my alarm went off at 4:45 a.m., it was not so great!  Going to the gym in the morning presents some challenges with my blood sugar.  I need to get up early enough to eat and, even then, I'm not up for a strenous workout.  I don't have all day to stabilize my blood sugar with meals and snacks before diving in to my exercise. I don't really want to eat anything too heavy or I drag through my workout.  I crawled out of my warm nest, put on some workout clothes, grabbed a protein bar and headed out.  It was a beautiful dawn as I staggered to the car half awake.  I put on some Kutlass and turned the volume up loud.  This was no time for soft praise songs.  No - what I needed was a jolt of music.
I stopped at my house on the way to the gym to pick up the toaster.  I pulled in to the back drive way, completely unaware that my parents had come in late the night before.  Their dog met me at the back door happy to see a conscious person.  Well, partially conscious. 
I stepped in to the gym about 5:50 a.m., patting myself on the back for actually getting there on time and ready to go.  Only a few people had risen to that challenge themselves as the numbers were sparce.  Even PT looked marginally awake.  I can't remember exactly what my training session included.  I'm sure I "felt the burn" and worked on the core, but I must have been on autopilot.  I had engaged in very little physical activity most of the week.  Moving out of the dorms and into the hotel room was about the sum of my movement during Annual Conference.  Sitting in the visitor's section at Annual Conference has it's advantages as we were near the door as I could make a quiet exit to get more coffee.
I had been given the opportunity to teach the creative offering to our CCYM youth for the Ordination Service on Friday night of Annual Conference.  It is always a privilege to be asked to part of this amazing worship time.  The clergy process in regaled in full robes to a booming organ.  The sanctuary is filled to capacity as family, friends, mentors and guests share in the celebration of ordination.  Many of those being commissioned or ordained have answered the call and worked for years to discern God's calling on their lives to ministry.  As we tell the youth, it is a BIG deal. 
We had practiced for hours and they were very prepared.  There are always some rocky moments as we learn and practice the song.  Some of the youth have never seen, much less been a part of, a liturgical movement.  It requires patience and flexibility as I try to translate what God has placed in my heart and head into what will physically work with fifteen teenagers.  There were several moments of levity during practice which is one of the many blessings of working with teenagers.  The CCYM youth and adults had been hard at work since Monday evening and, at times, it looked more like a lethargical movement, but we persevered.  They offered their prayer for guidance with such grace that I was in awe.  Literally.  They were so proud of themselves and I was so proud of them.  A bunch of teenagers that had come together five days ago and had grown together so closely that you saw one group, not fifteen individuals.
Ice cream had been promised and the youth were eager to let relax and have some time at the pool. The cars transported us to a place of milk and honey  -- OK, a place with ice cream and hot fudge.  I may have undone some of my hard work, but I enjoyed ice cream with them and it was wonderful!
The Bishop gave the benediction to end Annual Conference on Saturday and I was home by noon.  It had been a chaotic, renewing week and I was exhausted.  I napped until supper and went to bed shortly after.  Sunday would dawn early and I was looking forward to being in worship with my church family. 
As hectice as the week had been, I was glad that I had taken the time to get in my training sessions.  I have found exercise to be a great stress reliever for me and having that time away made it easier for me to focus at my meetings.  In the same way, making time for God through prayer, scripture and stillness makes it possible for me to seek first the Kingdom of God and go to him with my stress, worries and burdens.