#414: Warm Thoughts on a Frigid Morning

Lord, but it's cold out this morning. 24° when I turned on the defrosters in the Honda at 4:45. My little girl is 12 years old now, but she still fires up like a dream. The stars were breathtaking, or maybe it was the temperature that stopped my heart for just a second.

I spent years as an evening person. Show business and all. Many times my friend Noah and I watched the sun come up as we wandered the streets of Manhattan after a long night of music, billiards, beers, and smoke. Now, my bed time is much earlier, but the payoff is these pre-dawn hours to reflect on yesterday, plan today, and enjoy the peaceful breathing of Mrs P, Kizzie, or the pack, depending on who's sleeping where.

Yesterday was not a bad one. I got to work early, then enjoyed my regular running date with my friend, Christy. It really helps having a partner to run with. I can talk myself out of almost any other workout, but knowing that my friend is going to be there, counting on me... it makes my Tuesday run one that I really look forward to. We did four fairly quick miles on the Legacy Trail. "Too cold to dawdle," is my mantra this time of year. Once my own workout was done, I met with a client and we had an hour in the gymnasium doing indoor laps, banging the medicine ball around, and learning some fundamental kettlebell skills. By the time I got home, I was ready to pass out.

I wake with a start. Pitch black. Kizzie purring softly beside me. What time is it? 7:30!!! Oh no! I was supposed to open the gym at 5:15! Why didn't anybody call? My phone! It's charging in the den! I didn't hear Coach Melissa's call. She probably had to get up and drive to the Y in the dark to open up. Damn. Pull on some pants. Shoes? Where? Damn. Go find my phone. Call Coach. Where's Mrs P? The lights are on in the den. The dogs are awake. Mrs P is watching Netflix. "What are you doing up? Why didn't you wake me?" A light blinks on in my head. I lean against the wall, panic subsiding. "It's not morning, is it?" My wife smiles the tender smile of a woman who knows that she's in love with an idiot and she's come to accept the fact. "No, honey. It's Tuesday night. You were so tired, I let you sleep. There's tuna on the stove." I skip the casserole, pour a bowl of cereal, watch half an episode of Lie to Me, and go back to bed.

I have a long day planned today. After my morning shift, I'll take a water aerobics class, then find a quiet corner to swing the kettlebell for a while. I have an idea that I may start my group exercise career teaching water fitness, so I'm trying to observe and pick the brains of the more experienced teachers so I'll be ready if the opportunity comes. I'll see the shrink this afternoon, then for the rest of the day and evening, I'll do intake interviews for the January LIVESTRONG at the YMCA class.

I'm eager to see the Psychiatrist, too. We're tapering in a new medication, and so far, it isn't making much of a difference. Still edgy. Still irritable. Still angry at nothing and everything. The only thing I'm noticing is that I've gained about 5 pounds since starting it. That's not OK. I hope we can get the meds and my brain stabilized soon, so I can figure out what other changes I need to make to keep my girlish figure intact. My goal for the winter is to drop some pounds so I'm ready for the spring racing season. I'm moving in exactly the wrong direction, but like Cool Hand Luke, I got to get my mind right or the rest of my wellness is going to come apart. First things first.

I've been writing this in the gym, which is against the rules, but the Y is pretty low maintenance in the early morning hours. Keep the coffee hot and the non-members out of the locker room. Men come in to use the bathroom and warm their hands for a bit in the wee hours. When there are kids around, I have zero tolerance for such goings on, but at this hour and at these temps I don't have the heart to run them off without a little bit of hospitality. You never know when an angel is going to wander in looking for a cup of coffee. Christmas is not the time for "no room at the inn."

Peace,
Pennsy

The Gospel according to AIDS

The end of all things is near; therefore be serious and discipline yourselves for the sake of your prayers. Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining. Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received. Whoever speaks must do so as one speaking the very words of God; whoever serves must do so with the strength that God supplies, so that God may be glorified in all things through Jesus Christ. To him belong the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen. Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ's sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed.
1 Peter 4:7-13 (NRSV)

As usual, the wisdom of the lectionary amazes me. This is part of the epistle from today's Daily Office.

Today is World AIDS Day. I remember the first article I read in Time or USNews about some sort of "gay cancer" that was killing young men in terrible ways. The connection between the community and the suffering gave license to many of our culture's deepest fears and prejudices. The problem was not the disease - the problem was the behavior. Righteousness distracted us from doing right.

And so many, too many died without the church's loving presence.


Now things are different. Celebrities have kept AIDS in the public's consciousness. Experience has taught us that HIV doesn't just kill gay men. Decades of research have made "living with AIDS" more than just a euphemism. Like so many cruel diseases, there still isn't a cure - but there is more hope and less ignorance than there used to be.

Peter was not writing about a disease, he was writing to a persecuted church who suffered at the hands of righteous people. His counsel? Love one another. Cover one another's sins with the love of God. Be stewards of one another, for the steward of another's heart cares for a child of God. Offer holy hospitality, speak godly words, serve as Christ did, with all the strength God gives you because serving one another gives glory to God.

So much of the church's initial response to AIDS was not about the disease either. It was about sins and sinners. Many offered shame in the place of service - condemnation instead of compassion. As a consequence, the people who needed Christ's church the most were pushed away. Such failure of charity grieves God's heart.

Peter's exhortation to rejoice in suffering is a tough pill to swallow. On the one hand, we feel ashamed to compare our suffering to Christ's. At the same time, few of us are faithful enough to keep our eyes on Jesus when our own bodies or minds are in pain.

A friend of mine who lives with deep depression episodes once told me that the one thing that comforted her at her darkest hour was knowing that the darkness would not last forever. Our suffering, and the pain of those who love us is not an eternal curse. In the glory of God our trials will come to an end.

While Peter seems to joyfully anticipate the end of the world, he also gives good counsel for the time between now and then. As long as it is possible to glorify God, it is possible to rejoice, even in our own brokenness.

As they were leaving Jericho, a large crowd followed him. There were two blind men sitting by the roadside. When they heard that Jesus was passing by, they shouted, "Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!" The crowd sternly ordered them to be quiet; but they shouted even more loudly, "Have mercy on us, Lord, Son of David!" Jesus stood still and called them, saying, "What do you want me to do for you?" They said to him, "Lord, let our eyes be opened." Moved with compassion, Jesus touched their eyes. Immediately they regained their sight and followed him.
Matthew 20:29-34 (NRSV)

The blind men in today's gospel remind me of two things - persistence and faith. I have had friends who refused to let the disease define them. They were not victims of HIV, and they did not allow themselves to be labeled as people with AIDS. They found the courage to insist on living - the virus was incidental, not central to their lives. Their strength and will to go on was not a cry for mercy, but a demand to be allowed to exist. Like the blind men from Jericho, they refused to be discouraged or shouted down. They knew that Jesus would feel their suffering. They believed in life, and many of them believed in Jesus. Though their bodies failed them. their faith never did, and I believe Jesus never did either.

Our compassionate savior suffers with us and desires the health of our hearts as well as our minds and bodies. My friends' hearts are no longer under my stewardship, they are in the arms of Jesus. I pray that God will judge my service to them to have been faithful.

Peace,
b

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The beautiful portrait of Jesus is by horseman. Please visit http://www.jesusweptart.blogspot.com/