Thank you for stopping by my blog.

I write day after day because I discover extraordinary lessons from ordinary life experiences. I record my visual portraits of everyday life filled with something sacred in hopes that my reflections might bring an insight that blesses my readers.

Friday, February 20, 2015

Kite prayers

Kite flying

Thinking About Prayer

I know many of us spend time in prayer. We sometimes offer up hurried prayers when we are off and running. Other times we linger over our prayer journals writing each request neatly on the blank page.  Other days, we seem to live in prayer. We pray when washing dishes, driving the kids, cleaning the house, and when gardening. Then there are those kite day prayers.

What are kite day prayers you say? Well, those are the days we linger with the Lord just holding onto a ray of light to the throne room. A thought occurs and a prayer concurs. Another wind thrusts our vision upwards, and we offer a request so big that we know only God could answer such a dire need. We just hold onto the sunbeam in our minds and thoughts and prayers create the weights on the tale of the kite.  The weights are ours and the wind gusts are His. He thrusts forward our words, thoughts, and prayers. 

I love kite prayers because I lose control. My words aren’t fancy or contrived or familiar repetitions. Instead, they freely are released unto the kingdom. He is in charge, and I am making the request, the offerings, and the affirmations of love.  It is free time and indulgence with the Holy Spirit. 

Just as when we fly kites in the spring, there is a refreshing and excitement in this type of praying. It takes time, silence, focus, and an unseen power. The power of prayer comes forth.  Today is a kite prayer day.  How about you?  Interested in flying heavenly kites?

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Snowbird Zumba

Zumba Gold with the snowbirds.

Wednesday I finished my cardio and weights in the gym, and I was waiting on my husband’s pickle ball games to end.  Since he likes to play two or three hours, I decided I had time to try the Zumba Gold class. 

I entered cautiously because I’ve been nursing a knee injury for about three months.  My expanding waistline pushed me into the class.  I promised myself I would not do any pivoting motions or jumping.  The ladies welcomed me enthusiastically.  Since I was a little early, I sat down on the chairs lined against the wall. 

The first lady to extend her greeting was a Pentecostal looking lady with her hair piled high in petals in that 1960 style that I once loved.  She smiled and said hi, and began warming up to the music with a wiggle here and a wiggle there.  Next, I noticed a woman getting a chair for a man who obviously had had a stroke.  She dragged a chair to the mirrored wall of the room. He used his cane to slowly follow her, and she helped him sit down and said, “ Enjoy, dear.  I’ll be back in an hour.”  Beside him was a six foot man who weighed at least four hundred pounds.  He was swinging him arms back and forth beside his rotund, mounded stomach like he was cross-country skiing to music. He swayed to the warm up music that the teacher played as she practiced the upcoming steps in front of the mirror.   Next to the large man was a very fit man, who looked like a runner from his defined legs and running gear.  He was smiling from ear to ear getting ready by jumping up and down in place.

 Admittedly, the men’s corner mesmerized me, but my attention was immediately drawn to a gray haired lady, who appeared to wear 3 X tops and XXL bottoms.  I admired that she was here, but what was most amusing was she wore a very wide belly dancer’s belt complete with bangles, bling, and baubles around her waist area. She began jingling when she was moving to the music. The Pentecostal waved at her, as did the teacher and others.  The group seemed extremely bonded and cordial.

 Another gal flew past me bedecked in a black rain cape. She immediately pulled it off to reveal black tights, a glittery off the shoulder fitted top in turquoise covered by a long black vest like top.  I tried to talk to her only to learn she didn’t speak English, just Zumba.

Needless to say, I was no longer considering my waistline and contemplating making a run for it.  I couldn’t change my mind because grandmas of various sizes were blocking the door as they hurried to take their place by bopping and swaying with loud enthusiasm and laughter. I liked their passion and excitement to begin class.

Then, the sixty-year-old teacher welcomed the class and turned up the music. We all followed as she modeled the dance steps. I too took my place in line as she announced, “ Welcome Sandi, she’s our newest member.” Trust me, I was not volunteering for a membership card at this point.  Within minutes, I was surrounded by seventy plus year old ladies dancing, jiving, and singing along with a song that said “he’s got all his junk together in the right places.”  Oh, my, this was surreal, entertaining as well as good exercise.  The next song everyone sang, “ To the right, to the right,” kicking and turning like the Rockettes.  YMCA was a favorite as was the twist and then grapevine steps.  I was sweatin’ and groovin’ with my newfound friends. As we were doing the freeze, I noticed the man in the chair just smacking his hand and arm against his leg trying to keep the beat.  When I left, they gave me high fives as I left and told me not to forget to come back.

I met Denny after pickle ball.  His question, “ Did you have a good workout?  You are sure sweating.” 

“I not only had a good workout but one I will remember and share.  Will I return?  I will because Zumba Gold with the snowbirds in Englewood was a fun class. Today I will slow my day down and rest me knee by joining one hundred and fifty snowbirds doing yoga on the beach. Who said growing older was boring?  Not me.