Broken muscle fiber

My son & I love staying in a motel. We’re on a trip this weekend to meet a brother of his he’s never met & what an awesome experience to be part of. Although, I must admit it’s the little things on a trip that make it just as awesome as the big things, like breakfast!

I don’t eat all the fun stuff at the free continental breakfast but I love that it’s there. There’s something about choice that just makes my heart sing; if I wanted those sprinkles on a delicious sugary waffle I could have them. I wake around four in the morning, so I take my time in this glorious space of choices in the AM and I love it! As I walked in for my second breakfast this morning, I felt a little misplaced & began to judge those waffle eaters around me. I didn’t judge what they were eating, I judged that they were judging me. I approached the table I had sit at before my workout and this time it was full people similar in age to myself eating yummy stuff & living it up. Meanwhile, I come in smelly & gross with my boiled eggs & water. I wondered if people were looking & glad they were living it up a little. (It never seems to work out well for me when I get in someone else’s head.)

I picked up my phone & did a little reading on the irony of the cross & Christ & it brought me home, to me. The broken fibers in my body will grow back stronger with the nourishment they were fed. I don’t believe we are ever broken as in the soul or spirit, but maybe the fiber of my being is broken through pain & my hope, my thanks, my friends & supports, all that my Beautiful Higher Power provides, build & nourish. Pretty awesome right!

Hmmm, that’s all of you; wow, what a change in thought. So, a little suffering & a playful, love filled LIFE in this fiber, with two rusty knees from all the play. So I guess I’m thankful this morning for my choice, but also that we all have them…really, how great is that!!