I’ve un-followed the Proverbs 31 woman. She and her man had a joint account. He's been a little over-the-top in his boasting of her abilities lately. Her name's something like Genevieve. You know, exotic. Gorgeous. I’m sure she “throws together” 5-star meals every evening for that very clever, hard-bodied husband of hers while wearing a figure-hugging dress and heels. She’s an impossibly cool size-2 with four baby Gap children quietly playing in the corner, and oh, they never get dirty.
There's a little old man at my gym every morning around the same time. He must be 80. Towel thrown over his shoulder and socks pulled up to his shins, he makes his way past the various machines, welcoming morning regulars as we arrive.
More than just a building for exercise, this gym is a gathering place for people who refuse to be victims.
I'm covered in silky white threads of web. They zigzag their way up my shirt and over my shoulders. It feels like there's a hair tickling my neck, but I can't quite reach far enough to swipe it away with my fingertips. Webs. Any of you who like to hike know exactly what I'm talking about.
Those (tiny, little) monster spiders fling themselves from branch to branch, stretching their sticky death traps across the path in hopes of a meal. That is, until my face collides with all them. I picture the little tyrants cursing me as I demolish their handiwork, one web after another along the way.
"Good thing you're the trailblazer today, Mom. I hate those things," yells my little guy from behind.
I just stand there, grinning much too widely for such a somber ritual. At some points, my feet feel cemented to the floor. Other moments, my legs throw weight side-to-side, swaying to the music and taking in the crowd. For as long as I've been in the church, I've never held the communion bowl before. I don't know what I thought it would be to serve, maybe awkward recitation and the avoidance of eyes.
I know what communion means to me, but not to the long line of souls waiting to partake.
Believer. Wife. Mom. Writer. Marriage and Family Therapist. Accidental Speaker. Crossfitter and Total Book Nerd.
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Susan Mead's #DanceWithJesus