Ministry Update
The Christmas holidays are over and it is time for us to resume our travels. We are grateful to have meetings so soon after the holiday season. Something happened today that has not happened to us in a long time. No, we did not get a new truck, another meeting, or a check in the mail. We had some trailer trouble. We had been trouble free with the trailer for a long time and we are so grateful for the time that we had without problems. Today, however, the trouble returned. As we were driving west on I-40, I noticed that there were two aluminum pieces flapping on the side of our trailer. I stopped and took a look, only to find that my awning had blown off. Only God knows where it is because we did not feel or hear anything. It looks as if the canvas separated along a seem and the strong head wind that greeted us all day today made quick work of the rest of the canvas. I’m told that the awning costs about $1100 to replace. Consequently, I don’t think we will replace anytime soon. Really, it is not as great a loss as you might at first think.
· The awning was constantly prone to mildew
· The draw string had retracted into the canvas so that I could not pull it out anyway
· It was viciously prone to break in a thunderstorm, the only time we really needed it
· It grew gray hairs on my head every time I left it open in the gentlest breeze
· It had caught at least one erstwhile road sign and countless tree limbs
· It was dead weight to carry
· It was just one more detail to check before pulling out
So really, we scorn rather than mourn the loss and have a good time imagining the junk collector who discovers it on the interstate. Maybe it will be some hapless inmate who tries to pick it up with his little stick. Perhaps some homeless man, having just lost his cardboard box, will happen upon it to his great relief. Once he finds that his new found tent is spring loaded and retracts at the slightest whim, he may be prone to return it to the interstate, in which case someone at Emmanuel can pick it up and use it at family camp next year…but that is another story.
Family Update
We have had a very enjoyable Christmas season back in North Carolina. The weather was much warmer, for which we are so grateful! There was a tremendous ice storm that covered the trees with a layer of ice ¼ to ½ inch thick. It was so beautiful, although many people lost power because of it! Thank the Lord we didn’t lose our power for even an hour, although some were without power for several days!
We enjoyed the special services at our home church both on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. It was a blessing to reflect on the Savior’s birth, and the whole purpose of His coming.
I must say that one of my favorite things about Christmas is the decorating! I hung a garland on the large slide-out and we have a small tree that sits behind our couch on the storage cupboard. It is just the right size! I was sitting on the floor last week, putting the lights on the tree when Josiah said, “Mama, Abigail colored on the floor!” I looked, and sure enough, there was a great big blue stripe on our once-white carpet (RV carpet only comes in several shades of white, and is very hard to keep clean with children and NC red mud.) I got up to find the Goo-Gone, when to my horror, I saw about eight big purple stripes in the carpet further down! Apparently, she decided to do a little decorating of her own. I scrubbed for a long time, but there are still faint streaks of color on certain places in the rug. Later I found orange crayon on the day/night shade by the table. Oh, well. After this incident, as well as finding a green crayon in the dryer with my whites and favorite sheets, which are now cream colored with green speckles, and substantial evidence that some crayons had been eaten, I put the crayons up for a long time. Life is already too exciting to waste energy on crayon removal. The kids loved decorating the tree. I have a lot of child-proof ornaments, as well as a very unique collection of not-so-child-proof ornaments, and the trailer looked so lovely.
When I was a child, it was hard for me to sleep on Christmas Eve, because I was anticipating what I would find under the tree the next morning. ( I know, I was a very carnal child, but he which is without sin may cast the first stone.) This year, I could hardly go to sleep anticipating the kid’s reactions to what was under the tree. I was not disappointed. The Lord gave us the opportunity to share some very special things with our friends and family, and we are overwhelmed at His blessings to our family as well. He truly meets every need and gives us many of our desires, too.
We already announced that we are expecting another baby next year. Due to a conflict of opinions (the doctor, myself, and the ultrasound technician) we are as yet unsure of the due date. After my last checkup, they moved my due date back about 3 ½ weeks to the end of June. I was not a very happy mama. So, it looks like we will be having another ultrasound when we come back in March. Please pray for continued good health while we are traveling.
Many of you have asked about Josiah’s health, and we are happy to say that he is doing very well. We did have to take him to the ER the week before Christmas, but it was soon enough that he didn’t have to be admitted to the hospital, which was running on generator power at the time, because of the recent ice storm. All in all, it was an eventful evening. We are thankful that the Lord gives us just what we need when we need it – whether or not we think we need it!
We have enjoyed hearing from many of you, and ask that you pray for us as we travel this week to New Mexico for a New Year’s Eve service. So far, we drove about 420 miles today and are on the western side of Nashville, TN. We have a long way to go yet! From there, we are heading out to California, and then we will be in Arizona and Texas until March, when we will come back to NC. The weather should be much improved by then, too! Ha! We hope that all of you have a wonderful New Year in which to serve our Lord!
Sarah
Monday, December 26, 2005
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Week of Firsts
This meeting has been a week of firsts for us. For the last two nights Sarah has played her violin (fiddle in this church) for the special music. For her, it is a welcome change from the strain of singing every night. She can now even drink milk and eat ice cream before the service and not worry about it.
Tonight Josiah sang in the service for the very first time in our ministry. After practicing earlier today, I was scared stiff about what would happen. In the back of my mind was the last time he appeared in public. Those at Emmanuel may remember our Christmas program with our son stealing the show. The Elvis impersonation, the
huge and frequent sneezes, the constant wiggles - it was all too vivid in my mind as we ended our practice session today. In the service, however, Josiah was to prove that my fears were all ill-founded. He sang one verse of "Jesus Loves Me" with me playing the piano and Sarah playing the violin. He walked up to the platform with poise, sang his song, and returned to his seat without a single problem. In fact, the only thing childlike he did while he was up there was to briefly scratch his face. In the midst of this action, he seemingly remembered that this was probably not a good idea and returned his hands to their previous position behind his back.
A new day of variety has dawned in the Crow family ministry. Doubtless the next thing that will happen to me is that pastors will schedule me because my son sings (if you know of a cheap bus that I can buy, let me know), rather than because they enjoy my preaching. Oh well, whether in pretense or in truth, I guess we'll still get meetings.
We close tomorrow night. Thank you all for your prayers.
Paul
It was so neat to see and hear Josiah sing - I was so proud of him that I almost cried as he sang, and I smiled broadly throughout the whole thing. It was probably obvious to all how pleased I was. His voice was clear and sweet, and he sang out with no inhibitions. It was just so neat. So, now that we have had the "Parents Brag " session for the night, we will let you go. Wish you could have heard it. I did have someone take a few pictures while he was singing, and if you are on the photo list, you will see them.
Sarah
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
In the Gut
Ministry Update
We had a good close to the meeting in Illinois, despite the fact that we had no unsaved people in the final service. I had been hoping for a great harvest, but we had a good close preaching to the Christians who were there. The people began arriving at least a half an hour before the service started. There was a spirit of excitement in the air and God did a great work in the service. We praise the Lord for the work that He did.
I was in between trailer and church before Friday night’s service when one of the men of the church got out of his car and came up to me with a smile on his face. He began to relate a blessing that the Lord had given Him. He began, “Bro. Paul, I promised God that whatever my stock did I would give it in the offering this week.” I did not know quite what he was talking about. The church being in a rural area, I thought he might be talking about livestock. Maybe he had a heifer that dropped a prize bull calf that was worth $2,000 on the hoof. The man further explained that it was stock in the stock market, not the pasture to which he was referring. He related exuberantly how that one company’s shares had gone up $.74 that day and the other company’s had gone up $.75. He never did tell me how many shares he owned, but when we got the offering check after the service, it was the largest that we have ever gotten from a week of meetings. God knew what was coming in our lives and that we would need it.
We got a late start on Saturday and drove to Wakarusa, Indiana, to the Travel Supreme plant to have some work done on our trailer, this week’s meeting having been cancelled due to the pastor’s poor health. When we arrived at the “park” that the manufacturer has at their customer service department, we discovered that we composed the low income housing section. In fact, not only did we have the cheapest unit there, we also had the oldest. Conversely, we were the youngest people there. Retirees were surprised beyond measure to see not one, but two small children bounding out of our trailer on Sunday all dressed for church. On one side of us was the first in a row of $350,000+ motorhomes, which comprised the majority of the people there. Even the trailers that were there, few as they were, were far newer and nicer than ours.
After a mixed day in two different churches on Sunday, we were jolted Monday morning by a knock on our door. It was a Travel Supreme employee informing us that he was ready to take our trailer into the shop. I had just finished reading my Bible and was in the shower when the knock came. Needless to say, we all scrambled to get ready (the children were yet fast asleep) and got off to a very early start. One of the items on our list of things to do was a visit to my Uncle Pat Silveus. He is a doctor in Mentone, IN and agreed to give me a medical checkup. His word confirmed our fears: I have a hernia in my lower abdomen. So far, it has not given me anything more than a little discomfort, particularly after I preach, but, according to him, that could change at any minute. It could be that the hernia will not give me any more problems for several months, or it could be that the intestine sticking through could become incarcerated or strangulated necessitating emergency surgery. Either way, surgery is a necessity. I can have it done now and it will be a minor thing, or I can have it later and it will be a major thing, possibly including the removal of part of my intestine. I have decided to come home and have the surgery. Please pray that God will continue to keep the problem under control until I can have the surgery. Also pray that recovery would not take me out of too many meetings. Evangelist Bill Abbott will be taking my place in Pennsylvania next week. I hope that I will not miss any more meetings because of this. After all that the doctor can say, we must ultimately go to God because He alone knows best. He has kept the problem from erupting into something dangerous for nearly a month now, and He can continue to do so until everything is repaired. Our eyes are upon Him.
Family Update
Well, you have already read a lot of what our family is going through right now. It is difficult at times not to get dragged down by what we see as “bad” circumstances. We are so glad that the Lord is in control of our lives, and we know He has a plan for us. Josiah has had a rough time the last few weeks, because of struggling with a cold. Both he and Abigail have coughs that just won’t go away. Please pray that they will continue to get better. The worst is over, I believe, but they just can’t shake the sickness.
Sunday night at church, one lady came up to me and laughingly told me that she had asked Josiah when his birthday was. He looked at her and said in his matter-of-fact way, “Four years ago.” She then asked him when he turned four, to which he replied, “When I was finished being three!” I guess I need to work some more on basic facts!
What would you think if you were pushing your cart through the grocery store, and suddenly heard loud car noises and squealing coming up fast behind you? Had you been in the Meijer store Saturday evening, you might have thought that a crazy Michigan driver (no offense Borrmanns!) had mistaken the superstore for a parking garage, and was careening toward you at breakneck speed. Perhaps you might have surmised that an overworked employee was letting off steam as he headed to the break room. In all reality, you would have found, upon turning, that such a disturbance was merely because the Crows were in town. People started and stared as they saw two tired-looking adults pushing a cart with one four-year-old and one 17-month old. Josiah was making the car noises, punctuated with bursts of song (excerpts from “Orpheus in the Underworld”, a classical song, for those of you who might think that we have taken to listening to DC Talk or worse), while Abigail was squealing and waving her arms like a charismatic preacher in a snake-handling service. You might think that we don’t get out much, but on the contrary, we get out so much that the children are as well acquainted with Wal-Mart as they are with their own bedroom! Maybe they just enjoy being the center of attention!
Speaking of being the center of attention, as we pulled into our slot at the service “park” on Saturday, I got out to direct Paul as he backed into the space between two other units. Josiah was peering around Paul’s seat, watching me as I waved my arms frantically back and forth, up and down, left and right (hmm, maybe that’s where Abigail gets it). As Paul centered our trailer, and no longer needed my “help,” I began to modify my arm waving for Josiah’s benefit, settling somewhere between Fred Astaire and a third-base coach. He found it highly amusing, and as I grew more animated, I was startled to hear a strange voice on my left saying, “We’re all watching you, you know.” It was one of the neighborhood elite, standing next to his motorhome. I laughed as if it didn’t bother me, but I suddenly realized – those old, nosy coots were watching! Truly, living in an RV park is like living in a fishbowl. Next time, I’ll make sure no one is around. Paul says that I should just be myself. This is coming from someone who “pushes” open automatic doors as if he were Atlas (no wonder he has a hernia), and who once pulled a frozen pizza around the mall on a leash. I have heard that the pizza in question was the star in a home movie entitled “A Roadkill’s Trip to the Mall,” but I suppose that is another story that will have to wait for another update.
Anyway, we head off to more adventures tomorrow. Who knows what we will encounter! Pray for us – it should become more and more obvious that we need it!
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Outlook and Inlook
Ministry Update
Calvary Baptist Church – Urbana, IL
Despite having misgivings about this meeting on Saturday, the Lord has blessed us with a good day today. Last week the pastor called to tell me that he would not be able to meet me on Saturday when we arrived because his mother-in-law was at the point of death eight hours away. Accordingly, both pastor and wife were in Chattanooga, Tennessee today when we opened the meeting. All of Saturday’s misgivings were dispelled today as I saw the work that God was doing in the hearts of the people. When the pastor’s son met me on Saturday, he confided, “Bro. Paul, we really need this meeting this week.” In addition to the pastor’s problems, one of the most faithful men of the church is in the hospital with leukemia right now. They were sure that he would not make it through this weekend. He has been a member of this church for over thirty years and has been the head usher as long as anyone can remember. Both he and the pastor’s mother-in-law are doing better and the pastor plans to return to Illinois tomorrow, provided things go well. It is always preferable to have a revival meeting with the
pastor present, rather than absent.
There was a wonderful crowd this morning and two people responded at the invitation for salvation. Both ended up getting assurance of their salvation. Tonight, the altar was filled with others getting right with God. It was a wonderful start to the meeting. We are looking forward to what God will do the rest of the week.
Many of the people attending this church have recently come from the United Methodist Church. They could take it no longer when that denomination refused to reprimand clergy who supported and accepted Sodomy. Since they came from the United Methodists, they know very
little of the Bible and are full of questions after the service. Today I was asked to explain both the charismatic movement and theological liberalism. My explanation of liberalism hit home with one of the ladies asking me the question – she had been under the teaching of a liberal minister in the Methodist church. Some of these former Methodists have gotten saved, the others already professing salvation, and are quite eager to learn and grow. The entire church is a wonderful crowd to which to preach. One final word of commendation: they work to bring out unsaved. There is no telling who will be in the service on any given night. The last time we were here, a Catholic turned agnostic trusted Christ as Savior.
We are grateful to our home church, Emmanuel Baptist in Kings Mountain, for giving us $1,000 for tires. This gift came at a wonderful time for us and met a very important need. We praise the Lord for His provision and thank the church for their generosity.
Paul
Family Update
Thank the Lord we made it to Illinois without any further incidents with the trailer. We are, of course, without a refrigerator temporarily (we hope), but it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience. Paul says that it hasn’t been too inconvenient for me because he is the one elected to run to the church’s fridge at all hours of the day and night. I am just trying to keep him in shape.
I had forgotten how nice it is in September in the Midwest. It is cool and windy in the mornings, and warm in the daytime. It has rained off and on for most of the time we have been here so far, but it is still lovely.
Our family devotion time has taken on a unique character of its own since we now have two children actively participating. Josiah participates, and Abigail is just active. Paul attempts to tell a story, while one or both of us attempt to hold down Abigail, who is usually clamoring for the missionary book. The book in question is a 4x6 photo album in which we place all of our missionary prayer cards, along with photos of pastors, friends and relatives. Basically, if you
have ever given us a picture of yourself or your family, it is probably somewhere in that book. This is a much more convenient way to keep all our prayer cards together in some kind of order than just sticking them on the refrigerator (especially when the refrigerator is sitting in the
repair shop a whole state away). Josiah has most of the names of the missionaries learned, and after we pray for the “new” family, we review all the previous ones. This is the most humorous time for Paul and me as we listen to his childish pronunciation. He has no problem with the
Cajiuat and Rovirosa names, but we always laugh when he gets to the several “Sniff” families (Dwight and Amber, Dave and Ginger, etc.) and the “Uggle” family ( Jim and Lisa). There are also a few families that are identified by individual people in that particular family. For instance, the “Amy and Grace family” (Kevin and Jenny Hostettler), the “Rudy family” (Cordeiro is just not pronounceable for a 4-year-old), and the “Nehemiah family” (Scott and Debbie Borrmann). All in all, it is a colorful collection of people and titles. Abigail loves looking at the book, but all of the names are the same to her - “DAH!” We realize the importance of prayer to each of these families that are laboring for the Lord in many areas of the world, and we want our children to be aware that others are faithfully serving alongside of us in the ministry.
Abigail is talking more and more, but we are still only understanding about as much as before. She has discovered a new love - Oreo cookies. We were at my mom’s house this past week, and I was helping her unpack boxes from her recent move. There was a package of Oreos that we had for lunch, and when Paul arrived later in the afternoon, he had a few, but left the package on a low table by the computer. Abigail evidently found the cookies while no one else was in the room and decided to take advantage of the situation. Paul found her with a most attractive Oreo
“beard” when he returned to the room. She had not eaten one, two, or even three cookies, but had cleverly taken one bite out of at least a half a dozen cookies, and had left sufficient slobber on them so that no one else would be willing to eat them, thus reserving them all for herself. Her new nick-name is “Cookie Monster.”
We are all doing well, and we thank the Lord for His blessings on our lives, and for the prayers of faithful friends and loved ones. Continue to remember us in prayer.
Sarah
Calvary Baptist Church – Urbana, IL
Despite having misgivings about this meeting on Saturday, the Lord has blessed us with a good day today. Last week the pastor called to tell me that he would not be able to meet me on Saturday when we arrived because his mother-in-law was at the point of death eight hours away. Accordingly, both pastor and wife were in Chattanooga, Tennessee today when we opened the meeting. All of Saturday’s misgivings were dispelled today as I saw the work that God was doing in the hearts of the people. When the pastor’s son met me on Saturday, he confided, “Bro. Paul, we really need this meeting this week.” In addition to the pastor’s problems, one of the most faithful men of the church is in the hospital with leukemia right now. They were sure that he would not make it through this weekend. He has been a member of this church for over thirty years and has been the head usher as long as anyone can remember. Both he and the pastor’s mother-in-law are doing better and the pastor plans to return to Illinois tomorrow, provided things go well. It is always preferable to have a revival meeting with the
pastor present, rather than absent.
There was a wonderful crowd this morning and two people responded at the invitation for salvation. Both ended up getting assurance of their salvation. Tonight, the altar was filled with others getting right with God. It was a wonderful start to the meeting. We are looking forward to what God will do the rest of the week.
Many of the people attending this church have recently come from the United Methodist Church. They could take it no longer when that denomination refused to reprimand clergy who supported and accepted Sodomy. Since they came from the United Methodists, they know very
little of the Bible and are full of questions after the service. Today I was asked to explain both the charismatic movement and theological liberalism. My explanation of liberalism hit home with one of the ladies asking me the question – she had been under the teaching of a liberal minister in the Methodist church. Some of these former Methodists have gotten saved, the others already professing salvation, and are quite eager to learn and grow. The entire church is a wonderful crowd to which to preach. One final word of commendation: they work to bring out unsaved. There is no telling who will be in the service on any given night. The last time we were here, a Catholic turned agnostic trusted Christ as Savior.
We are grateful to our home church, Emmanuel Baptist in Kings Mountain, for giving us $1,000 for tires. This gift came at a wonderful time for us and met a very important need. We praise the Lord for His provision and thank the church for their generosity.
Paul
Family Update
Thank the Lord we made it to Illinois without any further incidents with the trailer. We are, of course, without a refrigerator temporarily (we hope), but it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience. Paul says that it hasn’t been too inconvenient for me because he is the one elected to run to the church’s fridge at all hours of the day and night. I am just trying to keep him in shape.
I had forgotten how nice it is in September in the Midwest. It is cool and windy in the mornings, and warm in the daytime. It has rained off and on for most of the time we have been here so far, but it is still lovely.
Our family devotion time has taken on a unique character of its own since we now have two children actively participating. Josiah participates, and Abigail is just active. Paul attempts to tell a story, while one or both of us attempt to hold down Abigail, who is usually clamoring for the missionary book. The book in question is a 4x6 photo album in which we place all of our missionary prayer cards, along with photos of pastors, friends and relatives. Basically, if you
have ever given us a picture of yourself or your family, it is probably somewhere in that book. This is a much more convenient way to keep all our prayer cards together in some kind of order than just sticking them on the refrigerator (especially when the refrigerator is sitting in the
repair shop a whole state away). Josiah has most of the names of the missionaries learned, and after we pray for the “new” family, we review all the previous ones. This is the most humorous time for Paul and me as we listen to his childish pronunciation. He has no problem with the
Cajiuat and Rovirosa names, but we always laugh when he gets to the several “Sniff” families (Dwight and Amber, Dave and Ginger, etc.) and the “Uggle” family ( Jim and Lisa). There are also a few families that are identified by individual people in that particular family. For instance, the “Amy and Grace family” (Kevin and Jenny Hostettler), the “Rudy family” (Cordeiro is just not pronounceable for a 4-year-old), and the “Nehemiah family” (Scott and Debbie Borrmann). All in all, it is a colorful collection of people and titles. Abigail loves looking at the book, but all of the names are the same to her - “DAH!” We realize the importance of prayer to each of these families that are laboring for the Lord in many areas of the world, and we want our children to be aware that others are faithfully serving alongside of us in the ministry.
Abigail is talking more and more, but we are still only understanding about as much as before. She has discovered a new love - Oreo cookies. We were at my mom’s house this past week, and I was helping her unpack boxes from her recent move. There was a package of Oreos that we had for lunch, and when Paul arrived later in the afternoon, he had a few, but left the package on a low table by the computer. Abigail evidently found the cookies while no one else was in the room and decided to take advantage of the situation. Paul found her with a most attractive Oreo
“beard” when he returned to the room. She had not eaten one, two, or even three cookies, but had cleverly taken one bite out of at least a half a dozen cookies, and had left sufficient slobber on them so that no one else would be willing to eat them, thus reserving them all for herself. Her new nick-name is “Cookie Monster.”
We are all doing well, and we thank the Lord for His blessings on our lives, and for the prayers of faithful friends and loved ones. Continue to remember us in prayer.
Sarah
Monday, September 05, 2005
Lesson on Youth
Although recently posted, the event of which I speak in this article actually occurred in May of 2005. I give it here to serve as an example of the content that we send out in our e-mail updates.
I have never before had such a grim reminder of age as I have had this past week. As the pastor and I sat together at McDonald's after the Wednesday night service, he invited me to go to the gym with him the next morning. The last time I had accompanied him to the gym, we played basketball, a rare opportunity for me. I was eager to go until he informed me that Thursday was his day to lift weights. This will be hard for most who know me to believe, but I have never been a weightlifter. Running, yes; basketball, yes; volleyball, yes; weightlifting, count me out. I told my wife before I married her that physiologists assert that men have a pair of muscles called pectoralis major. In my case, I informed her, I have pectoralis minor. Accordingly, I did not want to embarrass myself by showing the pastor how weak I really am when it comes to weightlifting, and I told him so. He assured me that there would be no embarrassment and I consented to join him.I was the second one to show up at the gym the next morning, arriving ten minutes early at 5:20. The men getting of their vehicles looked they would be more challenged to bench press their cars rather than anything the gym could contain. One man's arms were bigger than my legs. The pastor's words echoed in my ears, "No embarrassment." It was not long before the pastor showed and we began his morning routine. It began with two laps around the gym at a brisk walk. I can do a brisk walk. Before long, however, the laps were over and we began working on various exercise machines. The pastor always went first with each routine. Allow me here to identify the pastor as Marc Monte. He stands at least two inches taller than I, and outweighs me by 100 pounds. Simple physics and probability told me that there was no way I could lift as much weight as he could. Still, he was impressed with what I did lift. It wasn't long before I began to be impressed as well. For example, after finishing a set of 13 reps on what he called a military bench press, he informed me that when he started, he had lifted less than half of what I had done. Although most of the routine was done on machines, we did some exercises with free weights. One of them was called a walking lunge. For the walking lunge, I carried fifty pounds of excess weight - the same as Pastor Monte. In what he called a power lift, I lifted fifty pounds less than he. From what I can discern, I had my own body weight on my shoulders, and was lifting it with my legs. When it came to lifting with my stomach muscles, I was only limited by my own body weight - pulling myself off the ground rather than lifting the prescribed weight. Yes, I had grossly underestimated my own strength! Between each set of twelve reps on the various machines, we took another lap at a brisk walk. After about an hour and fifteen minutes of working out, we joined two teenage boys from the church for a game of basketball. Forty minutes later, we headed home.
It felt so good to have had strenuous exercise, especially when I knew that it was a total body workout. A few hours later, however, my overly healthy ego became seriously ill. It should have been no problem at all -- a routine I had performed thousands of time with no problem. Yet the intensity of the pain in my legs as I attempted to rise from a seated position was a harbinger of trouble to come. The next morning, ego died. The only muscle in my body that was not sore was my jaw. As I attempted to rise from bed, I found to my chagrin, that my wife had tethered bowling balls to my lower appendages. Nor was lifting my legs possible without intense pain. Instinctively, I called upon my arms to help me sit up in bed. Alas, they too, had fallen victim. It was small comfort now that I had doubled the initial lifting weight of a 250 pound man on my first attempt. Somehow, the man who owned the gym had managed to reattach all that weight to my arms while I was sleeping! I was barely able to move all day long. Routine chores became painful and slow. While working on the trailer, I found myself thinking hard to achieve maximum efficiency. I wanted to make sure that while I was kneeling I got everything done that needed to be done - I didn't think that, assuming I was able to resume a standing position, I could make it to my knees again. Nor was my wife any comfort. The Ozarks of southern Missouri still echo with her guffaws. I thought the soreness had greatly abated. I had not felt any for several hours. Then we stopped at a rest area, and I was obliged to get out of the truck. I nearly collapsed in a week-old puddle of diesel fuel deposited in the rest area by some unknown trucker. Throughout the day, another one of Pastor Monte's assurances recrossed my mind: "No pain, no gain." If the pain is any indication of how much I gained, I should be, by now, a shrewd combination of Atlas and Arnold Swartzenegger. This fact alone might have been enough to revive ego, except that our bedroom mirror offers ample evidence to the contrary. The only difference now in my pectoralis minor is that they are painful and minor. My legs still remind me of a malnourished flamingo, and my arms are as big around as crab legs. Worse, though I am not yet thirty, I feel as if my threescore and ten expired long ago. Sarah is urging me to join a club, such as the YMCA, evidently in an effort to perpetuate my semi-paralytic condition. There is, however, an upside. For the first time since I began pulling my trailer, the retirees in their RVs at Flying J accepted me as one of them.
I have never before had such a grim reminder of age as I have had this past week. As the pastor and I sat together at McDonald's after the Wednesday night service, he invited me to go to the gym with him the next morning. The last time I had accompanied him to the gym, we played basketball, a rare opportunity for me. I was eager to go until he informed me that Thursday was his day to lift weights. This will be hard for most who know me to believe, but I have never been a weightlifter. Running, yes; basketball, yes; volleyball, yes; weightlifting, count me out. I told my wife before I married her that physiologists assert that men have a pair of muscles called pectoralis major. In my case, I informed her, I have pectoralis minor. Accordingly, I did not want to embarrass myself by showing the pastor how weak I really am when it comes to weightlifting, and I told him so. He assured me that there would be no embarrassment and I consented to join him.I was the second one to show up at the gym the next morning, arriving ten minutes early at 5:20. The men getting of their vehicles looked they would be more challenged to bench press their cars rather than anything the gym could contain. One man's arms were bigger than my legs. The pastor's words echoed in my ears, "No embarrassment." It was not long before the pastor showed and we began his morning routine. It began with two laps around the gym at a brisk walk. I can do a brisk walk. Before long, however, the laps were over and we began working on various exercise machines. The pastor always went first with each routine. Allow me here to identify the pastor as Marc Monte. He stands at least two inches taller than I, and outweighs me by 100 pounds. Simple physics and probability told me that there was no way I could lift as much weight as he could. Still, he was impressed with what I did lift. It wasn't long before I began to be impressed as well. For example, after finishing a set of 13 reps on what he called a military bench press, he informed me that when he started, he had lifted less than half of what I had done. Although most of the routine was done on machines, we did some exercises with free weights. One of them was called a walking lunge. For the walking lunge, I carried fifty pounds of excess weight - the same as Pastor Monte. In what he called a power lift, I lifted fifty pounds less than he. From what I can discern, I had my own body weight on my shoulders, and was lifting it with my legs. When it came to lifting with my stomach muscles, I was only limited by my own body weight - pulling myself off the ground rather than lifting the prescribed weight. Yes, I had grossly underestimated my own strength! Between each set of twelve reps on the various machines, we took another lap at a brisk walk. After about an hour and fifteen minutes of working out, we joined two teenage boys from the church for a game of basketball. Forty minutes later, we headed home.
It felt so good to have had strenuous exercise, especially when I knew that it was a total body workout. A few hours later, however, my overly healthy ego became seriously ill. It should have been no problem at all -- a routine I had performed thousands of time with no problem. Yet the intensity of the pain in my legs as I attempted to rise from a seated position was a harbinger of trouble to come. The next morning, ego died. The only muscle in my body that was not sore was my jaw. As I attempted to rise from bed, I found to my chagrin, that my wife had tethered bowling balls to my lower appendages. Nor was lifting my legs possible without intense pain. Instinctively, I called upon my arms to help me sit up in bed. Alas, they too, had fallen victim. It was small comfort now that I had doubled the initial lifting weight of a 250 pound man on my first attempt. Somehow, the man who owned the gym had managed to reattach all that weight to my arms while I was sleeping! I was barely able to move all day long. Routine chores became painful and slow. While working on the trailer, I found myself thinking hard to achieve maximum efficiency. I wanted to make sure that while I was kneeling I got everything done that needed to be done - I didn't think that, assuming I was able to resume a standing position, I could make it to my knees again. Nor was my wife any comfort. The Ozarks of southern Missouri still echo with her guffaws. I thought the soreness had greatly abated. I had not felt any for several hours. Then we stopped at a rest area, and I was obliged to get out of the truck. I nearly collapsed in a week-old puddle of diesel fuel deposited in the rest area by some unknown trucker. Throughout the day, another one of Pastor Monte's assurances recrossed my mind: "No pain, no gain." If the pain is any indication of how much I gained, I should be, by now, a shrewd combination of Atlas and Arnold Swartzenegger. This fact alone might have been enough to revive ego, except that our bedroom mirror offers ample evidence to the contrary. The only difference now in my pectoralis minor is that they are painful and minor. My legs still remind me of a malnourished flamingo, and my arms are as big around as crab legs. Worse, though I am not yet thirty, I feel as if my threescore and ten expired long ago. Sarah is urging me to join a club, such as the YMCA, evidently in an effort to perpetuate my semi-paralytic condition. There is, however, an upside. For the first time since I began pulling my trailer, the retirees in their RVs at Flying J accepted me as one of them.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Joy
Joy: n. that inner state of felicity that expresses itself outwardly regardless of adverse circumstances
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)