Palms Up

I find myself involved in an abundance of physical activity here. The first and biggest reason being I have time; I am not working and have little to no homework. I'm reminded of childhood; football, soccer, softball, running, and the list goes on and on. It's almost as if I haven't changed. Everyday I'm picking up some kind of athletic equipment.

As of this week I've had to sit back and take it easy due to my last knee injury last December. I've pushed it everyday since I left the hospital. I remember crutching into the gym one week after surgery to ride the stationary bicycle. The first day I was allowed to run, I ran over a mile and couldn't walk for a week. And now I'm sitting at a desk with my foot elevated on one side of my computer, and stealing ice from the freezer when I can to lessen the swelling. I learned a Spanish word this week that I have over-used because it has so many meanings with four letters - rado - that's how I feel about this; weird, odd, crazy, ridiculous, absurd. Está rado. 

This morning I woke up and put on my running attire. Instead of a run I walked the aerobic path along the highway that dumps out at a river and a white bridge. It's a beautiful path past wheat fields, colorful weeds, and thick leaved trees that sound like music when blowing in the wind. 

As I walked I realized that my pace had slowed. Frustrated, I clinched my fists and started swinging them faster to speed myself up. Suddenly my brain was no longer reflecting on the beauty around me, but how much of a loser I was for walking. At that moment, there couldn't have been a better time, a younger boy runs past me. In my mind I began mumbling and grumbling, está rado, muy rado. It didn't take long before I was sweating from the intense arm swinging. Not much longer and my fingers started feeling numb from being so tightly clinched. I opened them up and suddenly remembered what I had read the morning before: 

Clinch your fist. Most people could get angry at a grapefruit when their fists are clinched ... Jesus taught me there is nothing I could really lose if I had Him. He taught me to live with palms up, just like He did. Palms up means you have nothing to hide and nothing to gain or lose. It means your strong enough to be vulnerable, even with your enemies. Even when you have been tremendously wronged. Jesus was palms up, to the end. 

-B. Goff