Brown Eyed Girl

I stood at the finish line and watched her struggle.

Her tiny little frame. Her pink bathing suit. Her sweet lanky arms doing their back-stroking best.

In the middle of her lane she flipped to her belly. She still had a long way to go.

Her heat-mates, having finished, stood, teeth chattering at the shallow end of the pool. They were all waiting on her.

In the brevity of a second (but might've felt like an hour) her big brown eyes - water clumping her lashes - carried discouragement and fatigue.

She was in the ocean; the shore too far away.

So we cheered, and we clapped, and we yelled, "You're almost there!" 

And she flipped to her back and pressed on.

The smile on her face when she knew she had finished caused a sting in my eyes that remains there today.

So fatigued, as she was, she needed a boost from the water, but she walked as tall as a smallish swimmer could be...

Encouragement.

We will drowned with out it. 

I stayed by the pool, my stop-watch in hand. My pencil, my score cards, my bottle of water. I recorded the times and cheered on for others, but I was traveling to places on my own stormy sea.

I was remembering days when someone encouraged my efforts, focused my faith, helped me to 'swim-on' when feeling fatigued. Those times were fresh air to my lungs, and cool water when thirsty. It framed the pictures of life I was too ambivalent to see.

I was remembering moments when (apart from my doing) I was privileged to watch encouragement help people I love... to get better, to have confidence, to learn to trust again.

Encouragement lends room for the hard-heart to soften, the broken-heart to find comfort, the hindered-heart to find hope. And last night, as a pool full of parents hollered and cheered, it helped a little brown-eyed girl make it to the finish line.

It helped this brown-eyed girl to remember.

~~~~~~~

God of all healing counsel! 

He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, 

and before you know it, 

he brings us alongside someone else 

who is going through hard times 

so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us.

2 Cor. 1:4 

(The Message)

A Quiet Moment of Clarity

I've just returned from a lovely outing with the Carpoolqueen and her Trio.

We spent several hours swimming, dining on pizza, and doing our best to catch up after her whirlwind trip to the wild west and back.

Due to the unspoken bloggers courtesy regarding photos in bathing suits, there won't be any poolside pictures. You can take my word for it, we had a blast.

What I love about being at the pool all morning is that when I bring my kids home they go into auto-pilot. Without prompting they each find a shower and when they are warm and clean, they'll find prospective corners of the house to be quiet.

That is the wonderful part about this stage in parenting, you don't have to worry (as much) about the quiet times...you can actually enjoy them.

All this quiet has led me to some pondering...

Currently, my dilemma is wether or not to make the long drive to Chapel Hill this afternoon to purchase yarn.

I started an afghan on a whim this weekend, without pattern or plan, and it turns out the three little balls of yarn I had on hand are not enough. Since the posting of this picture the blanket is now about 20x20 inches, so I'm committed...and out of brown yarn.

I could wait to go to the store until I have other things I need at that end of town, but my crochet-driven impulse may win out.

Does this ever happen to you? Do you ever get fixated, out of the blue, in a fit of creativity, on one thing even when there may be 10 other projects you could tend to?

My husband recently said in a I'm-saying-this-as-a-joke-but-it-smacks-of-reality kind of way, "Kellie, you're so compulsive." Which is a nice way of saying, you get your mind set on something and you can't leave it alone.


I beg to differ.

I call it passionate dedication.

There is just something comforting about the compulsiveness repetitiveness of double-crochet, double-crochet, double-crochet, single-chain, single-chain, double-crochet, double-crochet, double-crochet, single-chain, single-chain, over, and over, and over again.

The process is comforting. It takes almost no effort, and magically that little repetitive motion turns a bit of yarn into a pattern...

A comforting, warm, colorful, pattern of passionate dedication.

Craft store....here I come.

Swim Moms: Desperately Seeking Shade

Years ago a lady told me that the friends I made in adulthood would largely be determined by the activities of my children. 

She was absolutely right. 

This summer, I have sat pool side with these three ladies at least twice a week (often more, with 4 practices and occasionally two meets a week!). So on average, 5-7 hours a week of togetherness!

This is not a glamourous sport. Swim practice for our swimmers starts at 8:30 in the morning, which means that on nearly every occasion, one of us hasn't showered, or is running late, or has forgotten a towel, sunscreen or goggles. 

We have seen each other sweat; we've talked about life; and cheered each others kids on in the pool. We've shared snack, sand toys, recipes, and they have shared their Quick Shades (which in Arizona is like calling you "family").

We have each others backs. 

My kids have participated in several different "sports" venues. From ballet to karate. Soccer to Basketball, but swimming has been the most social. 

Next week swimming season will wrap up. I'm a little sad. I'm gonna miss these gals. I'm gonna miss laughing, and talking, and just hanging out. 

J: You are an encouragement to me. Even though your hubby is stationed far away, you NEVER complain. You are positive and upbeat. That spurs me on to be grateful for what I do have, instead of what I don't.

D: You are always smiling and laid back, even when chasing three kiddos, and balancing all the paraphernalia. You rarely seem to get your feathers ruffled. That encourages me to me more flexible; to be more gracious.

S: This season has been hard on you as you encourage your child with medical problem. Seizures are scary and so very unpredictable. Yet, instead of letting that hinder you (and him), you have chosen courage; knowing that living life in fear isn't really living at all.

Swim Mom's, thank you for making the season so incredibly fun. Thanks for sharing your shade, and sharing a tiny bit of your life. 

I couldn't have done it without ya!

La Vida Dulce!