My Ya-Ya Sisterhood

In no way am I in favor of my summer class. No way. I would like to initially begin by telling you that this is 100% obligation for me and that through the remainder of this blog, you are on my side. Can we chill?
Ok, so I am taking a water aerobics class this summer. Don't ask how I got suckered into taking a class where ninety percent of our time is spent dancing like ballerinas, just know that I am obligated to it. And before the class started for the summer, I began to psych myself into thinking that this was going to be fun. After all, it meant that I was going to be getting into shape and getting a nice tan so it couldn't be all bad. As I walked into the pool, all my thoughts on the matter changed dramatically. Apparently, the demographic age group was around 40-50 year old women, the kind who wear those frilly one-piece swimming suits with the skirts on them. The estrogen/ testosterone levels were way off, and they weren't tilting in my direction. Worst of all, I immediately felt violated. It felt like they were undressing me with their eyes! I am not a boy-toy pool guy; a am a human with feelings! So obviously, my day has started off great.
Then the workouts started. Day one went off without a sinch, really. We jogged to one end of the pool, jogged right on back, splashed around in the deep end for a while (this is where they have the advantage; those little frilly skirts helped to keep them afloat). Day 2 was a tad bit worse. The workouts weren't, I mean; the women were worse. All of a sudden, their little eye candy party ended as soon as I started to make them look bad. I smoked these chicks in every excercise we did- they were a piece of cake! I not only lapped some of these women, I double lapped them. Looking back, I feel ashamed to even tell you this. Afterall, it's not that hard to out swim a 60 year old, overweight, menopausal woman, but at least my self esteem rose half a point. As penance for being in shape, these women decided to kill me. Someone shouted out, "Let's play tag!" I know, I know, it's creepy, but keep in mind that I am legally obligated to take this class in order to graduate, so I have no choice but to join in. It started out ok, with everybody bobbing around aimlessly tagging each other and since I was the most agile one there, it wasn't that hard to dodge their attacks. But then they adapted, the species mutated! They strategically placed themselves in different places in the pool to be in my way so they could tag me. Call this creepy or smart, but all I gotta say is that I am a minor and thus, am somewhat protected by the law. They were able to take me down while resembling menopausal zombies: really slow and had constant heat flashes.
The rest of the week went pretty well. I figured as long as I faked my way through a few of their excercises and stayed ahead of the pack most of the time, they couldn't catch me and I wouldn't notice if they were checking out my tookish. However, I did notice how these women quickly turned on me. Slowly, and in phases, they no longer looked at me creepily, but instead glared at me hatingly. I made them look bad, which was just not going to fly. After all, the whole idea of women taking up any water aerobics class is usually to give them the impression of working out without any of the aching muscles or tiring excercises, thus giving them an excuse to eat desert again. They quickly began ways of trying to make me suffer, such as adding 5 pound weights to my ankles (I suspect in hopes to watch me sink while we tread water). Thankfully all of their ideas have fallen ineffective... so far.
So I wondered, why on earth am I in this class? How in God's great and mighty plan did He devise a way for me to spend my morning dancing around in the water? It took some time, but you are seeing the answer right now. As amazing as it sounds, I just love talking about the class. Under no circumstances would I ever want to do this on my own free will, but God has a sense of humor. And as I look back on some of my life, I notice just how that sort of thing works out. I mean, it finally makes sense why I was put in some of the weirdest, most awkward, boring, and even unique of circumstances- because I love just how bizarre they are. Like the time I was suckered into "the Knowledge Bowl" and had to wear a kilt. Or the time I nearly blacked out on the Ring of Fire. Or the time I almost got beat up by a gansta-homie for knocking on a door. The list goes on.
How many times are we put into situations and places where we just can't stand any longer? The times where we are raging mad or bored to wits or more awkward than a fat guy in a wet suit. Don't get me wrong, in each instant, God wants to move in your life in that moment but what if, just what if, that moment was designated for a great story later on. It cracks me up to see just how uptight humanity is. Pardon my French, but as Ferris Beuller said, "If I was to stick a piece of coal up some people's butts, two weeks later, a diamond would come out." Within this philosophy lies a dire truth- some people just don't like to live! I have seen so many good moments utterly ruined because somebody didn't see the silver lining in the cloud later down the road. That isn't without saying that life happens and some days are just plain rainy. Nobody is asking you to smile and wave all the time. Life is, however, beckoning you to live it every once and a while. Nothing is in vain in God's eyes. As I Chorinthians 15:58 says in the Message, "With all this going for us, my dear, dear friends, stand your ground. And don't hold back. Throw yourselves into the work of the Master, confident that nothing you do for him is a waste of time or effort." From deaths in the family to a Ya-Ya Sisterhood water aerobics class, nothing is a waste of time, it just sometimes takes time to figure out why it isn't a waste of time. So laugh at the times you had terrible break-ups, and chuckle when you remember just how bad your day went one day.
So, here's to all the rainy days we look back at now. Here's to all the weird people we've met, bad dates we've been on, to the number of times we've been flipped off while driving, cried in a cheesy movie, and let one rip in public. Life isn't glamorous. Thank God it's not. Otherwise, who would I make fun of in these silly little blogs I post?

KB