Stuck…

A few years ago I flew to Norfolk, Virginia to compete in a bodybuilding competition.  It was held in Currituck, North Carolina where I went to high school.  It ended up being one of my worst competitions so that’s all I’ll say about that contest.  I did learn a few lessons which is the most important thing.  This blog comes from a journal entry written on the plane as I was returning home.  I think the easiest thing to do is share it with you exactly as written…

Terrible showing.  Placed 4th.  The competition was tough.  I was not ready.  The contest had a different format…they held pre-judging and finals all at once…at night.  My food and water were off because of the timing.  This won’t happen again.  Good to see my family.  Wish I could have performed better with my Father there.  I really miss Amy, Aleck, and Emma Grace.  As I have already written, this is the first time being away from them since they were born.  I’m just so happy they’re not in the hospital though and Amy is an amazing mother so I know we’ll be just fine.  If you’re reading this, you know I always try to find the lessons in every moment….  And one just came to me about 25 minutes ago:

After saying goodbye to my family, I made my way through the airport to my gate.  I couldn’t help but feel like a rat in the rat race with all the people scurrying around trying to get …somewhere…on time.  And as I rounded a corner to make a left hand turn just past a Starbucks, I had to slow down because something was causing a people jam.  The rats…I mean people in front of me started peeling away…streaming around the obstruction…right…and left.  As I neared what was blocking us, I heard the most colorful language I’ve ever heard…and I’ve seen a lot of war movies.  The crowd was clearing and I heard grunting and then…”@##$%$…..%^$$#^@….(*&&^^#@@%”…  I stopped to see people just walking by and saying nothing to a man….who had lodged himself…and his bags between a solid decorative rock trash can and a black metal bench.  He was stuck.  I mean really stuck.  The man’s face was as red as pizza sauce and sweat beaded on his forehead.  He had a nice suit on…though his belly had spilled out of his now untucked shirt.  His pink tie flew back and forth like a flag waving for help.  I stopped, looked at him, and said “Hey man…you need some help?”  He looked at me through his now bloodshot beady eyes and said “No!  I got this!”  And so…just like that, I became another rat peeling away and around…the stuck…wedged…fat rat.  About 15 yards away, I turned back to see no change had occurred…including the language.  Still wiggling…still cursing.  And so I made my way to my gate…and now here.  Now that I’m in my seat, on time, and comfortable, I can’t help but hope someone helped that guy even though his stubborn self didn’t want it.  And that’s a nice lesson….If you need help and know it…accept it.  It beats being stuck.  It has just occurred to me though… the most important step happens after being stuck…or maybe…maybe it’s better to happen…right in the middle of being stuck.  We hear it all the time….”She has baggage….He has baggage…Oh there is so much that comes with him/her”.   The truth is we all have baggage.  It’s ok.  But how much of it is unnecessary baggage?  Thinking about the stuck man who had a bag on each shoulder, a laptop under his arm, and a pull-along suitcase on rollers, makes me wonder how one person can carry so much anyway.  And that’s the thing…how much can we carry?  I certainly know what it’s like to be blindsided in life…leaving me wondering how in the world I ended up carrying a load I never thought I could hold.  How many bags can one person hold?  It is said ” God won’t give you more than you can handle.”  I do believe this.  I also believe “God helps those who help themselves.”  The fact is, sometimes we don’t need all those bags…sometimes we aren’t supposed to be carrying all that JUNK.  When we find ourselves stuck in life…wiggling, cursing, and stubbornly thinking we can get out on our own, I think we need to take a deep breath…and if we don’t fall out of being stuck by taking that breath..we need to pray…and whether or not we fall out then…we still MUST…MUST…MUST take a look at ALL the bags we’re carrying.  We may need to shed a few bags…or at least go through all the “stuff” in our bags.  Past circumstances, pain, failures, grudges, attitudes, bad relationships, unspeakable tragedy…all this stuff…filling up our bags.  Oh and here’s one we’ll reach in our bags and dig around for(especially in hard times) until our fingertips are bloody and our hearts are exhausted…CONTROL…and guess what?  It isn’t in there…It NEVER WAS.  I’m sure I’ll elaborate and put more to this story…maybe give a talk about it…write a piece on it…or just tell it to Aleck and Emma Grace…I know they will definitely get stuck in life….and maybe they’ll remember the “heavy, sweaty, stubborn, pink tie wearing, wiggling, grunting, cursing…severely stuck guy in an airport story”…Then they’ll hopefully stop and check their bags…ask for help if they need it…and most importantly pray for wisdom and guidance when they start the tough tough tough task of sorting through the stuff in their bags…. Anyway, now I have to sleep…Can’t believe I finished 4th…dang it.

So there it is…honestly it feels weird to share the words out of this tattered and torn red notebook.  I’m not sure why because a lot of my blog posts are inspired by my past journals.  Maybe because the words were written at such a vulnerable time in my life…anyway, I hope that if you are stuck…or one day find yourself stuck in life…You’ll remember the wiggling wedged guy in an airport story and find peace, guidance, and freedom in sorting through your “bags” 🙂

 

 

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