cultivate (kuhl - tuh - veyt)
v. 1) develop 2) nurture

graft (grahft)
n. 1) transplant 2) bud 3) union

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Jumping In

Carefree days of jumping on the trampoline. Somersaults, bone-jarring games of "crack the egg", challenging yourself to new heights. Plopping down, exhilarated and spent from the effort.

Don't we all just love us some January?

Climbing down the three steps to the ground, bending at the knees, springing up with enthusiasm. Feeling a moment of familiar trajectory, only to meet the ground with a shocking jolt. 

Aaaaand welcome to February.

Resolve weakens, taxes beckon, Christmas decorations positively taunt you.* Not to pick on the runt of the litter, but February is kinda...well, blah. If drippy candles and sappy poems are your thing, then I guess it (and Hallmark) have something to offer. But one day of roses and waxy chocolates hardly make up for the twenty-seven Charlie Brown days that I sense hovering over this month.

We have an innate sense that we have been created for more than we currently are. It's the entire reason resolutions and fresh starts appeal to us. We know there's always room for improvement, and we oftentimes desire to work toward a better self. We gain a confident rhythm in January, and then mean ol' February reminds us that we're finite, and as such, positive changes are not handed to us on a silver platter. We lose our momentum and hit the ground with a most unpleasant jolt.

I don't know what you're struggling uphill to conquer, but I know this: February doesn't call the shots, and the trampoline is still there. Let's climb back on and try a teensy-weensy lil' bunny hop. We'll catch our stride and gain our momentum again-you'll see. You want to run a marathon? One foot in front of the other. You've got your eye on a promotion? Show 'em you've got what it takes. Writing your doctoral thesis? One page at a time. Committing to a cleaner house? Grab the duster. Desire to be saturated in The Word and experience a power-filled prayer life? Get on your knees. Want to stop snapping at your kids? Take a deep breath and count to ten (or, if you've some Irish blood, 100).**

February, you don't own us. We're unlacing our sneakers, and eyeing those springs.

Stocking-footed friends, let's do this. Flex those muscles, try not to clobber fellow jumpers, and remember: Don't lock your knees. 

Get Ready To Soar,


*Alright, maybe not you, but let's just assume some oblivious people (who clearly don't own a calendar) are unaware that they have to haul all that stuff back out in a mere nine months. Somebody remind me what an aneurysm feels like.

**Before all the Irish defenders rise up in mutiny, just RELAX. I'm touting my own Irish veins over here.

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