It’s a balmy 34 degrees outside, I'm sitting in an office where the heat doesn't really flow and what's my decision? I’m going
swimming. Even though this is my “aqua
insanity” night, I like swimming because it’s the only place where nobody can
reach me. Literally, if I swim with my
training snorkel I don’t even have to turn my head to breathe. My endurance is getting better and I can do laps, nonstop, for the better part of an hour without stopping. If I’m in that zone, the only person who’s
going to get my attention is the guard when they put the red buoy at the end of
the lane before you turn (that was horrible sentence construction,
huh?).
So I’m going swimming.
The weather outside doesn’t matter, and it’s not even about the activity. Swimming or any rigorous physical discipline,
just like many spiritual disciplines, helps to take the focus off self immediately
and allows it to be placed somewhere else.
That’s where beauty lives, in that refocusing.
And I desperately need a refocusing. Years ago, I desired to do more with my
life. We should always be careful of those heartfelt desires -- God gave me the desires of my
heart and opened doors for me to helm a nonprofit organization. It happens to be in one of the
poorest communities in the country, nestled within one of the wealthiest metropolitan areas in the country. “Challenge”
doesn’t even begin to describe it – the community I serve is in the country’s
poorest Congressional district, a place where 38% of the population lived below
the poverty level at the time of the last US Census. Our organization has a total of 8
buildings providing housing for 100 people living with HIV, 45 people
with mental health issues, and an additional 73 families. While it can be rewarding, sometimes I feel
like the weight of all these people– and my 30+ employees – rests squarely upon
my shoulders.
So I’m going to go review some charts, put out some fires, light
some fires under some other folk, and then I’m going where no one can reach me –
I’m going swimming.
