My favorite mornings, I wake up at 5:15 am. I roll over, pretty groggy even if I have gone to bed at 8:30. I search for my dog, and on great mornings it’s not much of a search because she has already hopped into bed moments before. I stumble downstairs, load and hit the Keurig button (which, of course, was already full of water) with a perfectly clean coffee mug. I pull on my shoes and smile that I left my gym bag in my car since I knew I’d need it the next day. My dog at this point has come downstairs, hearing the rustling as I open up a Larabar. I make her sit and give her a treat. She stays still as I grab my coffee, head out the door, and make it into the gym 5 minutes before class starts, enough time for a little extra mobility work and some friendly (albeit groggy) chat with the people I am grateful to spend my 6am workout with. I power through a great workout (of course it’s powerlifts and box jumps… because I’m relatively good at those) and I finish first. I do a little extra work after class, because, you know, I’m that serious. I go home, shower, get ready in enough time that I can sit in my office for a few minutes reading my daily scripture by myself before turning to just a few e-mails that need to be answered before working on the sermon for the week (of course, it’s only Tuesday and I’m already working on the sermon a month from now). A little lunch, some phone calls to the new faces we saw Sunday morning (and all of them love Weddington!). I go home, cook a perfectly Paleo meal for dinner and then snuggle on the couch with my dog and a good book, before getting to bed promptly at 8:30 to start it all over again.
And then there’s reality.
Most mornings, I hit snooze 5 times. I cannot find my dog anywhere and panic for a minute that she has snuck out into the street before finding her rolled up on the clothes I was planning on wearing. Those clothes are now covered in dog hair, so I’ll have to find something else when I get back from the gym. I hit the button on the Keurig and realize there isn’t water. I pour water into the Keurig, hit the button again, head to the bathroom, and hear the sound of coffee hitting the kitchen counter and floor since I forgot to put a coffee cup under it. As I get into the car, I realize I forgot my lifters (why did I bring them inside?), go back into the house to grab them then back to the car, realize I forgot my coffee, go back into the house and grab it, get back into the car, realize I am starving and forgot food, go back into the house and grab the empty Larabar box… a banana will have to do–no time for almond butter, either. I return to the car to find my dog has decided to get into the car, since I left both the doors open. I can’t get her out. I finally do and shove her back into the house. I get to the gym 3 minutes late. Burpees. Of course it’s burpees. Why burpees?!?! (Can we ban burpees?) 15 burpee box jumps in, I clip my toe on the box. I finish last. I go home, shower, realize I still have the problem of the dog-haired clothes. Nothing in my closet. I’ll have to do laundry later, but for now I piece together something that looks somewhat normal. I get into work later than I’d like, so I skip my devotion. Already there’s someone standing at the door with a question. 9 o’clock comes and I still haven’t started my sermon. Have I mentioned it’s Thursday? I get home around 9:30, search the empty fridge and settle on a mix of fruit, eggs, and chicken that I really really hope is still good. But I have Friday off, so I can afford a bout of food poisoning, right? I go to bed at midnight.
Anyone else have days like these? Anyone else wonder where their days have gone in the midst of the busy? Anybody have dreams that your perfectly scheduled day will look exactly like you plan?
Yep. We all do.
And yet, for some reason we feel challenged to have it all together. We feel as if the grace of God does not cover us if we didn’t spend exactly 2.5 hours in Bible study before our feet hit the ground running.
Seriously.
But here’s the thing. On days when my shins hit the box and I bail a back squat that I really really (REALLY) wanted to nail that day, I chalk it down as a process. I move on. I come back the next day and try it all again.
And you know what? Banged up shins still got some work done. Dropped back squats still strengthened muscles. And your quick prayer as you shovel food down your mouth coming through the driveway is still a connection to God. Albeit small, it’s there.
So give yourself grace today. God sure does.
Faith and Fitness 
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