Getting Fit
So how exactly did God woo this girl? If I had to sum up five years (all almost-25 years would be too hearty a task for even this expert introspecter), six journals, and who-knows-how-many ontological crises, f-word splattered questions and snarky comments, and countless more moments of unexplainable joy and thankfulness, this would be the synopsis for the Cliff's Notes version:
Ironically, it took having my entire world crumble before me to release my fists from their tight and self-righteous grip on legalism and purity. Only in the aftermath of anger, hopelessness, and numbness did compassion begin to show its surprising, redemptive, and mischievous face.
And those fits of unwarranted compassion are what I now call God—if I had to put a name to it.
At the risk of turning into my own smiley face sporting, life-is-rainbows-and-butterflies worst nightmare, I will occasionally be posting about some of the gifts of grace and friendship, love and lessons, second chances and joy (stop your groaning) that God has freely and mercifully given me. I apologize in advance for my lack of wit-filled cynicism in these posts, but I will not apologize for the goodness of a God that turned this scoffing cynic into a devoted daughter.
These posts I will title "Getting Fit" to stand for "Fits of Unwarranted Compassion" (I was going switch it to Unwarranted Fits of Compassion to get the hip acronym "UFC", but apparently that name is already taken and I wouldn't want another WWF/WWE type lawsuit on my hands, and the alternative, "FUC" is even more unfortunate. So stay tuned for my thoughts on Getting Fit. I'll try not to use too many exclamation points.