Gimme One Smore Squat!

In preparation for a weekend with teenagers, I did the essentials:

  1. Read The Hunger Games trilogy, the Twilight series, and watched all eight Harry Potter movies. So wrong. I know. But time was a tickin’.
  2. Next, I rented Glee, Lord of the Rings, Transformers, and X-Men.
  3. Before beginning my movie marathon, I picked up ten bags of potato chips, five cheese pizzas, and three bowls of extra-buttery popcorn. Washed it all down with several bottles of Jones’ Soda and one Super-sized Oreo McFlurry all while bopping to iTunes on my iPod and Oovooing sixteen friends. 
  4. The next day, I ventured to the mall for three body piercings, five tattoos and a pair of skinny jeans. In the end, the option to pick my nose u-turned me from the jewelry department, and the only part of my body sized for skinny jeans turned out to be my left pinky toe. BUT! I did get a tattoo! An airbrushed orange and yellow sun across my right bicep! Sunny! 
  5. Finally, to work off all the junk food, less than six hours before ascending onto the bus of juvenile jubilee, I worked out. I planned to arrive at the Youth Group Retreat with my toned teenage body. 
Before I give you the low down of the nail-biting dodge-ball games, moonlit capture the flag do-over, and blazing bonfire a la smores, let me describe the work out that woke up my hibernating muscles and left me walking like a ninety-eight year old. When I visited a new gym that advertised promises of disappearing pounds, I had no idea I was entering…the room of doom. The word “squat” interchangeable with “breathe,” the Squat Sensei — Greg Kalafatic — had us creatively squatting in every exercise. When lactic acid moved from my legs to my brain, I began hearing Bubba Gump’s voice: “Bend it, break it, work it, stretch it, lunge it, lift it and hold it. Rock it, crouch it, plunge it, force it, dive it, jab it and stab it. Dive it, jive it, sweep it, peep it, up it, down it, and repeat.” And repeat we did.  
A morning later, as I descended the camp steps toward the tantalizing scent of sausage, my quads screamed like a newborn wailing for milk, Mozart and Mommy. They were not happy. Several teens offered their assistance. Operation Teeny-bopper Blend-In — a fail on day one! Wahhh!

Photo Credit: Stephanie Loo


Well, besides the pimp limp that I could not side-step, my weekend with the teens marked one of the most deeply moving moments in my life. Not because I learned something new about myself or God. Rather, I witnessed the truth I’ve known for twenty years come alive and kickin’! As teens, who could have picked any other place to spend a long weekend, rose to their feet to proclaim: They were not alone. They were changed. And they wanted more.

The teens worked out spiritually, and they are charged because of it! Squatting spiritually will bring long lasting transformation as they continue to push through their pride, doubts, and unforgiveness. Because, as the teens learned these past few days, position matters. Especially, the position of your heart.
Went back to the gym today with a new attitude. I plan to fight through the pain. I greet my Squat Squad Leader with a salute and a smile. I will no longer settle for mediocre conditioning. I foresee future triumphs based on today’s small victories. And, I’m not gonna lie—I hope to share a pair of new Gap jeans with my soon-to-be teenage daughters. 

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