Reisa calculated: in 8 weeks she had lost 10% body weight. She gave herself a 95% chance of succeeding in her new goal. Working out is fun as soon as it stops hurting.
————————————————————————-
The Trifecta weekend challenge is to give our own 50-50-90 rule as written by Andy Rooney.
Until I had figured it out in percentages I had not realized that the numbers on the scale worked out to a 10% weight loss. That is incredible to me. And encouraging to keep on keeping on. Thankful to my daughter for her encouragement – and her workouts.
🙂
The Lord’s my rock. In Him I hide. A shelter in the time of storm.
Jenna’s throaty alto contrasted with the younger, higher sopranos at First Raptured Assembly Church. She rocked back on her heels, lifted her face, and raised her hands in praise.
Glorys were shouted and Hallelujahs rang. Pastor Jamieson danced on the altar and clutched his hanky, dabbing at his lips.
“Praise God, sisters and brothers, praise God-a! We are in the presence-a of the Father today-a. Let the Holy Ghost-a lift you up-a to the Throne. The storms assail, but we prevail. Hallelelujah!â€
Outside thunder rolled.
——————————————————————————————————
Our country has had a wild few days weather-wise. People place their faith in many things. I imagine that many sang this hymn and clung to the hope that their Shelter would hold fast.
Written for Lance’s 100 Word Song wherein he chose Bob Dylan’s Shelter from the Storm.
She walked, limping, but unaided.
She walked, unclothed, altered.
She walked unknowing, unafraid.
Whence cameth this zombie?
Her name, it appears, is Felicia.
Gone twenty years, here now.
Stranger tales have been told.
Photo Credit: Zora Neale Hurston
————————————————–
The Trifextra weekend challenge tells the tale of zombies among us and asks us for our 33 words about the tale. This week’s entries will be community judged for 12 hours upon closing Sunday. Who is this community? If you are reading this, YOU are part of the community. If you could go over and read the other entries before you cast your vote, it would be ever so cool.
The candidates approached the podiums as the audience settled into their seats. The applause died down.
The moderator spoke each name in turn and watched as each began to tremble.
8th grade class elections had never been more fun, she thought. It was her mission, as Social Studies teacher, to introduce the nuances of politics past and present to these students. It was her personal goal to see one go on from her class to bigger and better things. She dreamed of a future president looking into the camera and thanking HER for the push she gave him (or her).
———————————————————————————–
VV asked for Tremble to be the focus of the week. I don’t often write about politics here – because it does make people tremble. And it makes me tremble to push – to prod – to work at other people’s scabs. I don’t like my own scabs picked.
But the above piece was inspired by the presidential debate which I am watching as I type.