A New Walking Routine

 

Lately I’ve made two changes to my walking routine. One was forced upon me by construction. Our commuter railroad is being extended to run a branch line about a block behind my condo. I’m fine with the railroad, but it has taken away two of the three bike paths I normally use for my walks. There are other bike paths in the area, but unless I want to double the time I’m out, I would have to drive to them.

One of my regular hiking trails runs along the tracks and is currently totally out of commission. They may open it again when the work is done, but there are no guarantees. For the second, the path still exists, but the construction blocks easy access. The access point will probably reopen since it is part of a greenway that runs from Indiana into Illinois, but I don’t know when that will happen. In the meantime, I have to go out of my way to get there—either driving or walking along a busy street. The busy street has sidewalks, but it’s can be hard to maneuver around people when using trekking poles.

That’s the other change, and this one is completely voluntary. I walk for exercise three days a week, plus walking to church and sometimes to do errands. Those walks exercise my lower body, but I’ve been less consistent about exercising my upper body. Then I read an article stating that trekking poles are good for upper body exercise. They aren’t a fast way to build strength but they are an improvement over what I have been doing. Besides, I’m not as concerned about building muscle as I am in keeping it from atrophying.

The trekking poles took a little while to get used to and using them correctly slows down my normally fast walking speed, but they allow me to exercise my lower and upper body simultaneously. And since I listen to audiobooks while I walk, it’s an efficient use of my time.

So I’m glad I got the trekking poles.

Now if I could only get my other walking paths back.

Look Around You

 

Between Holy Week/Easter, taxes, and camera club responsibilities, it’s been a busy two weeks. So rather than getting farther behind on my writing, I decided to reprint a 2/28/18 post from the Indiana Writers’ Consortium blog. Here it is with minor changes and a parenthetical.

Look Around You

Story ideas can pop up anytime, anywhere. You just have to look around you.

I took this photo when visiting the Grand Canyon in 2014. The situation it portrays could be the foundation for anything from a sweet story about a man and his pet raven to a tale of horror centered around a rabid raven loose in a popular tourist spot.

Or maybe you are at a restaurant for a Conference Committee meeting when a drama unfolds outside, which happened on Saturday. I had my back to the window but the reactions of the Committee members sitting across from me told me that something interesting was going on. Later, one of the Committee members described the events occurring in the parking lot—events that started as a pet drama and escalated into a family one. I’ll let her or other Committee members write that story, but it could well be the prompt for a funny or tragic or heart-wrenching one. [As I said, I didn’t actually see it, and I may not remember it correctly after all these years. But I think it started with two cars parked next to each other and the drivers arguing over who got to take the pet dog, and it ended with close to a full-blown fight while the children stood around crying. If I were telling the story, it would probably center around pet custody.]

Then there was the time when my mother and I were returning from a writers’ conference in New Mexico. We had boarded the plane and were waiting for the doors to close when a flight attendant put out a plea for someone to give up his or her seat. My mother and I just wanted to get home, so neither of us was interested, and the airline was only looking for one seat, anyway. The flight attendant kept increasing the incentives as she got more and more desperate. Finally, an older woman jumped up and said, “I’ll take it.” But it was what happened next that made the situation interesting. Apparently she was traveling with two younger women (presumably her daughters), and they argued with her all the way to the door. In the end, she left and they stayed. I went home and wrote a story about a self-sufficient woman who stood up to her over-protective daughters and got to finish the vacation she hadn’t been able to fully enjoy while they were along.

So if you need an idea for a story, just look around you.

Victory Over Death

 

Yesterday was Easter, which celebrates Christ’s victory over death. But He didn’t do it for Himself. He conquered death for me. Oh yes, I’ll still die physically, but my life will go on in wonderful ways I can’t even begin to imagine.

That’s why I want an Easter hymn at my funeral. In particular, I want “The Strife is O’er, the Battle Done.”

It’s an old hymn with an anonymous author, and it first appeared in a 1695 hymn collection called Symphonia Sirenum Selectarum. Francis Potts translated it into English in 1859.

Each stanza of the hymn has three parts. The first deals with Christ’s battle with the forces of evil, the second with His victory over them, and the third with our praises. Each verse ends with “Alleluia,” and the hymn itself begins and ends with a string of three Alleluias. Depending on the hymnal, there are minor differences in the words, however. Here they are from The Lutheran Service Book:

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

The strife is o’er, the battle done;

Now is the victor’s triumph won;

Now be the song of praise begun.

Alleluia!

The pow’rs of death have done their worst,

But Christ their legions hath dispersed.

Let shouts of holy joy outburst.

Alleluia!

The three sad days have quickly sped,

He rises glorious from the dead.

All glory to our risen Head!

Alleluia!

He broke the age-bound chains of hell;

The bars from heav’n’s high portals fell.

Let hymns of praise His triumph tell.

Alleluia!

Lord, by the stripes which wounded Thee,

From death’s dread sting Thy servants free

That we may live and sing to Thee.

Alleluia!

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

Of course, Christ didn’t just die for me. He died for you, too. Even if you don’t use this hymn at your funeral, I pray it will resound there.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! Alleluia!

__________

The picture at the top of this post shows a relief on the exterior of Helsinki Cathedral. I took the photo on our trip to Finland in 2019 as part of a Baltic cruise.

A Majestic King

 

This is Holy Week, which runs from Palm Sunday (yesterday) through Saturday. So this week I’m concentrating on one of my favorite Palm Sunday hymns: “Ride On, Ride On in Majesty.”

The term “majesty” has several meanings, but the ones listed first in my dictionary are 1) “the greatness and dignity of a sovereign” and 2) “the sovereignty and power of God.” On Palm Sunday, Jesus came in humility, riding on a donkey. In those days, kings rode into a city on a donkey if they were coming in peace and on a horse if they were coming as conquerors. Yet even though Jesus came in peace, His entry on a donkey also foreshadowed His role as conqueror/.

The hymn contrasts Jesus' greatness and dignity with His humility and obedience, while showing that they were really the same thing. Here are the words:

Ride on, ride on in majesty!

Hark! all the tribes Hosanna cry;

O Savior meek, pursue Thy road,

With palms and scattered garments strowed.

 

Ride on, ride on in majesty!

In lowly pomp ride on to die.

Oh Christ, Thy triumphs now begin

Oe’r captive death and conquered sin.

 

Ride on, ride on in majesty!

The angel armies of the sky

Look down with sad and wond’ring eyes

To see the approaching sacrifice.

 

Ride on, ride on in majesty!

Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh.

The Father on His sapphire throne

Awaits his own anointed Son.

 

Ride on, ride on in majesty!

In lowly pomp ride on to die.

Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain,

Then take, O God, Thy pow’r and reign!

__________

The image at the top of this post, titled “Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem,” originated as a fresco from the hermitage of St. Baudelius of Berlanga and was subsequently transferred to canvas, which is now at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. The fresco was created in the 12^th century. I don’t know when the copy was made, but the image is in the public domain because of its age.