When God draws blood!

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Signed in and seated, the magazine pages that passed through my fingers held no interest. They were a poor distraction to the room that beckoned my anxious attention. Not my first, nor will it be my last blood draw. Yet my heart pounded at the not yet seen needle that awaited.

“Run away. Don’t go through with it,” were my thoughts.

My name rolled off the lips of the phlebotomist as a question. Has she had experience with people who bail at the dreaded image of the needle or the vials of blood that get sucked through the syringe? Maybe her inflection was to ask if I still remained in the waiting room determined to follow through.

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The Challenge of Being Challenged!

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Challenge Completed! (Read Day 1 “OK, Honey. Challenge Accepted!”)

Yesterday marked the final round of a throw down challenge with my husband.  His was a physical cleanse, mine was an emotional purge, figuratively speaking, as I blogged each of those days. He lost 27.5 lbs. and I gained awareness to 27.5 (at least) character defects I must now work on. Seriously!

I’m obsessive, insecure, prideful, anxious, overbearing, timid, empty, doubtful, complacent yet never satisfied over every single syllable.  More than daily, I threatened to withdraw, press into lies and excuses rather than press into growth.  Grateful for the accountability stamina of my cohort, I pushed forward and learned some valuable lessons.

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