I Just Wanted to Run

“Where do you find these people?”

This question has been asked many times over the years. Usually it’s a close friend or family member who mumbles it as they stare wide-eyed into the distance, thinking about whatever bizarre situation has unfolded.

The latest off-beat situation took place in a very innocuous place… our sweet, little neighborhood park.  We should have known that it was going to be a strange run, since the park smelled like Limburger cheese. It’s been my experience that any time a place smells like cheese, and it’s not a cheese factory, it means that something is not right.

But we shrugged it off, and started our walk.  A few minutes into our workout,  we pass by a lanky man with two kids hanging out by a folded table set up just off the walking path.

“Ah, now you two look like a couple who wants to get in shape!”

Did he just call us fat? “Well, yeah…”

We stop (Mistake #2), and he tells us about an exercise group that he’s involved with. Overall, it seems pretty great. You pay for a month, but you have unlimited exercise classes. They have them all over Houston and you can go as many times as you wish throughout the four weeks.

So at this point, I’m going through all my chit-chatting techniques and am ready to move forth with our jog. After all, my interpersonal skills are very limited and after we found out he’s married and has five kids, I was pretty much out of things to say. I do the shift-weight-to-my-back-foot thing to show my eagerness to run. He asks are names, shakes The Fiance’s hand, then shakes mine.

He stops smiling.

“WOOOO what happened to your arm???” (Please read this with extreme enthusiasm, since that is how he put it forth to the world)

I tell him that I have a ligament disease and do my lighthearted shoulder shruggy thing. You know, so folks don’t think it’s something worse than it is. You remember Gumby? Pretend my mother was stepping out with Gumby… I’m the end result.

Instead of doing the normal, “Oh, my grandma has carpal tunnel” or something along that line (by the way, carpal tunnel really isn’t the same thing, but whatever….), he seizes my arm and stares into my eyes.

“I can pray that away.”

My arm?

“God gave me the power to heal.”

Wow- geesh,  I can’t even get the DVR to work right.

“God didn’t design you to have flaws.”

Er..who did then?

By this point, I’m just nodding. Now, don’t get me wrong,  I don’t doubt his utmost sincerity. And in truth, who am I to judge anyone based on their beliefs?

Then he grabs both arms, and tells me that he hopes he can pray over me sometime soon. He can make me whole again.

I thanked him and off we ran..quickly.

As we jogged, The Fiance and I tried to decipher what happened.  We couldn’t figure out if he was going to help heal my disease or make my rockin’ scar go away. Truth be told, we couldn’t decide which would be more impressive.

We should have stopped when we smelled the cheese.

Thanks barber surgeon!