Last night, Ben and I watched “The Kite Runner.” We were both very moved, and went to bed with a genuine and heavy burden for Afghanistan, especially the children there.
Only in America could I go to bed torn up about Afghanistan, only to have a small hissy fit this morning about my Zumba class being messed up.
Turns out all Zumba is not created equal. I drove all the way to the other side of town to a different YMCA last night to squeeze in another class for the week. The instructor was different, but I thought – it can’t be that different. Well, it was. I guess there is a “Genuine Non=Prompted Zumba” and there is what I’ve been doing at my gym, which is the “Dancing to Latin Music with Prompts.” Confused? Well, I guess real Zumba is not prompted, meaning you just watch the instructor do a certified “Zumba” routine, and you try and learn it. My class is just a dance/aerobic instructor who is teaching us real Latin dance steps and throwing some aerobics in along with it – AND she is prompting us with a little microphone thingy. So, I totally couldn’t get into this legitimate Zumba class, and left half way through.
This morning, I went to what I hoped was my Zumba class, but the other instructor was there filling in. I asked her if she was going to do the “Non-prompting” kind of Zumba. She said “Yes,” so I left. I hope that didn’t hurt her feelings, but I was seriously SO DISAPPOINTED ABOUT THIS I NEARLY BURST OUT IN TEARS!!
So you see, this flipping on and off my concern for God’s world can only happen here. My Zumba class mess up was seriously SO IMPORTANT to me today, the entire country of Afghanistan faded away. I do not like when I have days like these. The smallness of my perspective humiliates and defeats me. Imagine my surprise when I began to rant in my mind about Zumba, only to hear the still small voice of the Lord ask me, “Are you still planning on praying for the children of Afghanistan today?”
To my dear friend Steph, I know you are totally laughing at me right now, which you should be. I love you!