Week of Tenacity

I was a swimmer in college and every year we would have our first week of training after a summer off. In normal schools, this was called "hell week" but since I went to a Christian university, we called it the "week of tenacity", much more appealing to the ear, but none less grueling. We would have two-a-days swimming with weights every other day. The idea was to whip your body into shape that first week so that the following weeks wouldn't seem so hard (or at least that's how I thought of it).

Well, this week has definitely been our week of tenacity. Rebs and I have both had times where we either cried or wanted to cry or punch something/someone. We've been transitioning into a new city and a new job in a country where English is definitely not the first language. On top of it, this isn't something we chose for ourselves, both of us being planner's by nature. We were released from our previous jobs unexpectedly, without explanation, at the end of our contracts.

Classes started this week and we have both felt overwhelmed by it. It isn't that our jobs are difficult, but more that they are unfamiliar. In fact, there isn't much in our lives that is. Our apartment, our friends, our offices, our city, are all less than 2 weeks old. I hate that feeling of not being in control. I want to buy a TV cable. I want to go to the downtown produce market. I want to buy a sofa for my living room. But I don't know how to do any of it. The delivery guy calls me on the phone, but we can't communicate with each other. It's these things that I'm dealing with on a daily basis.

I have to keep reminding myself that everything I do is a step in the right direction. I've felt like God is teaching us to let go of our control. Every time I drive down the wrong road, I have become more familiar with my surroundings. I know that that's not the right way, narrowing my choices. Eventually, maybe I will have gone down all the wrong roads and then I'll know which ones are shortcuts. It's just a matter of time. Every time something doesn't work, I re-think things and try something else.

One good thing that happened tonight was that we went climbing with our friend Bryan at the climbing gym near our house. We are all out of shape, having not been able to climb for the past few weeks due to the transition. But there is something purifying about working hard that I enjoy. Rebs says I'm weird for enjoying pain, but I hardly see it as pain anymore. Just progress. We climbed hard for 2 hours, finishing with pull-ups and abs, the same as was our routine 2 years ago when we trained regularly in a gym in Seoul. I enjoyed every bit of sweat and pain because it cleanses me. I left refreshed, feeling that familiar feeling, no more in control than I ever am, but satisfied.