Little Moments. . . Huge Gifts

I am not a robot.

Therefore, I have emotional reactions to things. In this new endeavor there have been many moments when my body just wants to go somewhere alone and talk with God. Our conversation in those moments would mostly be (and has been) - - - "Wow. Are you SURE you want me doing this?"

The past week of digging in and really connecting with kids and hearing their stories has been hard. I could not love it more, but it has been hard. I have flipped life on its head in that I don't want the weekend to come. Sunday nights are a fight to sleep through, not due to anxiety, but excitement.

And it's hard. And when I say it's hard, I mean, it's beyond hard. If I could shut off the part of my heart that reaches down and feels what the kids feel it might not be as hard. But almost every time my eyes swell up with tears and I have to hold them back for the sake of the client.

Today, God gave me an amazing gift. It was a magical moment where I let the tears (only a couple) roll down my cheeks. It was perfect.

CrossFit. Yep. I went to CrossFit today. The workout was called Nancy. Apparently Nancy likes to beat up homeless teenage boys, and today she did a phenomenal job trying. . . but the boys did better.

I was there to mostly "encourage and empower" as the CEO directed me. So there was H, an overweight kid who has some developmental delays. Before we left for CrossFit I asked him if he was ready to have fun. He told me, "CrossFit isn't fun if you're a fat person." Hilarious.

So we head to the Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department's training facility. (How awesome is that? These kids run, lift and bust their rears right along side the cops. I love it!) We get ourselves together and find out the workout is Nancy, which consists of a 400 meter run followed by 15 overhead squats. H's workout was modified to 200 meters and 10 squats with PVC pipe.

It was intense. He was finishing his second of three rounds and halfway through his squats, I was seriously worried he might not make it. And by "not make it" I mean, I thought we were going to have to drag H back to the van or call a medic in. So I stood with him and with each squat I told him he was amazing and the more he did, the less he had to do. Then I ran with him. My walking pace was quicker than his jogging, but he was doing it. He came back, finished ten more of the PVC pipe with a rest between each one. But. He. Finished. . . as the sweatest kid on the track.

So then to the most amazing part. Each time, the female police officer that leads the group hands out a teddy bear. Yes. A TEDDY bear. A brown fuzzy one. The kid that shows the most "heart" walks home with BABs, the "Bad Ass Bear." That means that twice a week, about twelve homeless teenage boys are fighting through intense workouts for a TEDDY BEAR. It could not be more perfect.

H won the bear. He won the freaking bear. This is when tears rolled down. It was this absolutely perfect gift of a moment where something beautiful happened right in front of me. . . then, when we were in the van driving back, he announced to everyone "Part of this goes to Megan, because she inspired me."

How do you NOT have emotional reactions to moments like this? Eat your heart out Hallmark commercials. The Outreach, Inc. kids have you beat any day of the week.