I get this whole running thing

After a weird ankle injury and the kids' sickness forced me to abandon my Couch to 5K running plan last fall, I've picked it back up again. I'm really getting addicted to this running thing.

You know, it's funny. There is so much about running that I love. I love the solitude that it brings. I love that I can't take kids with me, even if I need/feel like I have to. It forces me to be alone, which I need. I love the uninterrupted prayer time that it brings. I love the conversions I have with the Lord during that time. I love being outside, feeling the wind on me and seeing God's creation. I adore how I feel afterward - all jelly like with muscles tired and warm. (Girlie alert) I love the thought that I am going to start losing weight at some point. I think about all the clothes that I am going to be able to get back into.

It's more than that, though. I'm seeing my spiritual life through a running perspective. I am learning to draw so many correlations between running and my spiritual life. As far as running goes, I can learn about it, talk about it with people, read all about it, but as far as actually running, only I can do that. Only me. No matter if I run alone, or with 100 people, I am the only one that can run for myself. I think that way about my walk with Christ too.

I can go to church, have Godly friends, abstain from such and so, put on a great show, but it's really up to me what kind of walk I'm going to have. I'm the only one that can have my relationship with Christ. It's all up to me and me alone.

There's part of me that hates running too. It's hard. Each and every time I run, at some point, I'm yelling in my head at Robert (the guy that lives in my Ipod that tells me when to run and when to walk) that I don't want to do it anymore. I wonder if he fell asleep at his recording unit and forgot to tell me to stop running and walk. I hate that we live in a society that we even NEED to exercise. I hate that I live such a sedentary life and each such horrible food that this is even a necessity. I hate that running is becoming a hobby of mine and wish that eating chocolate and playing on the computer could be my hobby instead.

And I hate my spiritual walk sometimes too. It's hard. Really hard. That path is narrow, and so often times lonely and difficult. I so want to just live that lukewarm life, just doing enough to get by. I get worn down and beat up by the way that Jesus is constantly, and I do mean constantly, refining me. I get tired and discouraged. I get mad at God and question Him, wondering if He's truly gotten me all wrong.

I never, ever regret running. I feel so good afterwards. Those endorphins are cranking, my body feels good, and I know I doing good for me. I push on through the horrible part of running, in part because I know how good I'm going to feel afterwards.

I also get really cheesy sometimes, and picture my friends cheering me on, standing along the street, like I am a one woman parade. This makes me smile, and I run on, thinking of them there. I also picture me at the finish of my first 5K. And maybe something bigger after that. I picture how I'm going to go across that finish line, and what I'll do. I think about celebrating with the people that I want to run with me. That takes up a good 10 minutes or so.

That leads me to the obvious conclusion. I run this race, as Paul so beautifully put it, because of what lies at the end. I want to run well, to please my Father and show him my gratitude for what He did for me. I picture me face to face with Jesus, thanking Him for what He did for me. Instead of thanking him with my words and life, I'll finally be able to thank Him face to face. That keeps me going so much of the time.

And much like I so scarily imagine my friends lining the streets of my neighborhood, cheering my out of shape self on towards the next week of the Couch to 5K plan, I garner so much strength of those running alongside of me on the spiritual race too. Just like I read of those running marathons or just enjoying the torture, I mean pleasure, of a true running passion, and getting inspiration from them, I'm getting on with this spiritual walk with inspiration from those with me on that too.

I'm so thankful for the tangible people that God uses in my life to encourage me and cheer me on. And I love that they have no idea of what they are to me. I love that I get so much from them just because they are running their own race, with their eyes on their own prize. I am on their sidelines, praying for them, cheering them on, and they don't even know it. I trust God that they feel my prayers, and I'm so thankful for them. I'm crushingly thankful for those who are running hard. With passion. Both literally and figuratively.

That's why I've fallen in love with running.

Guess it wouldn't hurt to read it again

http://thoughtsfromanoverthinker.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-not-black-and-white.html

I want to live here!

The Sisterhood movie just reminded me of it, but I have always wanted to live here. They need missionaries, right?

Death is weird

Well, so it birth, for that matter.

I'll never forget the adjustment I had when Laney first came. I simply could not comprehend how a human was not there one day, and was there the next. Forever. It was so profound, so permanent. I mean, I knew she could die, but barring that occurrence, she was here for good. There was no escaping it.

When I came home from the hospital, I was shocked and amazed, truly, that there was mail on the kitchen table. The mail had run while I was off having a baby? How had the whole world not stopped when this new life came to be??? It was just overwhelming in my mind.

I'm perfectly aware that most people don't go through this when they have children. I admit that I didn't feel quite this way with the births of my other two. I was more used to it, but still marveled at the miracle of birth.

And death is no less amazing. How can someone be here one day, and then just .... not? It's just weird. They leave behind so much. Their stuff, the people they loved, their memories. But how, really, can they just go? As suddenly as they come, they are gone. It's just mind boggling to me. How can Buddy's clothes be in the dryer if he's really gone. He just wore them...


I lost my aunt suddenly, and my dear, dear friend to breast cancer far too early in her life. Those were hard to deal with. My dear friend lost his girl friend when we were in high school. That was also the purely awful, life-taken-too-quickly kind of death. Horrific in the raw, voluminous, copious, amount of grief. They shook me to the core. It made everything seem to superficial. Every time, I remember really wondering, "How are they just gone?" I always feel that way after someone leaves. Just... weird.


I've pondered death so much this last week. I lost my Granddaddy. My Daddy Buddy. It seems kinda normal to lose a grandparent. I think for me, it was losing something more. My grandparents stayed together. For better or worse. The only members of either side of my family that did. They were a safe haven for me in the midst of a not great childhood. They loved me, truly and unconditionally. I would have lived with them in a heartbeat. Daddy Buddy was one of my biggest fans. He was proud of me and let me know it.

I am trying to dissect my grief. WHY am I sad? Really? Part of it is very selfish. I miss him because he loved me so much.

I'm sad too, because I see my dad having to step into the patriarchal role. He has to take care of everyone now. In our family, that's saying a lot.

He told me that I'm the matriarch now too. Thanks. I'm struggling to potty train a 2 year old. Don't put me in charge of a family. I'm praying through what that all means.

I'm sad because of my grandmother. I'm worried about how someone gets along after 59 years of marriage. I think this is when her disease is actually a blessing. I was blessed too to see how many widow friends she has, all ready to step in and care for her. Formidable bunch, they are. Precious too. Getting along after all those shared years, alone.

I'm sad because my family is shrinking. After my grandmother is gone, my dad will be next. That's scary and sad.

I have to be careful with grief. I don't want to use it as an excuse to dive into myself. I don't want to wallow, just for the sake of wallowing. It feels good to grieve, in a way. You are allowed to focus just on how you feel about something. You just revel in your loss. You spin, ebbing and flowing in the grief. It's a very self centered, ego centric state of mind. I have sensed the spirit calling me back a bit. To process and experience, but them to dwell in praise and faith. That's what we're called to do.

People grieved in the Bible. I don't think it's wrong to grieve. But I think of David, who pulled himself up, cleaned himself up and went to worship his God. This is after he lost his son. Due to his own sin. I can't imagine a worse death to endure.

I don't want to dance long with grief. It's not a suitable partner. Emotions creep up on me unexpectedly, demanding that I tend to them. Telling me they aren't ready to go. I keep pictures of Buddy around me now. I imagine his voice. His hands. His love of red velvet cake that I got too. The laugh that was my very favorite. They are a little difficult now, but I know that they will soon be my favorite memories to experience.

I feel parts of me longing to get back to normal. I don't think it's healthy to grieve heavily for long. I don't think we're made for that. I think we're made to be peaceful, happy and content. Resting in Him. I have been. There's just a day I'd live without my King. Especially those days here lately.

So that's it. In a nutshell. There's been so much I've thought and felt, but there's no need to drudge it all up. My concern is for my beloved Mama Sue. I'm thankful for the good days she's had here lately. I'm thankful for my dad. I'm remembering that the hard, hard roads you walk with God really do bring you closer to Him. Those memories that are so painful and scary, become precious because He was there, teaching and guiding, comforting and healing you the whole time. Maybe that's part of why we have death. So we can know those parts of Him so much more than we would otherwise.

**Stupid Blogger won't let me edit the font problems here. So sorry about that.

Non New Year's Resolutions

Blue just feels like the new year to me. I don't know why.

I've been very in my own world since Halloween. The kids got sick back to back, then me, then Allen had his surgery, then there were the holidays, and I just let it all go. I'm not sure why, when things get so tough, I just give up. Quite the opposite of what I'm supposed to do .

Or maybe I just needed a vacation. A vacation from right. That's nice, huh? Today's sermon really spurred me on, helping me to get it all back together. I feel good when I'm doing what's right. I feel the very best.

• Back to good eating. I am going to lose these 15 pounds that I've courted for far too long. I don't like eating badly, and especially don't like how I feel when I do.
  
• Back to Bible study. I mean real Bible study.
  
• Exercise. I had such a great thing going. I truly looked forward to my exercise. I want to get back to that. So much of my life still depends on Zane, but I have to recognize that things are getting better with him, and I need to be encouraged with that.
  
• We are going to continue to be and get better at being good stewards of our money. Not eating out and being careful with our extra money are two biggies for us. I'm praying for discipline there.

So that's it. God has delivered me from so much that I needed to be freed from. There are almost no shows on my Tivo list, I canceled my 10 year subscription to "People" magazine, and I'm sure there are more changes to come. Not that reading "People" is bad or that watching some television is bad, but God is really asking me if I'm here to play or if I'm here to serve. I'm guessing He'll prune me more in 2009, and I'm okay with that. It hurts, it's not fun, but I'm always so very glad when it's over.

Goodbye 2008!

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It was a very Merry one!

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