Road Block

Running. I love the sore, sweating feeling after a long hard run. I love feeling like I can do somethings that other mortals see as impossible. I love feeling the cold on my face on an early morning run and watching the sun wake up the land. I love using my feet to explore. It is my quiet, my rest, my place of escape. Running is my passion, but I often allow myself to be side tracked by the warmth of my bed or the excuse that, "I am too busy." That is until, the pain in my foot says that I can not make that early morning pilgrimage or that afternoon date with the treadmill. Now that I can't run, I lament that my plan to try to run an ultra with my husband might not happen this year. Before, I made excuses not to run, now I wish that the doctor's diagnosis could be wrong. Well, at least he didn't tell me that I can't run ever again. The recovery from the surgery should only take a few months. It is shorter than it could be. I will take it and enjoy the time to focus on other things that I often overlook because I can do them. Today, I will read with my daughter, play games with and listen to my sons, smile at my husband, and cuddle my baby. There will come a day when they won't ask me to listen, to play, to read, to cuddle. I don't want to regret not taking each opportunity to love them right now. I will also take a moment to worship and praise the mighty King of Kings and Lord of Lords who will one day command all the worship and praise of all peoples. What a joy to praise out of a full heart and not one of fear!

I forgot. . .

I must add one other important first of last weekend. I forgot it because it didn't happen until Sunday. Our oldest boy took his first Lord's Supper. He had been baptized last week. In writing about his experience, he said that it made him, "feel a part." What a blessing to see a child appropriate his faith and begin to act on the things that he claims to believe. A challenge to me to live my life so that my belief is evident in my actions and not just lip service. Well, I'm off to "act" out my faith that I am a runner and put the souls of the shoes on the rubber of the mill. :)

First

Today, was the first snowfall of this winter. I love snow! I got to run my first trail run. It also happened to be my first half marathon. I've wanted to go that distance for quite some time, but this was my first opportunity. It was my first time running in Cheyenne Mountain State Park. Beautiful! Especially with the snow! Today was also, my baby boy's first birthday. Thank you, God, for the blessings that you have generously heaped on me. Thank you for the life of Luke, and all that he means to our family. Thank you for your undeserved goodness in our lives. Thank you for firsts that we can celebrate and rejoice in. Thank you for legs to run, for the beauty of your creation; thank you for your majesty, your control of all, for your perfect plan, for the ways that you care for the world that you made and the people that you put into it. Thank you for caring for me. I am humbled at your consideration of me and the things that concern me.

"I Don't Like the Sauce."

Sometimes, my children complain. Last night at dinner, my daughter expressed her opinion about the spaghetti sauce on her plate. I leaned in and taking her face in my hands, I gently reminded her of our conversation earlier in the day about how we need to be thankful for food to fill our tummies. We talked about how even food that we don't enjoy eating is better than none at all. Thinking back to her struggle with the sauce I thought about all the other food items on her plate that she really enjoyed. It was convicting to me that I can look at a "plate" full of "food" and yet complain. There are days that I wish that my plate were not as full. But when I take a step back and think of all that would have to happen for the plate to empty, I reconsider. I am humbled that My Father thinks that I can handle all that He has dished up for me. I am thankful for each hug, each "Mommy, I need. . . ," and each opportunity to create relationship with my husband and children. I am again thankful that God is willing to keep teaching me. I am thankful that He uses the little tools in His tool box. Today, I will be thankful for the things that fill my plate and consider that without them, my life would be very empty indeed.

Walls

I struggle with getting angry at my children. I think that the real root, is my own selfishness and impatience. Last year at the end of the school year, we worked on memorizing several verses about controlling our spirits. One verse talked about how an angry man is like a city without walls. We talked, of course, about how in ancient times walls were a means of protection. That Proverb then says that an angry man who isn't showing self control leaves himself open to attack. Meditating on this verse, I also remembered the Proverb that says that a wise woman builds her house, but the foolish woman tears hers down with her hands. It was like I was seeing my family as a ruined city without walls. It seems as if my anger has the ability to leave my family open to the attacks of the enemy, but I can partner with God in protecting them if I submit to the Holy Spirit so that He can control my spirit and help me to be a wise woman who build up the walls of my house. I desire to be like Nehemiah and be a wall builder who is busy protecting the hearts and faiths of my precious children and husband. Lord, Please keep my tongue from evil. Help me to speak grace and kindness into the lives of my children and husband. Help me to smile at and delight in them. Please replace my sinful anger with Your joy.

Keeping them safe

So, I confess, I am obsessive compulsive. Last night, I sat down to read for twenty minutes and two and a half hours later, I finished the book and went to bed. The book was a children's historical fiction work that wasn't exceptionally well written, but it added some interesting detail to the time of the Judges in the Old Testament. Since I have just finished reading that portion of the Bible with my children, the stories are fresh in my mind. Really thought it was the repeated warnings issued in Scripture that echoed in my mind as I thought about the story this afternoon. God told Israel over and over again that they would be safe and prosper in the land if they obeyed and served only Him. Over and over again they forgot God and their promises to obey Him. The cycle of Israel's disobedience, punishment, repentance, and deliverance repeats all through the Old Testament. God warned and proved repeatedly that He would protect His people if they obeyed. In the story, the Israelite women were often captured and sold as slaves during a period of Israel's disobedience. The fathers were unable to protect their families because of their disobedience to God. It struck me that when I disobey, I am leaving my family open to the attacks of Satan. It is not just myself that is in peril. I am sacrificing my children when I seek my own way. I am putting myself in a position that makes it impossible to protect them. Is anything that I desire worth the souls of my children? Is there any sin that I wouldn't rather confess than see my children pay the price? I might say that there isn't, but do my actions line up with my words? Am I living an obedient life? One that will bring blessing to my family? Or am I living for self? Galatians 6: 7-9 were the verses that we read in family devotions tonight. Am I sowing to the flesh or to the Spirit? My reward is sure. I need to work for a harvest of righteousness.

Mercy

As a kid growing up, I learned that Christ sacrificed His life on the cross for my sins because He loves me. While it is true that Christ was motivated by love and even love for me, I have grown to understand that His primary motivation was something even more amazing. He was motivated by His love for and therefore obedience to the Father. Jesus Christ chose to lay down His life because He loves the Father and true love necessitates obedience. Christ "became obedient unto death, even death on a cross." (Philippians 3) Christ was willing to endure that pain of the cross because He was an obedient Son. His obedience wasn't grudging or angry; it was willing. A submission to the will of the Father that wasn't unaware of the cost, but was willing to obey for the "joy that was set before Him." (Hebrews 12:2) I am thankful for His willing obedience as it is the source of my life, my salvation from the power and penalty for my own sin. But His obedience is more, it is the example that I must follow if I am to be a "friend of God." (John 14-15) I am so far from that place of willing, happy obedience. I want my way. I want what pleases my flesh. I desire my comfort, my happiness at the expense of those that I love and even at the expense of obeying my Father. So, I come again and remember His happy obedience, His quiet answers to Pilate, and I am encouraged to let go, to say, "Mercy" and submit to the will of the Father, and to give up my hold on my desires and let Him be God.

Thank you, LORD, for Your example and Your mercy that keeps teaching the lessons that I struggle to learn. Thank you for a day set aside to remember Your victory won through submission.

I ran!

So, my husband thinks that because he is training for several races, that I must want to keep up. Yesterday, he essentially sent me to run a 5K. Because I am so obedient, he didn't have to throw me out of the house and lock the door, but he threatened to.

On the drive over, I had that short-of-breath, I-think-that-I-could-throw-up feeling that I always get when I think about racing and as I type race reports (right now!) Just like at the last two races that I went to, I met a woman who was running her first race. I am a new runner magnet! The format of this run was different in that runners were given a handicap. I was supposed to start running when the clock had counted down to 7.04, but I missed it and started at 6.32. The nerves then pushed me to run to catch up the missed 30 seconds in the first half mile of the course. Since I always run the first part of a run too fast, this didn't bode well for a negative split and a well-run race. I had fun for the first half. I'm not sure where the pain won, but when I made the last turn and looked along the trail to the finish nearly half a mile away, I thought that I would rather walk than run right then. I knew that it was time to pick up the pace, but my mind refused to cooperate. I finally did kick it in, when a female runner tried to pass me near the finish. I guess, I finally decided to stop being lazy. Miracle of miracles, my split time was only six seconds slower for the second half. Amazing for me for a normal race, but even more so since I was in panic mode for the first mile or so. I was rather pleased with the time. Not my fastest 5K, but respectable only six months after baby number four and especially considering that I was up nursing at 3:15 a.m. the night before. I'll take it. I'm not sure that I want to run another for awhile, but I did run at least one!

Victory!

Yesterday, something happened that made me "jump up and shout" happy. I know it is a trivial thing, but it made me smile; I am still smiling! My three-year old daughter said, "This banana is healthful." In an earlier conversation with her, I had mentioned the distinction between the use of the words "healthy" and "healthful." She not only listened, but also applied what we talked about! Any time a child learns a lesson, it is cause to rejoice for a homeschooling parent, but this was especially sweet because my young child is exhibiting a better use of the English language than many people. Dr. Chapman (my teacher for Advance Grammar and Composition) would be very proud; I am very proud!

Broken

Last week, while the kids had swimming lessons, I talked with the mother of another child. The mother asked if we home schooled. Her question led to a discussion of home schooling. I admit that I was feeling a bit defensive, so I fired off several comments designed to wow her socks off. It almost seemed that as I talked, her eyes widened visibly. At one point in the conversation, she said, "Do you have more hours in the day than I have?"

Later, as I thought about our exchange, I thought how I would answer that mother or anyone who asked me why I choose to take the responsibility of teaching my children at home, when it would be far simpler to send them to school for free for eight hours each day. I think that the correct answer to that question should be that I have been redeemed by Christ to serve Christ. The areas of service that I have been called to and equipped in are those of being a wife and a mother. Home schooling happens to be one way that God has given me to spend my life for others. But just like most people, I am tempted to hold on to my life, my desires, my needs; I am tempted by the lies spoken around me that I have to protect my time, my interests, myself, or no one will. I must actively reject the lies and remember that the One who poured out His life for me asks the same in return. I am the friend of Christ in so much that I am willing to pour my life out for Him in service to my family. He will provide for me and someday, if I faithfully complete my task, my children and husband may have reason to rejoice in my service to them. Then, my reward will be greater than the enjoyment promised by seeking my own way and interest now. In a way, isn't that what Moses did when he rejected the opportunity to stay in the palace of Pharaoh, and instead went into the wilderness. He later reaped the rewards of following God when following God didn't make sense. I am thankful for the reminder.

And so, I am thankful that I had the opportunity to discuss home schooling with that mother; not for her sake, but for mine.

Ripples

"Broken, hun?" My three-year-old asks about her apple slices at the lunch table. Having cut the apples myself, I know that they are indeed "broken," but I go along and answer, "No." She is thrilled that she is able to trick Mom, and I think back to the silly trick that inadvertently started our now-popular dinner game. I'm sure that our friend doesn't remember holding up a cut apple and saying those words, but my children haven't forgotten the thrill of tricking their table mates about the wholeness of their fruits and vegetables.

As my daughter relished tricking me, I thought about how often the things that we do without thinking have lasting effects. Then I thought about the letter that I received this week informing me of the death of a friend and former professor. I can't hang a picture without remembering her beautiful apartment. I owe the title of this blog and my love of English Romantic poetry, well any poetry really, to her unique and passionate teaching. I keep attempting to enjoy the works of Joseph Conrad, because he was her favorite. Needless to say, her personality contributed to the tone of my own teaching and therefore to the lives of my children and students. The way that she lived and the person that she was changed me.

As a child, we had a huge mud puddle that we played in at Grandma and Grandpa's house. I remember throwing rocks in and watching the ripples spread out across the surface of the water. Just as my teacher influenced me and that friend influenced my children, my life is creating ripples that affect the lives of those I spend time with. Lord, I pray that my life will draw my children and others into a deeper understanding of and relationship with You. Please make me a woman of grace, who speaks joy and love into the hearts of those around me.

Time to try Conrad. . . Again!

To run or not to run?

I read a book review and on a whim put the book on hold at the library and forgot about it. When the kids and I picked up our twenty-five books the other day, the novel was mixed in with books about Turkey and sign language videos. Last night, I managed to finish the novel about a distance runner. It was not my usual fare, and I could have done without several parts of the book, but it got me to thinking. That and part of an article in Runner's World.

Distance running is all about pain and learning to enjoy and manage the pain. I would even go so far as to say that distance runners relish and delight in a certain amount of pain. Maybe you could say that they don't enjoy the pain for its own sake, but they love the outcomes achieved when they push through pain that their minds say that they can't survive.

I used to enjoy the pain and also the power that came from disciplining my body to do things that others thought were crazy; I remember running just for the joy of running and winning. Now running is my escape, the place I go to be myself. It is a guilty pleasure. My mind argues both for and against the merits of investing the time, the sweat equity, that are necessary to run races to win. So I continue to run and to wrestle with the place that running should have in my life. I want to be a runner once again, but fear the investment that I already know it will ask.

Reading that book made me sad. It reminded me that I was once a runner too.

The Praise of Men

My kiddos are taking swimming lessons. The lessons are proving to be a source of learning beyond how to be comfortable in the water, and the children are not the only ones learning. Getting into the car after lessons the other day, my son told me that he had asked his teacher if she was a Christian. "What did she say?" I asked. "She said that she was, and asked me if I was a Christian." My heart's response condemns me. I was afraid. I like flying under the radar, not drawing attention to myself. Now the spotlight has been focused, the microscope brought to bear. Then this morning, I read John 12:42-43 which says, "Among the chief rulers also many believed on him; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him, lest thy should be put out of the synagogue: For they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God." Lord, thank you once again for using the courage of a child and the Sword of Your Spirit to get to the heart of the matter in my life. Please forgive my fear and my concern with the opinions of those who will not judge my days.

Sorrows come. . .

"Sorrows come To stretch out spaces in the heart for joy."

It has always been a fascination of mine to think of how Joy and Sorrow are two sides of the same coin. The idea that we cannot appreciate true joy without having sorrow to contrast with it has been a theme I've found in much literature and also explored in my own writing. I'm sure that there have been past experiences that have borne this out in my own life, but most recently, I've seen this in my feelings toward our newborn son. I have loved all of our children and delighted in their development, but there is a deep joy and delight in holding Luke. I find myself stealing moments to hold him, watch him, and just take pleasure in being his mother. There is a rightness in my soul when I am taking care of him. Perhaps, God has allowed this journey to soften and deepen my mother's soul. God's word is true when it declares that God has "turned my mourning into dancing;" and has, "loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness. . . O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!" Psalm 30:11-12

A Good Morning!

While most runners are easing into their winter maintenance after a holiday break, I am just getting started. I am one week into my reentry plan. Last year at this time, I was training for the Winter Series Races and actually ran one of them, when I got a telltale sickness in my gut. I'd had that same feeling a couple of times before. I ran a handful more runs after that eight mile race then decided to take it easy. When we found out that I was indeed pregnant, the doctor suggested limiting my runs to one mile just because of my history and the lack of a diagnosis. Then, my husband who loves me and is over protective (in my book,) told me that he preferred that I not run at all. At first, that was really difficult, but it got easier. Too easy in fact, and I didn't want to run or even move for that matter. Now that our Luke is three months old, I don't have an excuse. Therefore, I am back in the saddle again. The most I have gone is 2.7 miles. Not a long way, but something. I have been somewhat consistent this week even juggling running with all my mommy jobs and the hubby's running. Yesterday, I made it a whopping 2.3 miles, but I did it outside and managed to run the entire way up the hill even without the dog towing me. When the hubby got up to run this morning, I wasn't sleeping due to a stiff back, so I decided to join him for the first mile up the hill.

The cold brightness of the stars greeted us. There were so many visible that I could barely discern Orion's belt. The stars quickly faded and were replaced with the soft gray of the dawn. I especially enjoyed seeing the shadows of the trees against the lightening skyline. What a beautiful way to begin a day and a special reminder of why I love running. It is good to be back.