Sum of Me

During a long run the other day, I had a freeing thought. "I am not the sum of my to-do list." It is amazing how my mood rises and falls with the length of my to-do list. On days, when I can rattle off a long list of tasks accomplished, I feel content and capable. On those days when one challenge after another keeps me from getting into a groove, I feel all knotted up inside. But that is wrong. God does not judge my worth or even my identity by the things that I do or don't get done. I am still a mother, a wife, a runner, a friend, a Christian, a reader, a Montana girl, a Steeler's fan. I still love rain storms, snow, skiing, flowers, growing things, animals, and my family. I have an English degree. I've lost five children. I've been redeemed. I have an eternal home in heaven. No matter the length of my list, I am still all of those things. I don't have to define myself or my success by what I didn't get done today.

Falcon Trail

During my run on the Falcon trail last week, I realized why trails are so magical. Trails follow the lay of the land. A trail might have a beginning and an ending with a goal in mind, but how one gets to the end of the trail is all determined by the land between here and there. Trails go up when the terrain does or down for that matter. Basically, trails are unpredictable, turning left when you know that you are headed right. Roads, on the other hand, are level, straight, easy, and uninteresting. I know that I enjoy life when it is predictable, and manageable. I like living in a culture where change is managed from salaries being adjusted for inflation to the government insuring money deposited in banks. But there is a question that begs to be asked, "What blessings are we missing, by creating such artificial protections around our lives? What lessons does God have for us when we stop limiting our risk?" Maybe the risks aren't financial. Is there someone that I need to love, to forgive, to encourage? Is there a way to live that puts others before myself, and that gains kingdom reward instead of instant gratification? Part of the answer might be in I Cor. 7:22-23 where the contrast is made between being a slave of Christ not the slave of men. If I am Christ's then I can serve others with no thought of my rights or of how they might take advantage of my service. I am not dependent on their right treatment. I belong to Christ. In many ways, I am still a road runner, but I want letting go of my rights to myself, my control of life to be as easy as it is to run bombing down a trail. I want to work at translating that same spirit of abandon to the rest of my life. Anyone for a run?