Thoughts from the long run

In his message last Sunday, our pastor urged us to look at the Christ on the cross that was pictured in the book of John. He wasn't urging us to contemplate the gore or the suffering of Chris,t although he had talked some about those things the previous week. Rather, we looked at the prophecies that John pointed out were fulfilled in the crucifixion of Christ. Maybe it is the English major in me, but I can't look at the ways that God has orchestrated all of history down to the smallest detail to work His great plan without weeping and laughing simultaneously.

But so what? It makes for good listening on a Sunday morning, but what does the fact that the God of the universe knew hundreds of years before it happened that He would be pierced by His chosen people? What does it matter that God made David a type of His Son? It matters to me, today. Because that same God is still writing the story of the world. We may know the ending of the story, but it is still playing out. My life is part of the whole, the bigger picture. The same God that caused the details of David's life to follow a plan that would point to Christ, is writing the content of my days. He can use my life to point to Him just like He has used countless others. He knows when the details of my life are more than I can carry on my own. He knows when to test me and when to give sweet rest. Like the life of Abraham, He is working in me to grow my faith. He loves me and like the master craftsman that He is, He is lovingly working for me. Nothing in my day today, tomorrow, or yesterday is outside His knowledge and control.

Considering Christ on the cross assures me that He can be trusted with all that I have and am. Nothing, not even the leaving of friends, the uncertainty of our times, or daily trials are more than He can handle. He is God: The Eternal Creator of the Universe, and He loves me and is in control of all that concerns me.

Keeping Track

Maybe,the reason that our children rebel when they are 16 is because they are just responding to us the way that we have taught them to by the way that we have responded to them all of their lives.

I find myself feeling as if my children should know when they are being inconsiderate or selfish or stubborn, and I react to their sinful actions with anger and frustration. Then, I expect them to show grace to me when I sin against them. Such a double standard and unrealistic expectations would make me angry! How can I expect them to respond in a more mature and Christ-like way than I am willing to!

God please help me to grow in Your grace so as to be able to shower it on my children. Love covers a multitude of sin.

What Jesus Didn't Say

"God just said, 'Let there be light,' and Boom! there it was!" exclaimed, our four-year-old daughter with her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. The concept of the power of the words of God had been the subject of her Sunday School lessons for the last few weeks. It was evident that the ideas presented were fascinating to her. (She talks when she is trying to understand and process ideas. She is like someone else that I know.)

Her comments were just another piece in the many that have been swirling in my head for the last while. It seems that God often uses bits and pieces from several sources to drive a concept home to my heart. Lately, it has been the idea of the power of words. One of the names of Christ is The Word. God created using His words. The prophets were often described as receiving "the word of the LORD."

There are myriad of references to what and how we speak in Scripture. "A soft answer turns away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger," is just one well-known example. I've been reading James, and it includes an extensive discussion of the tongue and how we use it.

During this time of year, we've been preparing for our Easter celebrations and talking about what Easter is. I've noticed again that Jesus showed amazing self-control when questioned by Pilate. He didn't say more than was necessary. He didn't let Pilate off the hook, but He also didn't argue with one who really wouldn't be able to understand. As the season progresses, what a great time to think about the words that Jesus said. I imagine that there are a few things to learn even from what He didn't say.

Survival

We made it through another of the husband's trips. This was a long one. Coupled with my not sleeping and other issues, I am happy to have just survived. I was encouraged to have gotten in over 25 miles and also to have taken the plunge and tried out a step class at the gym (while the kids were in their swimming lesson.) My very first exercise class ever. I must say that for this rhythmically challenged girl it went quite well. The worst part was that my calves were VERY sore the next day which was the day that I needed to run my 15 mile run. I did get it in, but it was slower than I'd hoped. At that point, I was just glad to record the miles.

Thinking lots about training programs and the need to add in some serious strength training. My best year of running ever was my senior year of high school. I was buff (due to a head track coach who required all of us to lift three days a week, not just the throwers and jumpers) and my race results proved the value of having muscle strength. Trying to figure out how to work it all into a workable plan especially with the need that my older body is having for more intense stretching. It all takes lots of time.

Speaking of time. . . It is time to move on with the day.

Black and White

When I left the house, there was just enough light to see the contrasts of the gray road and the black trees. Color was missing from the predawn world. The landscape reminded me of the black and white photos that I had seen on display at the library the day before. Slowly, as we ran up the hill, color returned to the houses, the sky, the land. I thought of all the times that I have failed to see that there is more than one way to see. I often forget that the world looks different to a four-year-old than it does to one who is 37. It often looks different to my husband than to me. Because of my failure to understand the differences in perspective, I often miss opportunities to learn from others. I fail to give grace where it is needed. I fail to love with a love that sees in more than black and white.

When I first came up out of the basin, the sky was filled with billowing, gray storm clouds to the east, but the sky to the west was still a pale, winter's blue with just a smudge of cloud above the Peak. By the time that I turned for home, the gray clouds had almost completely taken over the sky. Only a bit of blue still showed above the horizon. How quickly the view can change! I often forget that the struggles and joys of today will soon be lost to the advance of time. Soon, I will wish for the days of diapers and division with decimals. But these days will be replaced with other equally demanding and precious. Today, I must love with passion and grace the people that God has given to me to love so that when the view changes, they remember a mother's love that pointed them to a God of even greater love.

The trick is to not let the lessons that the Spirit whispers to the sound of footfalls on gravel be drowned out by the daily din.

On the road again. . .

So, the diagnosis of the first doctor was overruled by the second. Thanks to the second opinion, I am up and running again, at least in theory. Now, the challenge seems to be finding the time to fit in the exercises from the physical therapist and also the miles needed to build up to a 50K in just fifteen weeks. Yikes! This all comes at a time, when progress in homeschooling is attempting to grind to a halt despite my most valiant efforts, the spring cleaning/decorating bug is biting hard, and life just seems to be spinning faster than my head. Is that even possible?

And so, I just have to step back and ask that God will guide my days and my thoughts. One of those thoughts that has been brought to my mind over and over again is that in the midst of my days, I desire to make my God beautiful in the sight of my children and husband. How? I think that for me, that is a matter of joy. Joy that isn't limited by my control of the details of the days, but that is rooted in my relationship with the One who has written my days and knows their number. So, perhaps the most important road that I walk today will be the one that is walked in the quiet of my closet. That road takes courage and discipline as great as any other.

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!