In grief

Sometimes life is like being on top of a ridge. The trees fall away and the view opens up. One can see for miles around and the bright sunshine illumines everything in sight. It is easy to see all that God has done and is doing. More often days seem like walks in the forest where the views are limited to glimpses of the glories beyond the trees. Dust and tree roots occasionally take the eye away from the grand vistas just visible beyond the trees. Other days, darkness presses in so heavy that the light seems gone; the path faint if present. It is then that faith points the way, not out of the darkness, but toward the light unseen, yet trusted.

I chose to trust Your hand in the darkness. I chose to hear Your voice in the night. Even if the answer is not the one that I seek. I trust Your love. I trust You.

I like stories.

I would rather read a novel than an encyclopedia. I suppose that most people would. Many times I have caught myself looking to the Bible as an encyclopedia. I turn to it to see what God says about this or that. I have even counseled new believers or seekers that they should begin with one of the gospels rather than reading the Bible like other books where you start at the beginning and finish at the end. It struck me today (while running) that the Bible isn't an encyclopedia. It is, rather, a story, the greatest story ever told. It is a love story, a true story, a compelling story. And as such it should be read with an eye toward theme and story line. From Genesis to Revelation, the themes are laid out: God is. He is powerful. He loves me. He pursues me. He wins me. He wins. Anyone for a good read?

Did it!!

While training for my last marathon, I noticed that running wasn't really that much fun anymore. Today, I started on a four mile run. I haven't been training and knew that four would be a difficult run. About two miles in, I was running well and getting very tired. My husband drove past with the kids on their way home from the park. Since my training schedule called for a two mile run, I asked him take me home. I wanted to be done. I'd done what I was supposed to do. Then, I decided not to get in the car. I decided to do something hard, something that I didn't want to do. I'm glad that I did. It was actually fun.

Back in the Saddle, Again. . .

My husband tells me that I am a runner. I tend to argue with him on that point. My running life has been rather on-again, off-again for the last four years, although it wasn't much more committed before that. It seems to me that real runners run, not just read about it or encourage others to do it. This winter, I have set a goal for myself. I am planning to run our local running club's Winter Series, not just the Winter Series, but the Long Series. This morning was my first run after two weeks off to nurse my husband and move. When I left the house, it was clear and cold. I pushed up the hill to get into position to watch the sun come up and ran toward it's blinding rays a few minutes before it tucked in behind the low-hanging clouds that filled the sky. When I first sighted Pike's Peak, it's top was just under the clouds, but as I turned for home, most of the mountain was curtained from view. I soon felt the first wetness on my face, but didn't feel the full force of the wind-driven snow till I started down the hill. I then began to be thankful that I had turned for home when I had. By the time that I walked up the driveway, the snow was being driven sideways past the trees. I was glad to return to the warm house. I've run in snow before, but I have never had the joy of running while watching a storm come in before. It is one experience that I would love to have many more times. Seeing the beauty and power of God's creation on display was a wonderful way to start the day.

I'm not two. . .

When my two-year-old says, "I don' wan to," with a little pout and a stamp of the foot, it is an opportunity to mold her character and teach her about obedience. But, somehow, seeing her do those things, reminds me that I often do the same thing in my own heart. It is amazing how many fights I have with my husband over something that he kindly asks to do for me. Rather than accepting his kindness, I find myself saying, "I don' wan to," in my heart, if not with my mouth. Even worse, I find myself saying the same thing to God. Though I know that God's way is best and that He only sends blessings that are meant to make me stronger, I often don't want what He says is best. I think that I could choose better, and I catch myself stamping my foot and pouting that, "I don't want to," when He sends another challenge. I am the spoiled child refusing to accept the kind correction of the Father that loves me and knows better than I do. So, when I deal with my daughter's heart, may I always remember my own heart and lovingly correct her as my Father does me.

Anne

For several reasons, I started rereading the works of Anne Bradstreet this last week. Though I had read much of her work in college, this time reading it meant more. So many of the fears and struggles that she expressed are ones that I find myself facing. I recognized the fears of my own heart in her poem written before delivering a child. Her questions and conclusions about her faith struck a familiar chord. Her perspective on the suffering in her life, challenged me to keep believing in the goodness of God. In her meditations, she expresses parallels between her daily life and her spiritual life, as I have tried to do here. Reading her work made me feel less lonely. Almost as if she were a kindred spirit that I know only by what I read. As I read her work and feel the blessing of knowing that another has hurt and questioned and believed, I pray that the thoughts that I attempt to capture here will in some small way be a blessing if in no other way than that I will have thought them out more fully and forced them to stand up to the test of logical expression. (At least I hope that it is logical.) I am so thankful that I had the chance to revisit the lovely work of this old friend.

Not a Running Blog

I am beginning again to train for a race. This time, I want to run 13.1 miles. I haven't run a half marathon. It seems like it would be a fun distance, a bit of a stretch, but not all the preparation and agony of the full marathon. Now, I am working out a training plan that will prepare me for the half and take into account my recent sabbatical from the sport. In the last marathon that I trained for and ran, I just put in the miles and gutted through the race with little enjoyment or real engagement. This time, I am attempting to put more effort and focus into each training run. Maybe that is because, I haven't really left myself much time to get ready for this race, or maybe it is because I am investing more meaning in this run than in others. Whatever the reason, I ran with a specific goal today. As a result, I am excited to be training and eager for my next run. I haven't felt that way about running for some time. I kinda like this running thing (again.)