On Personal Revelations

          As humans we tend to have a hard time truly seeing ourselves for who we are in our deepest heart of hearts.  Too often we are busy looking at ourselves through the rose colored glasses of our best intentions or through the obscure lenses of guilt and fear.  We miss so often the opportunity to clearly see ourselves without the tint of vanity and pride sneaking in there.  But sometimes....every once in a great while if we concentrate hard enough and ask in humility, the one who sees us in all of our beauty and flaws steps in and shines the light of His point of view on our minds eye.  And all at once we are revealed to ourselves in every bit of our gory gloriousness.  It is terrifying and marvelous and indescribable, to truly see the desire of your heart stripped bare.  I hope and pray you get to experience it, even just for a moment.

          I hesitated telling people I was traveling to Israel this fall.  Mostly because there is this strange reaction that I dread dealing with, the response of "Oh you're going to Israel?! Are you walking in the steps of Jesus! You have to tell me exactly what it felt like and what you experienced there!".  I was not going to walk in the steps of Jesus, that is not a trip that I desire to take.  I was going to experience a really cool part of the history of modern Israel and my best friend's family legacy.  This was not a 'religious experience' pilgrimage and I had no intention of making it one.  Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with someone feeling a great desire to walk the steps that Jesus walked.  If that is a big deal for them, then that is wonderful.  But that is not how my spiritual life operates, it is not a need I feel and there was no way my trip would be what they were hoping for me.  Would it be cool to sit on the Sea of Galilee contemplating the sermon preached there so long ago? Heck yes.  But it's not something I personally need to experience and it's not why I would travel to Israel.

          What is so amazing to me is that I serve an Omnipotent God who does not expect me to need the same experiences as others need.  He knows me to my very core and prepares for me exactly what I am needing without my input at all.  I serve a God who prepared for me a trip that would change my life in ways I could never begin to imagine in off the beaten path ways that were His and mine alone.

I will relate to you only one of those moments.

          One place that both Jess and I really wanted to see was the Western Wall in Old Jerusalem.  On our first evening in the city we wove our way through the crowded stonework maze of the old city and finally found ourselves facing this historic and spiritually significant stonework wall.  This place is still highly sacred for the Jewish religion and many worshipers find there way to the wall to pray at all hours of the day and night.  Jess and I washed our hands, covered our heads and made our way into the crowd.  We found a fairly open space about 35feet back from the actual wall and stood in silence looking up at it for a moment.  As I slowly scanned the crowd I saw several women with uncovered heads, taking tourist photos in front of the wall and waving their ipads around for a better shot (even though signs clearly asked visitors to cover their heads and not take photos inside of the area separated for worship.).  I began to grow frustrated by the obvious lack of respect for this holy site.  Just because it was not sacred to them didn't mean they had no responsibility to show respect to those who were worshiping.  I found myself wanting a moment to speak to God and unable to do so because my mind was filling with frustration.  I realized if I wanted to truly speak to The Lord I would have to close my eyes and ignore the mass of people surrounding me.

          The moment I closed my eyes the sounds of the passing mass of humanity became distant like the buzzing of so many bees flying overhead.  I slowly began to focus and converse with God.  I ruminated on the cultural and historical significance of this wall before me.  Considered the spiritual significance it held for the Jews and also for me.  I asked God to please look into my heart and show me my greatest desire and the work that He would put before me. 

          I considered Hezekiah returning from captivity to a burned and destroyed city.  Jerusalem, the city who's very name means the city of the King of Peace.  What must that have been like?  What amount of humility and effort it must have taken?  To be the voice standing and calling others to help in building up the walls of the city of the King of Peace.  How did he even know where to begin to repair the damage?  To repair the breaches in the walls of this great city...  A phrase floated through my mind, 'to be a repairer of the breach'. Yes!  That is what Hezekiah was! He moved forward in humility and with great courage to repair the breaches of the walls of the city of the King of Peace.  What a huge responsibility.

          What would that work look like today?  The thought caught me off guard.  My mind paused and spun like a free wheel for a moment.  Where is the city of the King of Peace now?  Is it a physical thing?  Are their physical walls in disarray that need repairing?  No.  So does the city no longer exist?  Well, certainly it does!  So...where does it exist today?  What does that city look like and are it's walls in need of repair?  My brain continued spinning.  I had no answer for this flood of questions.  My simple mind could not take it all in at once.  I only had one answer.  "God, if I can be that...if I can somehow be a repairer of the breach, that is what I want above anything else in this life.  I want to be able in some way to build back up the walls of your kingdom.  I don't know what that looks like, but that is what I want to do."

          I opened my eyes, the mass of people still buzzed around us.  I wondered if Jess felt ready to go..if she had been given her own moment of personal revelation.  I thanked God for the moment and we made our way back to our hotel.  It was several weeks later that I came across the following scripture during church:

'Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thine health shall spring forth speedily: and thy righteousness shall go before thee; the glory of the LORD shall be thy rearward.

Then shalt thou call, and the LORD shall answer; thou shalt cry, and he shall say, Here I am. If thou take away from the midst of thee the yoke, the putting forth of the finger, and speaking vanity;

And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noonday:
And the LORD shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.
And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shalt be called, The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in.'  -Isaiah 58:8-12

          I have a work to do, I have been given direction in how to do it.  To remove the yoke of bondage from my life, to remove my own pride, to draw out my soul to the hungry and afflicted...this is how that breach is repaired, this is how the dwelling place of the great King of Peace is built up.  With every word, every action and every thought of my heart I am choosing to be a repairer or a destroyer of the breach.  I am choosing to heal and bring peace or to break down the walls of the King of Peace.  On many lips there is a great battle cry going throughout the world today.  A cry for war to prove this or fight that.  The only battle I am interested in fighting is the battle inside of my own heart, the battle of my own pride and selfishness, because those are my true enemies and when they are conquered I shall be made a vessel worthy of true service.  Amen.

On My First Trip to Israel

“One never reaches home,' she said. 'But where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time.”
― Hermann Hesse

          This past week I had a rare and wonderful opportunity to travel with my best friend across the world for the first time.  Jess and I have traveled many times through the years and our traveling pace always fits perfectly together, but we have never embarked on an international voyage before.  And to Israel of all places.  I have many dream locations marked out on my internal travel list, but Israel has never been high on that list. 

          I suppose it's the Dave Ramsey Effect more than anything that made me shy away from planning a trip there.  Have you never heard of the Dave Ramsey Effect?!  Well, that's because it's something very real that possibly only effects myself and a rare handful of other people in the world.  Let me try to explain it in a nutshell.  I hate Dave Ramsey or at least I used to think I hated him, after much time and self reflection I came to realize I not only don't hate anything Dave Ramsey has to say..I actually agree with him most of the time.  What I truly hate is how people who listen to Dave Ramsey tend to start behaving after listening to him. (As if he is the only financial guru who has any answers and if you don't follow everything he has to say to the letter then you are either a financial louse or a fool.  As if he is the financial messiah come to save us all from debt and any variation from what he says is bordering on a sin.) So...because I hate how some people behave when they listen to Dave Ramsey I automatically hate Dave Ramsey.  I think the same happened with Israel for me.  Because so many people treat it as if travel there is a high holy experience that cannot be missed, I automatically decided I had no desire to be a part of anything to do with it.  Is that foolish on my part?  Sure, probably.  Is it an effect that happens with many things in my life? You betcha!  Sure fire way for me to automatically not like someone is if everyone tells me they are the most amazing person in the world and I should automatically love them.

          Anyway, I am pretty sure when it comes to traveling to Israel the Dave Ramsey Effect took control and I just randomly decided it had nothing important to offer me.  I was satisfied with that and was busy planning my next trip to China, Peru, Nepal or Norway when Jess contacted me and let me know she was planning to go to Israel.  I told her I was excited for her, but my money was going other places so I could not go with.  She was going for a family genealogy type event anyway and I didn't want to stick my nose where it had no business being.

           Periodically I would get updates about the trip plans, and I truly felt excited for the opportunity she had to go and meet long lost family members and learn more about her family history but I was still not willing to use my saved up trip money for Israel.  Then one weekend about five weeks before her travel date I was playing online and found a flight.  It was the same dates as my best friend's trip and it was a third less in price than any flight to Israel that I had ever seen.  It was within my vacation savings budget.  I messaged her and double checked the dates...sure enough I had remembered correctly.  My heart leapt and all at once I felt the desire to go.  The problem was I had already put in my time off requests and to ask my boss to switch my time at the last minute was certainly a risk.  I asked my friend and a couple of family members to pray about it and I asked that if this trip would be important for me to go on for some reason that I could not see, I would be able to get the time off with no problem and the price of the ticket would not change before I could secure the time off.

          That following Monday I went in to speak with my boss.  Before I could even finish my request she stopped me and said, "This is a once in a lifetime chance.  You have to go.  What days do you need."  I was blown away, but was made dumbfounded when I checked online to find that the flight was the exact same price to the penny as it had been two days before.  I bought the ticket and messaged Jess, I was going with her to Israel.

          The morning that I left on this whirlwind of an adventure I took my nieces out to breakfast and as we drove home from the restaurant one of them said to me, " I want you to tell me what you feel like the moment you step off of the plane and are in Israel.  I have heard you immediately feel like you are home."  I told her I would, but internally I snickered a bit.  Israel is cool I am sure...but it's just another country, it is not magical and there are no unicorns there.  

          The trip from Phoenix, Arizona to Tel Aviv, Israel is in one word...brutal.  After arriving, meeting up with Jess (who flew from her home in another state), doing the paperwork for our rental car, getting cash out of an ATM, finding our rental car and figuring out how to turn it on (All cars in Israel have a four digit code you must enter to turn them on.  The lady at the rental desk did not explain this but that is a hilarious story for another time.) and navigating out of the airport; when I finally remembered my niece's request my only answer was exhausted.  I felt completely and utterly exhausted and absolutely nothing else.  It took me a full 24hours to realize how I felt being there.  And the moment it sunk in hit me harder than I was expecting.

          It was our first full evening in Tel Aviv and I had located the closest cafe to our building.  We had a bit of time free before meeting our group for dinner and I decided it was time for a quick cup of coffee.  The cafe was only three blocks from us so even though it was already dark out I decided to head down alone.  As I was walking back toward our place with my amazing Turkish coffee in hand I was overwhelmed by the realization that I was perfectly 100% at peace.  This may not seem like much to you, but if you are or know of someone who is in law enforcement you will recognize how huge this fact is.  I was walking the streets of a large metropolis after dark and alone...in perfect peace.  

          You see, since 2005 when I began my police training there is always a part of my brain that is on overdrive watching everything for any signs of trouble.  The only time I am 100% at peace is when I am locked in my home sound asleep and my dog is peacefully breathing, and even then sometimes a strange sound will wake me and my body will flood immediately with adrenaline until I can figure out what the sound was.  This feeling of internal silence was so forgotten it was almost unrecognizable.  I was still watching everyone passing by, still listening to the sounds all around me...but I was not on the alert.  I was perfectly at peace.  The last time I remember that feeling was walking to the local market in Danli with my mother when I was about 12 years old.  I cannot explain it, I do not know why or how.  I only know that the entire time I was in Israel I felt perfect peace.  When we were driving and lost, when we were walking through a crowded market and I was tired and grouchy and hot, when I was running alone through paths of a national park...I felt perfectly peaceful without fail. 

          I know you would love for me to tell you the details of what I saw, where we went and what we did on our whirlwind four day trip.  I am sorry but this is not that post.  Perhaps you would like for me to tell you of all the holy sites we went to and some magical spiritual awakening I had while there.  That is not my story and we visited none of the holy sites while we were there.  We did visit the Western Wall which was really cool and I may write about at some point, but today I don't even want to talk about that.  

          Today I want to tell you to take chances and travel to the place you thought you didn't want to go to.  Embrace the experience even if people tell you 'it's not safe' or 'are you sure you want to do that?'.  Don't just travel from landmark to landmark thinking you will come away knowing anything about where you have been.  Immerse yourself into that place and truly soak it in.  Find out where the locals eat and get into conversation with them.  Ask them what they love about where they live and what you should not miss.  Be brave enough to drive and/or take local transportation or even just walk around.  Maybe the magic held in a place is not in going to the sites it is famous for, but just in being willing to go there and see what it has to offer.  Maybe the most amazing experience you will find in a new place will be in realizing that for all of it's vast differences...it somehow fits as if it is a previously unknown missing piece of you.  That in the journey of going there you have found the the peace of home.

On Running

          I know, I know....you have next to zero desire to hear about another person's run.  I mean, if you wanted to know about running you would do it yourself right?  Well, sorry but I'm not sorry and since I had to live through months of personal torture to engage in six hours and fifteen minutes of painful pleasure, you my friends will have to suffer through my verbal depiction of the process.  Unless of course you just navigate away from the page now...which you could totally do and I would never know.

          This last weekend I participated in and completed my first, and very possibly only ever, marathon.  It started in the mountains of Ojai, California and ran down to the beach in Ventura, California.  The weather was perfect, the scenery was amazing and the experience...well, you can read for yourself.

          I will save descriptions of the months of training for my future book 'I Run the West and You Can Too'. For today I will simply delve into the marathon experience itself with this one preface.  I faced that day knowing that I was not half as prepared as I needed to be and my goal was to finish on my own and with no injuries.  As I rode the shuttle bus up into the mountains in the pitch black of 4am I reminded myself of my goal.  For twenty minutes I repeated to myself, "You just have to finish this thing, even if you have to walk for some of it that is okay.  Just finish with no injuries."  In between each reminder to myself I would pray, "Please God help me finish this run, I really don't think I am ready to do it.".  While staring out the window blindly at the darkened shapes passing by, I saw the past several months of training flash before my mind's view.  Mostly I saw opportunities passed up because I wanted to sleep in or hang out with family/friends.  I yelled at myself for choosing the path of the sluggard while being faced with this deadline.  Here it was facing me and I was so completely ill prepared.  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled.  Once again reminding myself that I was here now and needed to do the best that I could with the situation.  No use crying over training runs left undone.

          I had left with the earliest shuttle bus which put me into Ojai about an hour and a half before the race actually started.  This gave me too much time to work myself into a panic, so instead of allowing down time I chose to embrace my nerd self and walked the streets of what turned out to be a super cute California mountain town.  I found plenty to interest my ever learning brain and in what seemed like twenty minutes it was time to get into the bathroom line for the last time before the starting gun. (They didn't actually use a gun, some guy yelled go really loud.  Apparently the residents of Ojai don't relish being woken at six in the morning on a Sunday by a starting pistol.)

         At six am I said my final prayer while watching the waves of runners start out. (I knew I would be super slow, so I was at the back.)  A deep breath and I was off...only 26.2 miles to go.  I have to say the first six miles were easy.  I was running a slower pace than normal saving my energy for later in the day, but I felt strong and I felt good.  The first six miles were also a circular loop out of town and back through the starting line, which was a bit of a downer when I realized I had run six miles and not even gotten anywhere closer to the actual finish line.  But I was slightly cheered by the thought that I only had 20 more miles to the end. (It cheered me for all of half a second until my brain realized that 20 miles is a ton of miles!)

          Miles 6-10 were what I would call the awe miles.  I was moving at a steady pace, but not so fast that I couldn't appreciate the scenery.  We were weaving through tiny communities and orchard/farmlands with sweeping views of the mountains around us.  It was beautiful and I was energized enough to truly enjoy the process and soak every bit of it in.  I took time to thank God for blessing me to be able to move as well as I was and to be able to enjoy this experience and I reveled in the fact that never again in my life would I be in this very moment feeling this very way.  When people talk about 'living in the moment' I truly believe what I was feeling was the literal interpretation of that phrase.  It was beautiful, it was perfect.  And to top it all off I knew I had left my fitbit challenge friends in the dust with the number of steps I was getting in! (Not the point, but a nice bonus.)

          In miles 10-14 I was still cruising at a steady pace.  A fellow runner kept time with me for a couple miles and we were able to chat about the experience and our goals in the race.  I was comforted to know there were other runners on the course who were satisfied with the accomplishment of finishing the race even if they would not ever be fast enough to win an overall placement.  I was reassured that it is not less meaningful to finish the race beating your own self and not getting a 'great time' in the eyes of others.  When I crossed the halfway point I felt confident that maybe I could truly do this.  In fact, maybe I could not only finish the race, but I could do so in less time than I had expected!  My hopes soared as I imagined myself crossing the finish line in under six hours. (Yeah, that's still a long time for a marathon but it would be less time than I was planning for.)

          Soon after mile 14 I began to feel my hip flexors tighten up.  I briefly considered stopping to stretch them out, but as I had not stopped or slowed my pace yet I was hesitant to do so.  I decided to push through and promised myself that if I truly felt the need to stop or walk I would do so.  Long story short...I should have taken the time to stop and stretch right then.  I lasted to about halfway through mile 16 when I realized I had begun to become so tight my stride was half it's normal size (and I have a small stride to begin with).  I stopped and stretched at a concrete ditch on the side of the road, but much of the damage had already been done and my hip flexors would not fully release.  This began my slow decline in speed through the remainder of the race.

          Miles 17-20 were what I will call the prayer miles.  My muscles were not seizing or spasming, but they were so tight that I had dropped down to what can only be described as a seriously slow jog.  Twice during this stretch I had to slow for what I called prayer breaks (Where essentially I would slow to a walk to catch my breath and beg God to help me be able to finish without any injuries.) and to attempt to stretch out my now very tight muscles.  It was during this section that I also had my most delightful encounter in the entire race.  I had just finished walking about a half a block's length when I saw at the crest of a hill three young boys in track uniforms walking toward me.  When they got up to my spot they asked if they could run with me for a little while and I told them they could.  They then proceeded to run about a half a mile with me encouraging me and telling me how proud they were of my dedication and what an inspiration it was that I was doing something I had never done before.  At the end of the half mile we came to a tent where their parents had set up water and snacks for runners and they offered me anything I needed to be able to finish the race.  Those boys may never know, but they helped to carry me through the next couple miles.  I found myself refreshed and somehow less sore than I had been since mile 14.  I felt tears sting my eyes as I thought, "This is it, I am going to make it.".   Their presence was such a gift at just the right moment.

          During miles 20-22 I tried to play Jedi mind tricks on myself.  All of which failed because apparently I am the worst padawan who ever attempted to use Jedi powers. (I already admitted to being a nerd, lets not rehash that point now.) I started by telling myself in mile 20 that 'You only have 6.2 miles left, that is just a 10K and you have done tons of 10K's before.  You can do a 10K easily!' After hearing my brain laugh and mock my efforts of persuasion for the rest of mile 20 I tried again at the mile 21 marker. 'Only 5 miles Laura, you can totally accomplish 5 miles that is easy, you've got this.'  Somehow repeating these thoughts for the duration of the mile did not work to convince me of their veracity. At this point 5 miles may have well have been 50.  Like the phrase on my favorite running shirt says, 'everything hurt and I was dying'.

          If I thought miles 20-22 were miserable, I had no idea what misery was.  On mile 22 the course started a gradual ascent in elevation.  Nothing you would normally call a hill, but everything after 22 miles of running feels like a hill.  This is when pure misery hit me.  Between mile 22 and the end of the race I took two more walking breaks and crossed over from the 'please help me do this' frame of mind to the 'please help me not be mean to everyone who is trying to cheer me on but who I want to pummel' state of mind.  Somewhere between mile 22 and 23 a poor citizen trying to encourage me made the mistake of saying, "You're almost there".  I tried to keep from throwing eye daggers at him as I half smiled and said, "after over 20 miles nothing is almost there." Which I feel was showing great self control since I wanted to scream at him, "You  idiot!!! Four miles is NEVER almost there!!!".  At mile 24 the course began a significant incline which lasted for almost a mile.  I wish I could tell you I was able to keep the angry and sarcastic part of me at bay, but she was out and in search of prey.  I yelled (to no one since I was running alone at this point) 'Whoever sold this course as downhill is either an idiot or a liar! Why am I still running uphill?!'.

          By the time I came to the mile 25 marker I had crossed over from anger into acceptance.  I knew I should be trying to move myself forward faster, after all I only had a little over a mile left to run, but no matter how hard I tried I could not force my body to move any faster than what felt like a slow plod through molasses.  I just had nothing left in me beyond the simple force of will to keep moving forward no matter how slow.  In the last quarter of a mile I had to laugh as a man who was walking caught up to and crossed the finish line just ahead of me.  At that point his walk was faster than my run.  As I finally crossed the finish line six hours and fifteen minutes after starting I saw my niece waiting at the end and began to tear up.  I was handed a bottle of water and a medal and as I put it on my neck my niece asked how I felt.  With no hesitation I honestly replied, "I never want to run that far again in my life."

          51 hours have come and gone since I crossed that finish line and I am well into my recovery period.  At this point I am confident that my feelings upon crossing that finish line are still firm and clear.  I am so glad that I did this marathon, but I do not feel the need to conquer another.  I will keep running half marathons, because I just love running.  But a full marathon does not appear anywhere on the horizon for me.  That being said, I am so glad that I did not  drop out at the last moment, as I was considering doing the week prior when I knew I was not sufficiently prepared.  There are so many lessons one learns when they push themselves beyond what they believe themselves to be ready for or capable of.  I am thankful to be on the other side of the race knowing that being unprepared and having to go at a slow and steady pace did not prevent me from being able to achieve such a great goal. 

          Because I firmly believe we should learn from the experiences of others, here are a few things I have learned through this process:

1. Until you have faced an overwhelming obstacle that scared you and forced yourself to overcome it anyway, you will not know how much strength is in you.
•  There are so many things in life I have shied away from because I was afraid I could not succeed.  The true loss I experienced by giving up was the chance to learn how capable I really am.
2. When you find yourself alone and scared...know that you are never alone.
• Even as I was trudging along on unfamiliar mountain roads with no one at my side.  I had the strength of the prayers and well wishes of loved ones going out before me and preparing my way.  I had the peace of knowing an omnipotent God who designed me with the strength and ability to overcome this very moment was ever by my side.  I had the anticipation of family waiting for me at the finish line, confident that I would make it.
3.  When someone tells you a race is 'all downhill' know that they are either misinformed or a liar.
• Nothing is ever 'all downhill', it's just not.  Don't believe it for a moment.  Know that you will be faced with fighting up hill battles in anything that is worth accomplishing.
4.  You will feel the entire gambit of emotions the human psyche is capable of experiencing.
• Do your best to control the anger when you feel it welling up in you. (And yes it will come to some degree at some point in your journey, trust me.) Do your best to hold onto the joy and peace when it overwhelms your senses, because it WILL be indescribably overwhelming.
5. Be willing to stop and stretch the minute you feel yourself getting tight.
• I allowed pride to keep me pushing through and I payed for it in the end.  Be humble enough to acknowledge when your body needs to slow down or stretch. 

And Finally...

 

Know that if you have beat your own records, you have accomplished what you set out to do. 

• There will always be someone faster and better than you, and even if you are the fastest right now someone is training who will at some point beat your records.  Beating others can never be the path to conquering yourself.

On Why I Would Rather Not be Happy Ever After

But godliness with contentment is great gain.  For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.  And having food and raiment let us be therewith content.

1 Timothy 6:6-8

Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.

Philippians 4:11

          Yesterday I had a short facebook conversation with my dear sister-in-law that was the genesis of a question I have been mulling over for the last 24 hours or so.  What does 'happily ever after' really mean?  In our fairy tale centered culture we tend to associate the term 'happily ever after' with images of a prince sweeping his princess off of her feet and saving her from some tragic fate.  The two face some basic challenges together before they ultimately overcome them with the power of their combined wits and the magic of love, then in the ending scene all is calm and they ride off into the sunset (or get married or kiss or stare into each others eyes more intently than two second graders in a staring contest.) as the credits assure us they lived 'happily ever after'.  But is that one story line truly the only possible variation to something as incomprehensible as 'happily ever after'?  Because if that is true, it must mean that any other ending to the story cannot be 'happily ever after'.  Which in turn means that the vast majority of all human experience falls under the category of 'unhappily ever after'.  Is happiness truly restricted to this one aspect of the entire expanse of human existence?  I cannot believe that.

          I don't want to give you the impression that I hate fairy tales or romantic stories, to the contrary I quite enjoy them and most of my movie collection falls under the category of period romance.  What I am questioning here is whether we as a culture have backed ourselves into a corner by attaching the concept of happiness to a mate.  Is romance wonderful? Yes.  Does it feel like your own personal fairytale unfolding before your eyes when you meet someone who matches your needs so perfectly that you easily forget you were ever two different entities? Definitely.  Does it define your level of happiness for the rest of your days? Certainly not.  In fact, I would further argue that if it does define your 'happy ever after' you are treading on some very dangerous ground. 

          We are from our birth alone.  Connected to others through relationships, yes, but still ultimately alone.  Those who aren't in a romantic relationship now will probably be at some point in their lives, and those who are will have to face a day when they are once again without their partner. (whether through the tragedy of death or personal choice) We cross from this life into the next alone and we stand before our maker alone.  In fact the only being that is with us from the beginning of our life until the very end is our Creator.  While we may share the path with others for a time, the journey of our days on this earth is essentially a solitary one.  Therefore to rely on any person's presence for happiness is to consign ourselves to a long and sorrowful journey.

          If happiness then is not intrinsically tied to the presence of others in our lives, what is it and how can it be achieved?  Is it any more tangible than magical unicorn dust floating in space, and if so what can one do in order to grab hold of it?

          As I contemplated these questions the verse from Timothy repeated in my mind. "godliness with contentment is great gain."  I began to ask myself, what is contentment and how does it differ from happiness?  Here is the definition I found in Merriam Webster:

Contentment: the state of being happy and satisfied; the state of being content

Content:  pleased and satisfied; not needing more

          

          This finding of course intrigued me more.  If happiness is part of the definition of contentment then what does it mean to be happy?  Here's what Merriam Webster told me:

Happy:  feeling of pleasure or enjoyment because of your life, situation, etc.; showing or causing feelings of pleasure and enjoyment; pleased or glad about a particular situation, event, etc.

          In contemplating these two definitions I found my 'aha' moment.  (I know it's tricky because my thoughts are as sporadic as a summer lightning storm sometimes, but try to stay with me here.)  I realized that 'happily ever after' could indeed be attached to a specific person or state of being.  Happiness is rooted in pleasure derived from a passing moment in time, it's existence is dependent on specific parameters that have a continuous ebb and flow.  So from the moment happiness begins it is also in the process of ending and may do so without any warning if the necessary parameters no longer exist.  Contentment on the other hand is a state of being.  Happiness is a part of it, but it's existence is not dependent on the presence of happiness.  Because the essence of contentment is being satisfied and not needing more than what you have right now.

          You may wonder why that small difference matters.  You may even say they are both ultimately the same thing, but I would have to disagree with you there.  To me this small difference means everything.  You see, I have spent much of my life believing that happiness and contentment were essentially the same.  I have tried to 'make' myself 'just be happy' with something that was miserable to me.  I have beat myself up for not being able to 'just be happy' for someone or something in my life when the truth is I was focused on the wrong thing.  It wasn't my responsibility to make myself be happy in an unhappy situation, it was my responsibility to choose to embrace contentment in spite of being overwhelmed by unhappiness.

           If my car's engine falls apart on the side of the road there is nothing that I can do to make myself be happy with that situation.  It's a miserable situation that would and should make anyone unhappy.  I can however teach myself to be content in the moment of my unhappiness.  I can remember the good things I have in my life, be thankful for friends and family to call who will help me out, remember that I have a job with a decent income that allows me to have insurance coverage and enough money in the bank to get my car fixed.  I can remind myself to be pleased about what is good in my life, to be satisfied with the gifts and blessings I do have and to not need perfection in that moment.  There is no way that having an engine fall apart on the side of the road would bring anyone pleasure or enjoyment, those feelings will never come from tragedy of any kind but contentment...contentment can be found even in the midst of unhappiness.  

          That's what the writers of old were trying to explain to me.  Our culture tries to sell us happiness as if it is the defining characteristic of a successful life.  We chase happiness as if it is a firefly at dusk and if we could only trap it in our glass jars then we would 'have it all' but it is a dirty trick.  What we are not told, what we do not understand is that in the instant we have it within our grasp and seal it up for the future the moment of it's existence has passed and we are left with an empty jar, the memory of it's presence and the insatiable desire to once again pursue and claim it as our own.  What we are not told is that contentment is the only container in which happiness can become a permanent resident.  It is the home in which happiness can find it's true place. 

          To pursue happiness is to pursue an elusive sense of perfection, it is to live unable to be satiated and at rest.  To pursue contentment is to pursue the ability to be satisfied with every part of the journey of life.  To know that in the darkest moments you would not choose any other path because you are confident in the knowledge that your life is blessed by your creator and while it may come and go throughout your lifetime, happiness will always return to you.  It is a part of your life, but it does not have to define the success of your life.

          Happiness is a marvelous gift and one that I am blessed with more often than I deserve, but it is not happiness that I want to have ever after.  I want to have contentment ever after.  I want to be able to say in every moment of my life no matter how terrifying, dark, lonely or unspeakably beautiful; that I am satisfied with the life I have been given, that I do not need more than I have in this very moment.  I want to always be content.

On Loving a Refugee Like Me

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof.  Selah.  There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.  God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: he uttered his voice, the earth melted.  The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.  Selah.

Psalm 46: 1-7

A refuge is defined as: a condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger or trouble; something providing shelter.

A refugee is defined as: a person who has been forced to leave their country in order to escape war, persecution or natural disaster.

          How many times in my short life have I run to my God seeking safety and a shelter from the storms of this life?  How many times have I been cast down, broken, lost and confused seeking protection from the constant war for my soul?  How many times has He taken me in, knowing that I would ultimately forget, deny or despise the gift of refuge offered to me in His love?  How often when refreshed have I ignored His care and turned to once again head back into the fray without his protection?  How many times have I wounded Him when He has offered me healing?  And yet every time I run to my God having recognized the danger I am in and seeking once more to be given refuge, His arms are open to receive me.  Because His love is not offered even though we might hurt or fail Him...it is a love that is offered when He knows it is in our nature to do so.  It is a love that is perfect and not extended on the condition of my perfection.  It is a love that we can never be worthy of and a love that we can always be sure of.  I am a refugee seeking the protection and care of my God, and He is perfect love always offering an anchor and refuge for my soul.

The Lee Family

          I was between 1-6months old ( I have no solid memories to tell me my exact age) when I met the first refugees who played a part in shaping my history.  It was 1981 and a call went out to families in the Twin Cities area to sponsor refugee families from Southeast Asia.  The Viet Cong had been engaged in an active genocide against the indigenous Hmong tribes in Laos for over a decade and many had fled to Thailand and Cambodia throughout the previous decade.  The US had finally allowed for a large influx of these refugee Hmong families to enter into the States, but they needed families willing to house and feed them and help them become established.  With much consideration and prayer and in the face of many valid concerns for safety, my parents answered the call and became a host family.  The Lee's came to live with us while I was still an infant.

          I cannot imagine the fears and concerns that must have been present when our two families first met.  How my parents must have wondered if these people were good hearted individuals or would try to take advantage of them in some way or pose harm to their children.  How my father must have contemplated the additional financial burden of caring for two families and somehow helping them become self sufficient when they barely even spoke the language.  How difficult it must have been for mom and dad Lee to leave everything they knew and loved to be deposited on the other side of the world unable to make their own way or even speak the language.  Dependent on the kindness and generosity of strangers, their only option to trust that these strangers who they can barely communicate with would not attempt to misuse them or harm their children in any way.

          At the time my family owned a rather large farm.  While the first Hmong immigrants were not yet versed in western civilization nor were they able to speak English with ease, they knew how to grow the most beautiful produce and they were brilliant at managing a farming business.  Within a few years my parents were established in the small Hmong community and offered to the families small plots of land for rent each spring/summer to grow produce that they could then sell at the local farmers markets.  Every 1-3 acres was cultivated by a different family who would come to the farm early in the morning and work until mid afternoon.  Every family would build small shade shacks at the edge of their fields and in the heat of the afternoon they would rest together and eat their lunch.  My brothers and I had an open welcome into any place at any time.  I grew up wandering from field to field, playing with the children my age, learning the traditional Hmong agricultural techniques, falling asleep in the shade with the sound of Hmong music wafting from a battery powered radio and the smell of sticky rice and pork.  

          The Lee family became an important part of our family and the foundation of who I am.  I am who I am because I was blessed by experiencing the world through their history and culture.  My love of sticky rice, spring rolls, peanut sauce and traditional Hmong ballads exists because of the love and trust built between two different cultures.  Because my parents felt the calling to open their home in spite of the potential concerns and the obvious fears.  The Lee family were able to find a home half a world away from home, because love conquered fear.

Honduras

          When I was three years old my parents embarked on what several in my family deemed a foolish and dangerous endeavor.  The country of Nicaragua had been embroiled in a violent civil war and thousands of refugees had poured across the border into neighboring Honduras.  These refugees had been stuck in camps within Honduras for several years at this point, with no right to enter the country they were in and no possible way to return to their own country.  After much prayer my parents decided it was time to go and see what could be done.  They loaded myself and my brothers into our Volkswagen van and we headed from Minnesota to Honduras.

          My father spoke no Spanish and my mother only a very small amount.  They didn't know specifically where they were going in Honduras, nor if they would even have access to the refugee camps or even what help they could possibly be.  Several family members offered to keep us while my parents went by themselves, but my parents decided if this was happening we were going as a family.  They didn't know the roads through Mexico or Guatemala and they had never crossed a border before.  They knew there were guerrilla forces in southern Mexico and Guatemala and they had taken missionary families for ransom before, but they were also convinced this was something they were called to do.  So, they packed everything into the van and off we went.  

          I do not have enough space to detail all of the amazing blessings that came from this single choice.  But I will sum it up this way.  After a decade of traveling to and from my 'patria chica' Honduras to bring relief to refugees and poverty struck Hondurans, I spoke fluent Spanish as did my brothers and all of my family (saving myself) chose to move there permanently.  In my time spent in Latin America I learned that my comfort and desires means little next to the greater purpose of service to others under the guidance of God.  I learned that the greatest gift you can ever receive in life is to serve another person.  I learned to love marimba music, the Spanish language, Mayan culture and history and that love does not live within the borders of family, race or country.

          One experience during these journeys that I would like to share is when the tables were turned and my family became the refugees dependent on the goodness of others in a country where we had no money and barely spoke the language.  We were traveling through Guatemala to Honduras and my parents decided to make a rare excursion off the main course to a nearby tourist town and spend the afternoon just visiting the country as tourists.  We parked the van on a side street and locked up before heading out to walk the nearby square.  When we returned a couple hours later we found that the van had been broken into and my mother's purse had been taken.  My mother's purse contained all of our money, traveler's checks and passports. We were now stuck in a foreign country with no money and no identification to allow us to get home even if we had money.  

          We piled into the van and drove to the nearest city that had a US Embassy, Guatemala City.  Guatemala is the largest populated city in the country and it's not known to be low on crime rates.  My parents were able to get ahold of my grandpa who was able to wire us money, but because the process of getting new passports could take weeks we had to use the money sparingly.  We parked the van across the street from the embassy and down the road from a Chuck-e-Cheese.  Maybe it was because they wanted us to have a distraction or maybe it was the best price for food nearby, but for whatever reason we frequented the Chuck-e-Cheese almost every day for over a week.  Our van was burglarized twice during that time, but we didn't have extra money to use on a hotel so we said our prayers every night for protection and slept right in the van on the side of the road.  I cannot remember if it was into the second or third week we were stuck there ( I was still young and those details escape me) but a young woman who worked at Chuck-e-Cheese struck up a friendship with my parents.  When she found out what had happened and where we were staying she did not hesitate to offer us to stay with her and her young son in their apartment.

          I don't have many memories of their apartment, except that it was far from large.  I remember feeling bad that I knew we had displaced this woman from her own room and bed but being so thankful to be able to sleep in a bed without being woken up by every sound outside of the van wondering if it was a thief trying to get in.  I remember playing with her son (who was a few years younger than me) and wondering if she was afraid to leave him with us since she did not know us or if we would try to hurt him or steal her things.  Looking back I cannot imagine the goodness that moved her to make this offer to what must have appeared to be a homeless and penniless family from a different country.  I cannot imagine being in my parent's position having to rely on the kindness of a stranger because they could not in that moment care for their family without the help.  The grace it must have taken to have made the offer and the humility that was necessary in order to accept the offer that was made.  The leap of faith in God and human kindness that it took to trust that one would not take advantage of the other.  They were only good and kind to us and never once made me feel humiliated or ashamed for the position we were in.  I don't remember the woman's name, I can't remember if my parents were ever able to find her again and pay her back for her generosity, I wonder sometimes who that little boy grew up to be and I pray that somehow God will bless them for their offer of love.  

Joe

          I don't remember how old I was when Joe came to live with us.  I know I was under the age of ten.  It seemed like all at once he was just there, a part of our family.  But my mother remembers an entirely different entry into our household.  When she tells the story she explains that one day my father drove into the farm with a passenger in tow.  The passenger was Joe.  He was over six feet tall and over three hundred pounds wearing dirty clothes with hair and beard down nearly to his waist and no shoes.  He smelled....well, not like a rose.  Dad explained that Joe needed food and a place to stay for awhile.  My mother will tell you she was terrified on their first meeting and wondered if my father had brought home an ax murderer and when he might kill us all in our sleep.  She will tell you it took her several weeks before she felt like he wouldn't randomly flip out and become homicidal on us.  Joe was a vet who was down on his luck and had become homeless.  Looking back I am sure he struggled with some PTSD and probably self medicated to some extent.  

          Joe ended up living with us for years on the farm.  He never told about his time in war or how he ended up where my father found him on the side of the road.  But he told us about his travels around the US.  He also told us about his time as a chef and made the most delicious duck a'lorange.  He was always happy when baking or cooking something and always talked to me about how cooking was an artistic expression that required more than just mixing spices together.  To have a truly good dish you had to put your heart into it and 'feel' the right blend of spices.  Joe was strange and truly odd and I am confident he secretly slipped away to smoke pot out in the woods (although he never once brought anything of the sort around me or even discussed it in my presence.) but he was also someone who was perfectly gentle with me and who I felt 100% safe with at all times.  I remember many times my father telling me that Christ loved the most unloveable of men and if we are to be like Him than we must find what is worthy of love in the most unloveable of mankind.  When he met my parents, Joe perfectly fit the description of unloveable in every way.  To take him into their home was to take on a tremendous risk.  But to deem the risk too great because he was unloveable would have meant missing out on knowing all of the loveable qualities that he possessed.

          These are some of my experiences growing up with and loving the refugees, poor and lost from our country and other countries.  These are some of my experiences being in the position of a refugee myself and knowing what a gift it was to have a willing soul offer us their protection and care.  The extension of safety, protection and humanitarian care must always be prayerfully considered.  But if we allow fear to stop us before we have even considered it...I believe we have missed out on the blessings that can come from a gift of that magnitude.

On the Lies of Walt Disney and Nicholas Sparks

          Here is my one and only caveat on this post: these are my personal opinions formed by my individual observations and reflect only my perception of things.  I will not apologize for my individual observations nor will I dispute your right to have other observations.  I am not postulating that I possess any wisdom on these matters, they are merely my musings and I expect no one to change their lives over my personal thoughts.

          I have considered for much time the possibility of writing a post of this nature.  I have always hesitated because I am not sure how I want to shape it yet and because I (who have only had two dating relationships in my nearly thirty-five years of life) feel like it's too easy for someone to pass over what I am saying as baseless.  I have not 'found' the 'love of my life' so how could I possibly know anything about a relationship like that?  How could I have any relationship wisdom to offer someone?  If you doubt my ability to offer any perspective...feel free to stop reading.

          While talking with a co-worker today we began to discuss relationships and I pointed out a couple things that I have observed and experienced through the years.  I was surprised when she became very quiet and told me that she was so glad we were talking about this because my comments had given her a new perspective and she had to consider what I had said.  I was partially surprised that she was taking my observations with careful introspection, but also that these concepts which seem so obvious to me may not really be obvious at all.

          All of that being said here are a single, thirty-four year old, healed broken heart, dating rarely to never woman's observations on love and relationships.

• If you cling to a preconceived notion of what the perfect relationship is supposed to look like, you will be disappointed in any relationship that you have. 

• We all have preconceived ideas of what 'true love' is supposed to look and feel like.  They are created from watching the relationships around us, reading novels, watching television and movies that depict a great and timeless romance.  It's normal to form an idea of something that you would like to possess and imagining what you think it will be like.  The problem comes in when we cling so strongly to that preconceived notion that we cannot reconcile reality to the dream.  Have you ever heard the term 'in love with being in love'?  These are those people.  They have created an ideal that is so perfect they cannot accept any variation of that idea and therefore any relationship that does not fit perfectly into this picture cannot be 'true love'.  Relationships are only as perfect as the people in them therefore 'true love' is accepting that the person you have chosen may not meet your ideals every day for the rest of your life.  And the real shocker?  You probably won't meet theirs either.

• Whether you realize it or not, you DO have a preconceived notion of what 'true love' looks and feels like.  
• Don't believe me?  Picture the perfect evening with the perfect mate.  What does he/she look like, smell like, what does his/her laughter sound like, is he/she talkative or quiet, what do you like to do together?  If you honestly know the answer any of these questions, you have an ideal.  That's cool.  Just don't let that ideal destroy what may be a real loving relationship.
• If you spend all day/all night messaging or talking to someone and sharing your joys, fears, anger, tears with them...I hate to be the one to break it to you but you are in an intimate relationship with them.
• We have this ignorant concept that if we say we are not in a relationship with someone that means we are not, even if our actions say otherwise.  Consider who you speak to all day and night at any hour and that person always responds immediately without fail.  They never are showering, sleeping, working or out to eat when you are wanting to talk.  My mother carried me in her body for nine months and gave birth to me...she is not even available 100% of the time.  She tries to be, but life sometimes sneaks in and I have to wait for a response or a call back.  I know there are times when we are not ready to admit we have fallen into an intimate interaction with someone, that we feel anxious if they don't immediately respond and mildly elated when they do.  But the fact of the matter is the only time you have an immediate and constant interaction with another human being is when you are in an intimate dating relationship with them.  Especially if you are sharing the private highs and lows of your day with them.

• Walt Disney's 'happily ever after' ending with no imperfections created a lie that has  distorted the reality of being happy in a relationship.
• For as long as we are on this earth we can experience sadness, trials, loss, joy, hope, pain and love (among a host of other emotions).  To expect 'happily ever after' to include no growing pains or irritation or sorrow is to expect real life to be perfect.  It is not.  When we were children and watched Walt Disney cartoons we saw the knight on a shining horse (or worse, the rouge who for love fundamentally changed his entire character) swoop in and save the princess from a fate worse than death.  After which they immediately knew they were meant to be together and they lived 'happily ever after'.  What Walt never bothered to show us is that 'happily ever after' includes screaming children and endless diapers, laundry and dishes, waking up after three hours of sleep to stumble like a zombie to work an overtime shift to make enough extra money to cover a bigger mortgage because you have grown out of your tiny home.  'Happily ever after' doesn't always look happy, sometimes it looks like torture.  What Walt never explained is that it's possible to be happy in pure misery because you choose to love the person who is trudging through that misery with you.

•             Why does any of that matter? Let's consider this for a moment. If I grew up watching my favorite princess cartoons and created this longing for someone to swoop in and 'rescue' me from any real or perceived wrongs in my life, assuming all the while that as soon as this person comes and pulls me out of my current life into 'happily ever after' all of my concerns will disappear and we will ride off into the sunset perfectly happy for rest of our lives...what will I think when real life sets in and 'happily ever after' feels like misery in the moment? Might it be reasonable for me to assume that I was swept up by the wrong knight? If I could just get out of this situation and find the 'right' person... he would certainly save me and we could be 'happy ever after'.

• The only sure thing in a relationship is that you are both fallible human beings and at some point in that relationship you will end up hurting and disappointing each other.
• You cannot expect perfection in another person any more than they can expect it in you.  We all fail and we will all fail each other at some point in time.  And yet, when it comes to our most intimate relationships we somehow think they should never fail us or hurt us.  This is not meant to spread doom and gloom, it is meant to make you more aware of the facts.  It's not about if someone fails you, its about when they fail you will you have enough love and grace to forgive them?  Better yet, when you fail them...will they have enough love and grace to cover your failures?  Can the two of you together build a love that is strong enough to recover from even the deepest wounds you could imagine?  If you step into that relationship expecting the other person to never fail you...you have given them an impossible task and you have already failed them.  This is not to say you should just ignore or accept another persons flaws, it's to say you should be prepared for the possibility of failures and to work through them together whenever possible.

• Nicholas Sparks does not write about monumental love stories that changed time and space, if you knew those people (and you probably know some version of them) you would be exhausted by their drama.
• Look at the real love stories that stand the test of time and trials.  Are they built on the constant cycle of  I love you , I hate you, you hurt me, I cant live without you, get away from me etc.?  Or are they instead built on a steady foundation of knowledge, acceptance and grace?  I am not saying those true love stories don't have moments of drama or flashes of desire, but they probably weren't in a constant cycle of drama and desire.  It's not a sustainable cycle.  Humans become emotionally drained and need time to rest.  A Nicholas Sparks romance never gives time for an individual to rest in the love of another person, because they are too busy constantly cycling through emotions.  True love should not exhaust you to the point of wanting to hide in a dark closet just to be alone and think.

• If this person does not make you better by knowing them, if you do not make them a better person...what is the ultimate goal of your being together?
• I am someone who believes that we all have a purpose in this life.  I know my individual purpose is to serve my God.  Why would I commit to sharing my life with someone if they do not help and encourage me in that goal?  Why would I allow them to be tied to me if I know they are not fulfilling their purpose in life more fully for being with me?  In the past I have devoted my heart to someone who did not encourage me to be the best person I could be.  I lost myself in my drive to hold onto him.  And to be fully honest, I didn't help him be a better man either.  We were not better individuals for being together.  I held on frantically for awhile, because 'I loved him'.  What I painfully learned is, I can love someone with all of my heart and not be the best match for them.  So, if I truly love him and know I do not help make him the best man he can be...would I not love him best by letting him go?  I loved him then and I love him still, and we are not together because I finally loved him enough to walk away.

• If you are interested in someone you must immediately make a list of any flaws you can think of in them.  This will act as your tether to reality when the rose colored glasses go on and you no longer see flaws.  Ask yourself if you can live the rest of your life with the items on the list.  If you can...pursue it. If not...walk away before you become invested. (advise from my father)

• If you are interested in a man watch how he treats the following people: his mother-because at some point in your relationship he will feel like you are mothering him, his enemies- because at some point in your relationship he will see you as an enemy, the 'unwanted'-because at some point in your relationship he will be tired and see your presence as a nuisance,  his friends-because more than anything he should always be your best friend. (advise from my mother)

          I could go on ( I have too many opinions) but I will spare you the rest.  If you have read this far you are probably either enraged or tired of my opinions by now.  I am sure I am not 100% correct, but I am also sure I am not 100% incorrect.  Take what you will from it and leave the rest.  They are, after all, only random thoughts.
   
    

         

I Can Do All Things

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

Philippians 4:13

          Whenever a child tells me 'I can't do it' my immediate response is, 'We never say 'I can't' because that is not true.  Sometimes things are very hard or you don't know how to do them and it's okay to acknowledge that and say 'it's very hard or I don't know how' but nothing is impossible if we try our hardest and pray for God to help us.  You CAN do it.'

          I realize they are probably only half listening and wondering when I am going to stop talking and let them play already, but I feel very strongly that it is an important distinction to make for myself and for a growing child.  I want them to grow up knowing that if they give 100% and seek the blessings of God, they can accomplish things that seem impossible.  I also want and need the reminder for myself on a regular basis.  I find that most times when we look at something and say 'I can't' what we truly mean is 'I don't know how', ' I am scared I will fail', ' I know it will be very hard and I don't want to try'.  Can't becomes what we say when the truth is we won't.   

          Sometime last year I set a goal for myself.  I decided I would run a marathon before I turn thirty-five.  I began training and preparing for races.  I then selected the marathon I wanted to run and began working toward it.  In January I ran a 15K with a good friend of mine.  It was a beautiful day and I felt fully confident and on the path to achieving my goal.  I noticed some pain in my Achilles but chalked it up to the stress of the run I had just completed.  Within two months I could barely walk around the block without severe pain and I began to have shooting pain up the back of my legs.  I ended up in physical therapy with tendinitis in both Achilles, Posterior Tibial Ligaments and Plantar Fasciitis.  It took three months of physical therapy before I could even begin light hiking and a couple months more before running any distance without risking permanent damage was an option.  My goal seemed foolish, it couldn't be done.  I struggled against gaining weight and a deep sadness that I cannot even explain.  Silly to be that down over something so simple as restricted movement.  I still was abundantly blessed and was slowly recovering, but the sadness was very palpable.

          As soon as I was cleared to begin running again I was hit with the realization that in a matter of months I had gone from completing a 15K to barely finishing a mile and having to baby my still recovering feet.  I struggled with the desire to just give up and only focus on exercises that didn't require stress on my feet.  If I couldn't make my goal what was the point anyway?  During this period of recovery I became very dependent on the above verse from Philippians.  If I believe this is a promise from the creator of the universe and if I believe that He is faithful in all of His promises, then I must conclude that hope is not lost and therefore I should not give up.  The progress felt tremendously slow, but I did not give up.

          About a month ago I mentioned to my cousin and one of my best friends that I had made this goal of running a marathon and I thought I had found one that I could train for and complete just two weeks shy of my thirty-fifth birthday.  To my surprise...she told me she would train and plan to run it with me. I was over the moon thrilled when two more dear friends spoke up saying they would like to tackle the course as well. I set up a coaching program and I began doing light training to prepare myself.  I was full of thrilled excitement at the prospect of actually making this goal become a reality when I made the fatal error of looking ahead at my training schedule.  I believe there is a good reason we are not given a play by play of our futures.  Can you imagine how terrified we would be to see the obstacles coming our way and not have the gift of blindly working through the small steps that take us through them?  I stared at the numbers on that schedule and thought, "I have been running 10-12 miles each week and I'm supposed to do that much in a single run in how many weeks?  I can't do that!"  I was scared, worried, unsure of how it would be accomplished and concerned my body wouldn't hold up through it all.  

          The next morning I was scheduled to complete a 4 mile run.  It took me two hours and lots of prayer before I was able to work up the desire in myself to go out at all.  As I ran I thought, "If I have lost my drive to run at this point, how in the world will I encourage myself to go out and run when I'm supposed to go for 10,12,16 or 20 miles at once?  I don't know if this is possible.".  When I got back to my house I started reading through scriptures and stopped at the verse in Philippians.  As I read and re-read the scripture, the realization dawned on me that I can't do it...by myself.  I don't have the strength, desire or athletic ability to accomplish such a large goal on my own.  But I was not doing it on my own.  I had several friends working toward this goal with me and even better than that, I have the power of the creator of heaven and earth on my side...if I will dedicate the time and efforts to Him and ask Him to help me.

          So, here I am proclaiming to the world.  This coming Monday I officially begin my training schedule.  It is my intention to run the Phoenix Marathon this coming February and I will dedicate all the time in training that I can to reach that goal.  I know however, that I will not reach that goal with my own personal strength and efforts alone.  I also know that:

• I am scared I will try and fail
• I am scared I will not be able to run fast enough to make the cut off time
• I am worried I will sustain another injury and have to stop in the middle of my training
• I am terrified at the thought of running over 10 miles at a time much less 26.2
• I am concerned that on the day of the race I will become injured or sick and not finish
• I have no idea how I will be able to successfully accomplish this
• I am scared that I will have to admit to everyone that I did not make it 

That all being said; I am also confident that God's promises are true and if I focus on one day at a time and ask Him for strength when I feel mine is gone, He will be faithful to carry me through to the finish line.  

May you find that God is your strength through every trial in your life and may you find that in relying on His strength all of your doubts and fears are replaced with the knowledge that in Him the only thing you can't do is fail.