Category Archives: Running

A runner’s dream day…

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Cap city

Yet another Saturday morning, another great morning for a run.  Except this Saturday, May 4th, I would be allowed to run in another race.  I do not write the word allowed lightly because as anyone can testify, simply to be ABLE to run is a gift in and of itself.  Simple fact is bodies do wear down.  This feat defies time.  It defies logic.  In fact, I dare say this feat starts first in your mind, then your legs simply obey… mostly.

For me, this particular race had me backtracking…. in my mind anyway.  For this race, run in the streets of Columbus, was the first first time I towed the line for a long-distance event ever, seven years ago.  It’s been a privilege to run this one every year since.  And not only did the day bring about perfect weather conditions, but I was privileged to experience yet another start with a friend who’s “run alongside” me in various ways for over six years now.  You cannot actually see her giant-sized heart in that lean and healthy body of hers, but I’m telling you, not sure how it fits in there.  She has a heart of a champion, not only in her hard work efforts, but more importantly in her compassion and generosity for others. To many more years my friend!!

I could share many memory-pictures of today.  Some have meaning to me alone, some have a greater meaning to us all, some just celebrate the family-hood that comes from enduring the hard and cheering on it’s members.  I simply share so that I can remember.  I want to remember these lessons to share them with my children.  I want to remember because when things get hard again (and they will), I want to trace His faithfulness, His strength, His lavish love.

And it was for this reason that I have one crystal clear memory.  It was mile 7.  My mind celebrates the past-half-way point, but my body begs to differ.  In the excitement of race day, in the flow of being surrounded by the mass of others, I run faster than my typical pace.  And in that excitement, I start to think about numbers.  And when I start to think about numbers, that becomes my focus.  And the mind games begin.  I really don’t want to settle there, but in the flow it happens.  And so, just ahead, I see a sign.  It’s held up strong and high by it’s owner.  It has three simple words written on it.  And it rocks my thoughts.

Run For God.

That’s it.  That was this is all about.  That’s why I began, that’s why I continue.  I run – FOR God, BY God, IN God.  And my countenance shifted.  And the sun seemed a little bit warmer, and the sky appeared a little bit bluer, and the breeze was a little bit cooler, and my smile was a little bit wider.  Pain?  Yep, still present.  But therein lies a blessing in pain, it’s a reminder of the work I’m putting in.  Work that is worth it each and every time.  So much so, that I keep on working, until He tells me otherwise.

And I finish.  And I celebrate with my family who have come to support, and friends who have traveled the journey as well.  I also celebrate those who have finished this course for the very first time, with a story each their own.  And I receive a medal that serves as marker #19 in my count of half-marathon races.  And I cherish this day to honor my God who has blessed me beyond what I deserve.  And I return home to a full family day that includes shopping for and planting flowers with my girls, hearing my boys talk about their games of pick-up basketball, and jumping on our bikes for a ride to DQ, and my heart is full.

And to top it off, I receive an email from Cap City.  I hadn’t seen a time of 1:52 in quite awhile.  I was happy with thinking I hit the 1:53 range, because for a long while I couldn’t break the 1:54 mark.  And what number did I see flash across my iPhone screen?

1:52.59   Boom!  I celebrated like a 2 year old on Christmas, just God and I in that moment.  So fun.  I’m so grateful.

And through our current family situation, His words ring loud and true:

Philippians 4:11-13

11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

May we all continue to remember.  Thank you Jesus.

Unexpected blessings.

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balance winter running 460

So I awoke this morning knowing that a long run was ahead of me.  Sometimes this gets my juices flowing, other times it brings a feeling of dread.  Today was the latter.  After returning home late from an-all day trip last evening, I wasn’t sure how my body would respond today.  Yet, I knew my mind was set, and this run was on the “agenda”.

I decided to run on our local trail today, which means I needed to drive to said location.  As I drove, I glanced at the many runners that were already out and about.  It WAS a great morning for a run, sunshine out, much of the snow melted, no wind, simply a fresh-air smell in the air.  So what was with my Debbie-downer attitude?  Oh well, time to get going!  I decided to listen to a few Podcasts by some great preachers.  And the rest of the run is now history…

I was mentally so challenged by the words the Lord spoke to me through these messages, that I was utterly distracted.  My body had many moans and groans, but my spirit was just soaking and soaring!  With one step at a time, the miles ticked away, and I found myself starting to smile at the many cyclists, walkers, and runners that passed my view.  And a thought was renewed once again…

Just step into the “next” Heather, and simply watch where it takes you.

For some reason, I decided to run the entire trail today – 6 miles down, 6 miles back.  Last weekend I ran 10 of these 12, and my body was tempting me to cut those last two miles off again.  But I’m stubborn.  Ironically, it was just after mile 10 when my “conversations” with the Lord turned real personal.  I had just listened to a story of an ordinary lady who dared to be reckless in following God’s directive around the world.  The ways in which the Lord used her humble, willing spirit was nothing short of a miracle.  It was then that I heard, “It’s time”.  My soul knew exactly what that meant.  I repeated what I heard just for confirmation and then asked one more clarifying question, “When?”

Honduras.  October trip.

And I responded, “Okay.”

And I’m so excited.

In fact, just a half mile short of the finish, as I my mind wandered away from the happenings around me, I sudden saw a hand waving at me.  This person had been walking towards me for awhile, I just didn’t “see” him.  It was our friend Jeff, going for a walk with his dog.  This wasn’t just an ordinary friend, this was a guy who, along with his amazing wife, have adopted 3 children.  From Central and South America.  And I smiled and waved back.  Little did he know.  Little did I know.

And I reached the “finish line”, which isn’t really the “finish line”, but a beginning line, and I knew that the moment I stopped I would experience intense pain.  And I did.  And I’ll do it again.  Not out of stupidity, but of experience.  Because this I now know -

Obedience brings rewards.  Many times in ways that blow my mind.

I don’t want to miss.  God continues to transform lives today through His wild love.

2 Chronicles 16:9 - For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.

I want to extend my commitment to the Lord, in spite of circumstances, in spite of comfort, in spite of equipping, in spite of a language barrier.  I want to dare to believe that God has a plan for my good (and the good of others) that goes beyond my understanding.  I want to be where God is moving.  I want to be blown away.  I want to be broken, in fact, dare I say I want to be wrecked… for Him.
hands-copyLord here I am, send me.

Matthew 28:19 - Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Thank you Jesus for your timing.  I promised I would wait for your prompting, even if it didn’t happen for years.  I trust you.  I love you.  Thank you in advance for how you will break this vessel to be restored in you.  Use me Lord.  However you see fit.

Run

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Girl.Running

This weather has been such a treat.  Such a joy.  Such a gift.  Us Ohioans know that it’s a short-term joy.  It’s but a glimpse of what the next season will bring us… eventually.  But for today, I say thanks.  In in the spirit of thanksgiving, I took some time to do a bit of studying tonight.  Whether you walk, jog, or sprint, we all have this race of life that we run.  May we find joy amongst all life’s water stops, detours, and road blocks…

Because today looks like a good day to be a runner…

Run to Jesus (Proverbs 18:10)
Run unhindered (Proverbs 4:12)
Run the right course (Psalm 119:32)
Run with endurance (Isaiah 40:31)
Run for the prize (1 Corinthians 9:24)
Run fit (I Corinthians 9:25)
Run with confidence (I Corinthians 9:26)
Run with purpose (Philippians 2:16)
Run unimpeded (Hebrews 12:1)
Run with focus (Hebrews 12:2)
Run to the finish (2 Timothy 4:7)

Running for Rachel’s House!

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This morning, I woke up at 6:00 (which was really 7:00), and I laced up my shoes.  My husband came downstairs and asked me how I was feeling.  Actually, I wasn’t thinking about the running part at all.  I was thinking about some special women.  You see, just a few moments early I was reading.  I was reading about the time when my Jesus hung on the cross.  For me.  And for everyone.  I read the words of the Roman officer who had a front row view.  After Jesus died he said, “This man truly was the Son of God!”

No denying it.  Jesus hung next to two other criminals.  One would see Jesus in paradise a few moments later, the other would not.

I had the privilege of hearing a woman’s testimony before we began the race.  She spoke briefly of her life in bondage.  Then she spoke of her God.  Her God that gave her a special gift.  She called it jail.  And He became her everything.  And Rachel’s House, part of Lower Lights Ministries, became a safe haven for her healing process.  And she is now employed.  And through her tears, she expressed joy and freedom unlike anything she had previous known.  And without Rachel’s house, her past would have dictated her future of repeated mistakes.  And now the prisoner is free and wants to “turn back and strength her sisters” (Luke 22:32).

And as I heard Donald Miller speak about “story” just two days ago, I thought about HIS story in each of our lives.  The Spirit lives through us in telling HIS story.  And I heard just a glimpse today.  And it brought me to tears.  Redemption.  Restoration.  Healing.  Living.  That is what my Jesus, and your Jesus died for.

And these precious women showed up today.  Some walked, some ran, some helped.  And it was a morning of celebration.  The temperature was chilly, but the sun was bright!  Upon the completion of the race, a full breakfast was served, gifts were given, and relationships developed.

In fact, I met several people from Rock City church for the first time today.  I even had the privilege of hearing a few of their stories.  And I was blown away.  When God gives a church a mission statement (to reach the unchurched and the spiritually restless), he truly does BRING those people.  Beautiful stories.  Amazing God.

Thanks to the Milam family for spreading the word about this event.  Thanks to the Pinnacle Ladies Association for running a well organized event.  Thanks to those serving in a a ministry role every day.  Thanks be to God to deserves all the glory and the honor and the praise.

How was YOUR Sunday?

My 5th Marathon – what a day in Columbus!

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This day began in the wee hours of the morning. Though not completely foreign to this body, I found myself anticipating the events of the day.  As only experience can share, training leads me to today, but it’s not a complete guarantee of running through my “best day”.  If it happens, complete gratitude, because as I’ve learned, the body can be unpredictable.

At 5:30 am, I drove to my dear friend Amanda’s home, a short quarter mile away.  I ran my first Columbus Marathon with her 5 years ago, 5 years later, we’re traveling together to my fifth marathon.  Oh the stories the years could tell.  We met yet another friend, and it was smooth sailing all the way to the parking garage.  We arrived on time and decided to chat a bit longer in the warm car before heading to the starting corrals.  As we began to walk towards the stairs, I hear my name being called.  Of all the 20,000 participants of the day, we just so happened to park across from my brother and his lovely wife!  Explain that!

Now a peppy group of five, we headed to the start, along with thousands of others.  It was a beautiful sunrise, we heard a warming rendition of the National Anthem, heard the sound of a cannon, and witnessed a visual sight of fireworks.  While waiting, we spoke with a gentleman that is 77 years old.  He will soon be finishing his 50th race!  He was witty, he was genuine, he was fascinatingly real, and he was encouraging – such a hopeful glimpse of the years to come and the celebration of health and life.

Soon the gun sounded, and off we went… about 5 minutes later.  What can you do?  Lots of people, does mean some waiting :)   This is the exciting part – spectators cheering, searching for their loved ones, the rise of warm breath in the air, the sound of feet pounding, and music pouring though ear buds.  This is the celebration of the training.

Not too far into the miles, I happened to glance over and see my sister-in-law – fun!  We ran together for a few miles before parting at a water stop.  Ahead I noticed another friend, this time a Mom from gymnastics, we exchanged a nod and a few words.  Up ahead at mile 7, I anticipated high-fiving my buddy Toby, one of the patient champions represented all throughout the course.  I ended up on the opposite side of the street, yet I took a moment to pray for this brave child, undergoing yet another surgery tomorrow.  Soon after that, I thought about my students who so kindly created supportive signs for the hallway outside my classroom.  A friend from high school had commented on facebook.  I’m not sure why, but I glance behind me to my left, and there she was!   We exchanged a side-hug, a few words, and parted ways.

Not much farther ahead, we reached a water stop, and my friend Kathy so kindly handed me a much needed cup of water.  Soon it was mile 10, so far so good!  Only three to go and I’d hit the half-way mark!  Well, I got “hit” alright.  Pain.  Lower Back.  Not so good.  This has happened on and off in training, I knew it was a possibility, and here is was.  16 more miles to go.  What’s a girl to do?  Take some Advil, and grab some water at mile 12!

To attempt to describe the situation with words is a bit complicated, best I can say is that I went to “that other place.”  It’s a separation of sorts.  You mentally detach from the body.  Call it distraction, call it choice, but it’s a state where I can be fully aware that pain is racking my body, yet mentally I choose other thoughts.  It’s part of the reason why someone can “look like” they haven’t run 26 miles.  This is a learned skill.  It’s practiced in training.  You understand the truth a bit clearer.  The truth is you’re not dying.  The truth is your body is temporarily in pain from induced stress.  You recognize different types of pain, and your behavior responds accordingly.  In this case, I chose to continue to take in the sights and sounds.

Every mile marker, a child champion was celebrated.  I thought about the bravery of those children whose race lasts a lifetime, not just four hours.  I thought about the “angels” and hundreds of supporters who donned t-shirts, raised signs and tents, and created an atmosphere of support.  I became intentional about thanking those who took their morning to extend a hand in support of my hydration every mile, for those who called out my name designated on my bib, and over the loudspeaker.  I appreciated a fellow Ironman champion friend who was experiencing her own pain, yet yelled in support of all those around her, I even heard my name yelled from a passing car as friend drove by (what timing?!)

At mile 17 we ran around the shoe, and then through the shoe!  People lined the bleachers, all in support of those who said yes to a silly race over 4 months prior.  Bands played, college students and athletes were present, I can say I never felt alone.  And then I was nearing mile 20, my heart was gearing up for this.  You see, a large part of my heart would be waiting there, and I needed to see them almost more than I needed my next breath.  They understand when “Mommy is going for a run”, they make me pasta dinners the night before, and come shoe shopping with me, and wait for my return on a Saturday morning before heading to our family activities.  They love to come to my events as much as I love attending theirs.  And there they were…

  And in those hugs, I felt refueled.  I had six more miles to go.  And the countdown began.  There’s a moment when you believe, in the midst of muscle tightness, heavy legs, and depleted energy, that you will not only finish, but you will finish well… I wasn’t quite there yet, but I would be, very soon.

And then the Lord sent another friend, he ran beside me in jeans, carrying a chair over his shoulder, and then a water stop could be seen ahead, and then I saw a pink shirt.  The shirt of my friend Amanda.  And we ran together for a mile, and we separated at a water stop, and then it was mile 25.  One more to go.  All mental at this point.  There’s an uphill, and it’s literally a chant in your head – almost there, almost there – and then I see a sign – “You are no longer a runner, you are a marathoner”.  And I gasp.  It’s truth.  The sheer statement of an accomplishment within a short grasp.  And I set my sights – one more stretch, one more turn, one more orange sign, around the corner, and a short .2 mile downhill finish.

And the crowd is thick, and the noise literally lifts you up, and I glance to the right and see my Dad waving.  I’ve never seen my parents at the finish before today, it’s usually a blur.  And I receive another gift.  And I cross the finish line.  And I see my friend Amanda.  And we embrace in emotion.  We both ran with pain.  We didn’t even need to say it, we knew it.  And we rejoiced in our finish time, in spite of pain.  I never thought I would break the four hour mark again (3:58.19).  And we thank the Lord who gives us the reason to run in the first place.  And we take a picture to remember.  And we celebrate with family.  And we share through social-media.  And we take a nap.  And we remember… for it is in those times that we reach the complete end of ourselves, that we remember the One who gives us life.  Life to be celebrated!

Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

The mindset of a crazy nut that runs…

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So my husband heard me lament a bit last night.

Okay, maybe more that just a bit.

I was thinking about the distance on my training calendar looming above my head in a thought bubble.

18

Eighteen miles was the distance.  That’s a pretty big number.  And yet, that was only one more than two weeks ago, only five more than 6 days ago.  But it’s still a pretty big number.

I’ve completed this distance before, but that was before.  This was today.

And so, I prepared.  Bed early (no problems there).  Water bottles in frig (check).  Course decided (sigh).  Time to wake?  We’ll see what the Lord brings…

6:20 am reads my night table clock.

Alrighty then, let’s rock and roll!!  (well, maybe a little more rock than roll).

I dress in the dark.  I stagger down the stairs.  I let the dog out.

Whoa.  As my friend Meridith would later tweet… Holy Humidity!

Nice.

Grab my shoes.  Pretend to stretch my legs as if it will relieve the stress about to be required.  Get the tunes.  Snatch the water bottles.  Out the door.  Here we go.

And we’re off… slow but steady.  So far so good.  Sweatin already.  Many more miles to go.  Ahead I see the back of a girl.  Is it my friend Amanda?  Oh please, oh please, could it be?  No.  Bummer.

Heading towards the Hilliard path now.  Ready to drop this extra weight of a water bottle (all 1 pound of it).  I know I’ll need it later.  Check.  Still hangin in their pain wise.  Very thankful.  My mind wanders from songs, to random thoughts, and then I stew on a thought for a minute.  While lamenting to my hubbie yesterday, he makes a very wise and true statement:

Running is a  in mindset.

That it is.  Locked and loaded baby.  To finish any training run, I’ve learned to lock my mind on both the distance and the course ahead.  Funny thing is, each training run is the same.  There’s a beginning, middle, and end.  It could be a hard run for 3 miles or 26 miles.  It’s all a mindset.

And along the way, I will be distracted from my mindset.  There are people, traffic, construction, rain, and even bugs that fly in your eye and threaten to take you out of the game.  I’ve learned to roll with it.  You have to if you want to finish.

So much like my spiritual life.

If I want to “finish” the race of life well, I need to have a mindset, a fix per se.  I need to choose that because distractions abound.  The bible says to fix my eyes on Jesus (Hebrews 12:2), and to fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Cor. 4:18)

So true.  He helped emphasis that for me in Honduras.  All this that I see is temporary.  It perishes.  All of it.  It has an end.  Including the pain… which is setting in pretty strong at that moment.

I’m heading to 7 now, and pass the girl who wasn’t-my-friend-Amanda, say, “Good morning” like I have several times now on this trail of fellow crazies, and continue on my way.  No lie, not a few minutes later, I see another girl heading my way with a cute green tank top on (I notice it because of the vibrant color!)  Guess who it is?  Yep.  My friend Amanda!!!  And I just finished saying, (insert sing-songy-voice-that-Austin-uses-to-imiate-girls) “Whatever you have for me Lord.”

What a gift.

We run together for the next 6 miles.  At one point, I walk a bit, at another point she pulls off to grab a drink, we met together again, and we simple resume the journey, the one we’ve traveled through together for the past 5 years.  Priceless.

I still have a few to go as we part ways.  I pass two more friends who are rock stars.  I say that because they will undertake an IRONMAN race next week.  Such an amazing feat to me.  I pass another young man who is running on a prosthetic.  I pray for him.  I run a little further and get a wild hair to fuel up again at a local joint.  I can’t quite believe I took my sweaty self into Abners’ to ask for a glass of water, but I was thirsty.  I got “the look”, but it was worth it.  I walked here and there when my body was having a hissy-fit.  And I finished.

And it was good.

Good because I finished.  Good because I’m home.  And home means family.  And home means time together sharing life.  And I was excited to live it with them, whatever the day ahead held.  My mind-set on Jesus, brings me to a state of gratitude and thankfulness for each moment He gives, for each gift he bestows.  And yes, even the gift of running.

This race was about a name…

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Aaron and I hit the streets this morning, 7 am to be exact! We headed over to Dublin’s Emerald City half-marathon in the dark, our neighbor Erin driving, and a newbie Melanie joined us for her first race in several years.  We reminisced about past races, we took a longer ride than anticipated, we got delayed in a bit of traffic, yet we arrived just in time to be greeted by another fellow friend and her son, Deanna and Alex.  Perfect timing!

As with any race, it’s always fun to anticipate what could possibly happen, because one truly never knows!  Aaron had decided just two days prior, that he was going to give it a go.  I’m so proud of him for running.  He was running for a different reason today, and it wasn’t for a personal best time.  I admire his tenacity. I’ve learned to appreciate his stubbornness.

Well, through my training as of May, I’ve learned one major lesson.  That lesson is simply to listen to my body.  I’ve learned to go with the pace it’s comfortable with until it lets me know it can handle more.  Sounds a bit strange, but true to form, my hamstring injury, literally right at mile 2, loosened up and then I could stride out farther, felt stronger.  The sun felt great, the park sites were beautiful, I was feeling good, bring it on!

Around mile 4, I noticed that a runner was keeping the exact same pace that I was keeping at the moment.  It always strikes me as strange as many people both pass and fall behind throughout the entire race.  To have someone stride for stride with you is a true rarity.  I’ll admit, it was a bit awkward at first.  I had two choices, either speed up, or make the best of it.  My body scoffed at the thought of speeding up, so instead, I decided to strike up a conversation.

That conversation lasted on and off the entire rest of the race as we finished at exactly the same time!  Truly remarkable.  We had a chance to learn a bit about one another, family, work, and other such things.  We shared about our running journeys, kids, past adventures, but most importantly we shared about our beliefs.  He used words such as karma, I used words such as God and faith.  It was such a natural conversation, almost as natural as breathing… though it was a hard, aerobic breathing.

At one point, I mentioned that Aaron and I were headed into a new chapter of our lives as we look at unemployment and future possibilities.  Without hesitating, he says, “Have him send me his resume.  Good things happen to good people.”  And I smiled.

Only God can orchestrate moments like this.  Moments that happen simply because one steps into an opportunity of obedience (ie running), and God gets to gift, almost even show off!

Will something come from this?  Only God knows.  But this I do know.  God provided again.  He provided a companion to literally run alongside me for this leg of the journey.  Not only did it provide a welcome distraction amongst bodily pain, He provided an opportunity for a chance to share about my Jesus.  He used the avenue of a common interest in running to open a connection either for the moment and/or for the future.  God never wastes anything!

The other impact of this race was a concept I’ve been chewing on since returning from Honduras – the sweet sound of my name.  Truly, not to sound self-centered, but I rarely, and I do mean rarely, hear the name “Heather” uttered.  I’m called Mom, hon, hey, Austin’s mom, Emma’s mom, Brynn’s mom, often, but very rarely Heather.  I don’t mind, really I don’t.  In previous years, I worked at a deaf school and was “called” a variety of utterance even, but it wasn’t until meeting people in Honduras, did I hear the sweet sound of the rolled “r” in Heather…. and parts of me woke up.  Really.  A part of me had forgotten about things I used to love doing.  And then I did them, and this indescribable joy welled up inside.

While running today, I heard “Heather” at least 30 times, no exaggeration.  Our bib numbers also included our names, so as we passed, the volunteers graciously handing out water, or those who simply came to cheer, called out my name… and it blessed me.  It lifted me.  It was God bringing back to remembrance the sweet sound of an individual name.  And I thought of the sweet sound of another name.  And as I worshiped today, emotions welled up…. Jesus.  Jesus.  Jesus.

Lord, thank you for a very special day today.  I thank you for reaching out to me in such a personal way.  I thank you for providing friends along this journey, those who have traveled the streets with me for a while, and those just joining in today.  Thank you for the gift of my husband.  I have so much love for this man.  Thank you for our children.  We had the privilege of watching one child reach a milestone today.  Yesterday, she was baiting a hook so bravely, today she simply decided it was time to take off the training wheels, and off she rode.  Thank you for such a sweet time of worship and a perfectly designed message.  Thank you for a great night of family time.  As I glimpse to tomorrow, I have an appointment on the calendar.  I will be meeting with my past principal as to inquire about a job back in teaching again.  Lord, you knew about this meeting, and I’m leaving it in your hands.  I trust you with my future.  I trust you with my family.  I trust in your provisions.  Lord I believe, help my unbelief.  Amen.

What will STOP you today?

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It was actually a nice morning for a run!  Clouds covered the lately searing sun, a breeze was blowing, and humidity hadn’t quite come to bite just yet.  I began to cross one more neighborhood street before turning the same corner that I’ve turned hundreds of times, when I saw something.

It was the moment where someone turns the slow-motion button on your life, and the next few instances play out in vivid 3D.

I was about half-way across the street when to the right, an object caught my eye.  A car.  It was moving forward.  The driver was turned completely to her right.  Her mouth was moving towards the young lady passenger.  She didn’t see me.  Was she going to see me?

I froze.  No, I moved.  Away.  And then… she braked.  She threw her hand, palm open, over her chest.  And we stared at each other.

I know my heart was racing, I can imagine her’s was as well.  Her daughter had warned her.  She was inches from my physical body.

And then… she gestured.  It wasn’t an apologetic gesture, it wasn’t one of remorse.  Her head shook from side to side, and her face squished up into a “shame-on-you” look.

I’d like to say I had a Christ-like reaction.  I did not.  In my heightened state of awareness, I too made a gesture.  I lifted the arm closest to the big, bright-red, octagonal shaped sign that clearly reads S.T.O.P, pointed firmly, and yelled something that was surely lip-readable. Yikes.

I turned, and started running again.

Needless to say, I rehashed this over and over again for the next 8 miles.  Emotions.  How quickly they sway.  In the instant of our reactions, she and I lashed out, we defended ourselves, we laid blame/fault.  According to traffic laws, there was a breech.  According to morality laws, I have no legs to stand on.

Just as I have run these streets a million times, she has driven her street a million times without incident.  When I drive, do I have a perfect record?  Absolutely not.  In fact, my right bumper stares at me every time I walk to the van. Have I talked with my children, talked on the phone, glanced down at an inappropriate time?  You bet ya!  I had no justification for pointing a finger that, roles reversed, could have been pointed at me.

Would I have liked to extend grace and mercy?  Actually yes.  She hadn’t done it on purpose.  In fact, in that moment, my heart went out to that teenage girl.  It appreared she was getting quite the lashing, and so early in the morning.  I have no idea was precipitated the discussion.  I’m sure the mother had a reason for the talk, yet at the same time – she’s a teenager.  She’s not a perfect person.  None of us are.  Perhaps grace would have bridged a gap where berating could not.

And yet, I turned and ran.  She had stopped.

I’m not sure what took place in that car after I left.  They never did pass me.  Perhaps God had them stop for his divine reason.  Perhaps it was a chance for a re-evaluation of priorities.  Perhaps it was a moment to pause, stop, and extend grace.  I’ll never know, but this I do.  I prayed for that; with all my heart.

I prayed that the driver would have a sense of the forgiveness I so desperately wanted to extend.  I prayed the passenger would have a sense of gratefulness that she alerted the driver on my behalf.  I prayed that moments in my life will stop me, help me to pause, and to react with grace instead of unmerciful justice.

When I think of ALL the moments that Christ has, and will continue to extend His undeserved mercy and grace to me, I crumble in humble awe.  Lord, may I extend grace to myself in my human reactions.  You give me these emotions, and you also teach me how to confess and repent.  Thank you.  But Lord, may I be pricked to practice the art of pausing.  Pausing to allow your spirit too come in and boss my heart heart around.  I want to see the love you have for your children.  I want your wisdom to rule over my  desire for temporal justice.  I want to love like you love – beyond reason.

2 John 1:3
Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and from Jesus Christ, the Father’s Son, will be with us in truth and love.

What has STOPPED you today?  What was the outcome?