Marathon Sunday

Last fall, Jennifer and I decided we wanted to train to run the OKC Memorial Marathon. We put our schedule on the fridge and marked off our days as we trained. We made it about 9 weeks before we both just got so busy we couldn't keep up any longer. The holidays came, and Oklahoma saw a lot of snow and training became less and less important.
I never registered for the marathon, because it costs a lot of money. That was probably my first mistake--because it made letting my slacking become less of a big deal.
Jennifer signed up to do the relay with her siblings. I didn't really have anything like that available to me as an option, so I had just put it in the back of my head as something I'd work harder to do next year. I kept casually running in my free time, about 2 or 3 miles. Not really trying, just running without a goal of any kind.
Then I had my jaw surgery. I was on a liquid diet for 2 weeks, followed by soft foods for the following 4. It was after the first week of not being allowed to eat anything I realized that I really wanted to run. I had to wait until I could get some sort of nourishment in me before I could, so when I got the chance I headed out to the track to see if I could make it a couple miles.
I did.
And I was hooked.
I made out a schedule of how I would spend my days training. I set an ultimate 5K time goal, and a plan to work my time down to it. And with the end in mind, I have been able to come back into running stronger than I've been in years.

So this morning was the marathon.
I knew I wasn't running in it, but when I woke up this morning for church, something wasn't right. I didn't want to go (which is really rare for me lately, because I LOVE my church).
I didn't want to go because I felt like there was something else I needed to be doing.
So I put on my sunblock and shoes and drove out to the lake. I took a deep breath and started my watch and I took off.
I knew there wasn't going to be a reward, or a finish line, or a bunch of very convenient drink stations. But there was me, the sunshine, the water, and the 9 mile path ahead. There was motivation to run.
Even though I didn't pay to run for victims of the bombing, I ran for them.
And I ran for Rosemary
and Aunt Kim
and Mr. Porecca
and Katie Kirkpatrick.
I ran because I can, and sometimes I just have to remember what working hard feels like.
To teach me something about pain.
To remind me that if I stop, I can't finish.

I press on toward the goal to win the prize in which God has called me heavenward in Christ, Jesus.
Sure, there wasn't a reward at the end of my run. But the reminder that once I've finished pounding out the steps, wishing it was over; I have rest for my weary legs.

This morning was Marathon Sunday.
You draw the parallels. I know you can find them.

May 3, 2005

I wasn't really sure who to write this to. But I had to write something. Let something out, because sometimes you just need somebody to talk to. And there's not really anybody sometimes.
And there's this song that we sang senior year. Half-time, I mean. It was

I love you, Lord, and I lift my voice to worship you
O my soul, rejoice!
Take joy, my king, in what you hear.
May it be a sweet sweet sound in your ear.
My prayer, dear Lord, is that I may be a brighter light so they see you in me.
When I grow weak to the Devil's charms, shelter me in the strength of your arms.
I'm coming, God, when your trumpet calls, to live with you where no
tears will fall.
Until that day, keep my eyes on Thee, so with the angels I'll sing eternally.
In Jesus' precious name, Amen!

And I was thinking about Katie. Because she sang it, too. And then I
thought about the words. And how easy it is to sing notes, and
harmonies.
But what I guess I didn't realize is that God heard her.
He heard her say "I'm coming, God, to live with you"
and he called her.

How unprepared can I be? I sang that song for a whole year, and thought I was praying to God the whole time, but I can't imagine myself still singing that prayer if he actually called.
Do you think she knew what she was asking?
Do you think that's why she was such a bright light even when we were all in pain for her? Because she knew that it wasn't just a song?
And she knew that God was going to really actually hold her to the words of her prayer--and she was ready for it?
She's obviously singing with the angels, and there's clearly no tears where she is. But then why is praying that prayer and meaning it so scary to me?
Am I not trusting in God enough?
How can I let go of things I have here so I won't be so scared of saying prayers like that
and actually meaning them?
Saying "just give it to God" is much much easier said than done.
At what point are you actually putting your life into God's hands, in contrast to just letting go of responsibilities and being a chump?
Because I feel like I need to make sure that things I do are for the
glory of God, but how do you justify it?
What's even the difference between justifying actions, and squeezing God into your decisions? I can't stop making decisions about school and jobs just because "if God wants it to happen, it will happen anyway." That's not what he wants, is it?
So when I pray for God to guide me, and for my decisions and actions to be to his Glory--how do I know what to decide?
I don't know about you, but I've never seen any writing on a wall or had prophetic dreams.
I don't know if God wants me to stay here or move away.
I know that God is in charge.
And I know that he will provide.
But there are times when his idea of providing are completely different than mine, and it makes me afraid to even let him.
Everything I'm supposed to do is easier said than done.
So any advice on how to do it anyway?
Especially when the idea of his plan doesn't always seem like it's the greatest?

And that's where I am. And I'm feeling sortof stuck.

Before I started this blog, I wrote an e-mail to Patrick Mead because I had a lot on my mind and I had no one to talk to. Every once in a while I get to thinking about Katie Kirkpatrick. I'm sure anyone who knew her can relate to that. She just doesn't ever leave. The impact she made in 21 short years was deeper than many together can make in an entire string of lifetimes.
I was reminded of this e-mail today, and I wanted to share it. Because sometimes I just don't feel ready to answer God when he calls. And it's a reminder to me that if I ask for it, I'd better be ready for him to answer. Because he surely will.