Forget all that nonsense about aliens, demented scarecrows and other horrors lurking in cornfields. Our home is surrounded on three sides by this tall, leafy, green stuff and I can't say I've seen any evidence at all of these slinky, sneaky, vessels of evil. Not that I'm looking, mind you, or plan on conducting any type of nighttime investigations. My observations from my kitchen window in broad daylight is enough for me. No, I think too much emphasis has been placed on possible corn dwellers when there are horrible things that truly do exist in other vegetative forms............like beans. You read it right.....your everyday, home grown, jolly green giant endorsed green beans! Their beautiful rows (I love lines!!!!) look innocent enough... short, full and leafy; sprinkled with tiny, petite, lavender flowers; they're just adorable. However, readers, beware of the great evil that dwells in this mini paradise, this oasis of cute!
My story of survival begins not after the first bean harvest...but the third. If the frozen food section is the only place you're familiar with beans, that's ok, you must already know the danger of harvesting, so, a wise one you are! Green beans are a favorite among many gardeners because it's a great "big bang for your buck" kind of plant! After each pick.....they will continue to reproduce. On this particular evening, the family and I were out picking. I, in my flips (I was later scolded for this), the rest of the family in proper footwear.....tennies and garden clogs. Clouds of mosquitoes filled the air every time a bean plant was repositioned to expose beans ripe for the picking, so when I felt the nibble on the back of my leg, I assumed it was one of those pesky, sharp nosed critters. Cute, fuzzy, white caterpillars, bouncy grasshoppers, buzzing bees and little, green, hopping frogs were as abundant as the beans, so when my bucket was full, I was thrilled to end my visit to this world of creepy crawlies!
Later that evening, my bite started to glow, two days later, the glow turned to raised red blisters. After almost 2 weeks, the color purple and "yellow" (from the ooze!) were added to the mix. I despise doctors, so Kris humored me and let me try to "lick" my own wound. "Lick" meaning, doing absolutely nothing and hoping it would go away on its own. I don't do medicine well. When I complain of headaches, Kris will ask...."Take anything?" My response is usually always no. A resounding "Duh!" ends the conversation with me making my way to our medicine basket. With my bite fashioning colors of purple, yellow and red, no amount of sobbing, whining or crying would work against Kris' rock solid stance on me going to the place I dread the most....the doctor.
To the doctor I went, with my kids in tow for support. There's something exhilarating about the fact that I, little ol' me, could gross out nurses to the point of the"hibbie jibbies"......exact quote. My exam room was more like a pre-schools show and tell with both nurses on staff at my doctors office huddled around my leg; me proudly displaying my war wound and laughing at every "ick" and "nasty"! One of the nurses biggest fear, and Ryan's, was that there were babies or eggs of something in the red, nasty mess. A "Monsters Inside Me" show fresh in her mind, the nurse proceeded to give me all the gruesome details of maggot like creatures hiding in a wound bearing striking resemblance to mine. A friend of ours suggested I skip going to the doctors and go to the vet instead....so he can deliver the babies. Ok..this amoeba, maggot, worm talk was starting to gross me out and all these "implants" were making me feel as if....something truly WAS moving around inside my leg! The doctor finally came in, looked at it and reassured me.....and my roomful of grossed out comrades......that nothing was living inside and that whatever got me, apparently just got me good. My guess was as good as his on what on earth bit me and he proceeded to prescibe a steroid ointment. Leaving the office, I noticed curious stares from the adjoining office. Receptionists craning their necks over their desks and nurses peeking around corners all sneaking a peak to get a good look at this possible walking incubator. Giggling, one of my nurses called out "Tsetse" (a fly in Africa with parasites) while the other nurse handed me breathable bandages to assure the little ones nestled snugly in my wound wouldn't smother. Nice.
Curious, a friend of mine researched online the possible suspects of terror. Spiders were quickly ruled out, I only had one puncture wound. The list slowly dwindled down until only one suspect remained, the fluffy white cutie I saw in the garden. It's cuteness lures in its victim...as innocent as a wide eyed puppy, then WHAMO! With tiny hollow quills on their bodies connected to poison sacks*, it injects the "toxic" venom into its shocked prey leaving them looking like alien incubators for weeks to come.
You know, this cuddly caterpillar, reminds me so much of another enemy in my garden. Satan. The bible says in 1 Peter 5:8 to "Be sober (alert), be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour (consume)." In my garden, I should have been alert and vigilant to all the dangers that lay seemingly hidden and been prepared by wearing the proper foot gear; socks, tennies or garden clogs. In my life's garden, the protective clothing of daily meditation in God's word, prayer and regular church attendence can help guard my heart against Satan's stings and the spread of his deadly venom.
Our beans were ready for another picking. I bravely put on my husbands tube socks, a pair of old running shoes, took a deep breath and walked into caterpillar territory. During my picking, I found the rascal that wreaked so much havoc on my leg. My son did me a favor and established justice.....taking care of the culprit for all eternity....my hero! Romans 16:20 says, "And the God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet...." We can take comfort in knowing that God will take care of Satan for us for all of eternity someday. In the meantime, take safe guards in your life's garden and be sure to wear your "tube socks"!!
*"Stinging Caterpillars", by Deborah Tuka, Aug. 11, 2006, Farmers Almanac Blog
Friday, August 26, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The Traveler
Adjusting the heavy brown pack, he took one last look around his home and with a heavy heart, quietly shut the door behind him. Standing on the door step his feet seemed frozen. Unable....or unwilling to move. "How can I possibly go through with this?" he thought. Terror gripped at his chest. "I have no clue where I'm going!" And he truly didn't! Clutched in his hand was a piece of paper, his only compass of direction on which way to go. His stomach ached as he thought of leaving stability, comfort and routine behind. He had his instructions, he had no choice, they must be obeyed and followed. After a deep breath, and another backpack adjustment, he took his first step off the stoop and into blind obedience.
Consulting the paper in his hand, a hand drawn map, he easily found the path that would lead him on his journey. Pausing just long enough to tuck the map into his chest pocket, he looked down the path as far as his eyes could reach. Someone cared about this little road. Shaded and tree lined, the path had seemed well taken care of. The dirt was freshly grated and smooth and the walkway was free from any low lying branches. Butterflies fluttered amongst the wildflowers and birds swooped happily from tree to tree. "It seems pleasant enough." he thought and with that he put his foot on the walkway and on faith, his quest began.
How long this would take, he had no clue. The food he was instructed to pack gave no indication how long he would be gone. He noticed the map had at least 13 areas stamped with a monogram stamp. He had read in the orders that these places would be marked with a matching monogram and it was here that he would receive food, rest and extra supplies to carry him to the next stopping point.
The first days travel seemed easy enough. The weather was cool and the sun was bright in the cloudless blue sky. At various points he found signs of encouragement, promise and love nailed to the trees which stood along the path. This warmed him and he smiled to himself. From the lush, full branches of the trees towering above him, the birds sang beautiful choruses that soothed his homesick heart. As the sun slowly began to set, he noticed the trees along the pathway slowly begin to thin and an opening appeared ahead. A cottage sat nestled in the clearing. He checked the sign hanging beside the door to see if it matched the monogram on his map. It did. His first stopping point. He paused for a moment to put down his pack, he arched his back to stretch and quickly ran his fingers through his hair. He cleared his throat and knocked.
Waiting for the door to open, he had to chuckle at himself ...as if he needed to have his throat cleared to knock! The door soon opened, but there was no one there to greet him. With hesitation, he grabbed his pack, and slowly walked over the doors threshold. Immediately in front of him, through the dark gloom, he could see a table full of food. He looked around, waited a bit, and then decided it must be meant for him.....this was an appointed stop. He sat down and ate the food that was laid out for him. There was plenty, so following the orders on the map, he took the extra and packed it away in his pack. Full, he took the dishes to the kitchen and explored the little cottage. A room was fixed up for him. The covers were pulled back to a twin sized bed and its comfort beckoned him. He kicked off his hiking boots and exhausted he fell into bed. Sleep came quickly and he didn't move a muscle until the sun broke through the small window in the room announcing the arrival of morning.
He continued on his journey. Looking back as he walked, the cottage became smaller and smaller and eventually shrank out of sight. The path continued to be well manicured and groomed but he noticed, as his journey wore on, there seemed to be strategically placed rocks, twigs and branches in his way. With a watchful eye, he was able to avoid these obstacles but the extra vigilance fatigued him greatly. Weary, he stopped at the next rest area marked on the map. Same monogram, same small cottage and same greeting....by no one. The same pattern and the same scenario day in....day out. Travel and stop....travel and stop. More obstacles were laid before him.....sharp, stabbing thorns and long tangles of vines. He was so tired!
The next cottage on his course marked with the monogram, to his surprise, had an occupant and he was given a warm heartfelt welcome. Awaiting him was a roaring fire and a table laden with a delicious feast. The food was so satisfying and the company so refreshing, it pained him to have to leave!! The next cottage, however, was found to be quite the opposite. To his dismay, he found a meager amount of food at the table, the bed linens were dirty and worse of all......the occupants. They were there....they just wanted nothing to do with this weary traveler. He was heartbroken and disheartened.
The weather was getting colder. His muscles ached, his feet were blistered, his spirit battered. It had begun to rain and the sharp, nettles of rain stung his face and eyes. A light glowed in the distance and with heavy feet he stumbled towards the beacon. The last cottage on his map lay ahead. Tripping over his own tired feet, he fell with a loud thud against the front door of the cheery, brightly light home. Instantly, it seemed, the door opened as if he were expected and a furry of hands pulled the feeble stranger in to safety. Blurred figures stood over the weary traveler and immediately work was done. Warming, nursing wounds and ministering. The feast waiting for him left him full and satisfied. The fire was warm and inviting and the smiles and conversation of his hosts were as soothing and comforting as the fluffy, down bed that he slept in. At long last, the obedient weary traveler knew he had finished his quest. He had found a his place of rest and comfort. A place where the food was plentiful, the fires warm and the fellowship sweet.
What path are you traveling today? Our path, depicted in this story, was finding a new church home. Our search seemed long and unending. In our pathway, Satan laid traps for us using rocks, twigs and branches of "discouragement", "doubt" and "fear". The only way to overcome these traps were to closely follow our map. Following our map (God's word) and our instructions learned through prayer, we faithfully followed the path the Lord prepared for us. This journey was mentally exhausting and tough but through this experience, we learned that the Lord Jesus is ever present, He cares and loves us beyond measure and through Him all things are possible. Psalm 32:8 says, " I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye." Trust in Jesus....He will direct your path!
Consulting the paper in his hand, a hand drawn map, he easily found the path that would lead him on his journey. Pausing just long enough to tuck the map into his chest pocket, he looked down the path as far as his eyes could reach. Someone cared about this little road. Shaded and tree lined, the path had seemed well taken care of. The dirt was freshly grated and smooth and the walkway was free from any low lying branches. Butterflies fluttered amongst the wildflowers and birds swooped happily from tree to tree. "It seems pleasant enough." he thought and with that he put his foot on the walkway and on faith, his quest began.
How long this would take, he had no clue. The food he was instructed to pack gave no indication how long he would be gone. He noticed the map had at least 13 areas stamped with a monogram stamp. He had read in the orders that these places would be marked with a matching monogram and it was here that he would receive food, rest and extra supplies to carry him to the next stopping point.
The first days travel seemed easy enough. The weather was cool and the sun was bright in the cloudless blue sky. At various points he found signs of encouragement, promise and love nailed to the trees which stood along the path. This warmed him and he smiled to himself. From the lush, full branches of the trees towering above him, the birds sang beautiful choruses that soothed his homesick heart. As the sun slowly began to set, he noticed the trees along the pathway slowly begin to thin and an opening appeared ahead. A cottage sat nestled in the clearing. He checked the sign hanging beside the door to see if it matched the monogram on his map. It did. His first stopping point. He paused for a moment to put down his pack, he arched his back to stretch and quickly ran his fingers through his hair. He cleared his throat and knocked.
Waiting for the door to open, he had to chuckle at himself ...as if he needed to have his throat cleared to knock! The door soon opened, but there was no one there to greet him. With hesitation, he grabbed his pack, and slowly walked over the doors threshold. Immediately in front of him, through the dark gloom, he could see a table full of food. He looked around, waited a bit, and then decided it must be meant for him.....this was an appointed stop. He sat down and ate the food that was laid out for him. There was plenty, so following the orders on the map, he took the extra and packed it away in his pack. Full, he took the dishes to the kitchen and explored the little cottage. A room was fixed up for him. The covers were pulled back to a twin sized bed and its comfort beckoned him. He kicked off his hiking boots and exhausted he fell into bed. Sleep came quickly and he didn't move a muscle until the sun broke through the small window in the room announcing the arrival of morning.
He continued on his journey. Looking back as he walked, the cottage became smaller and smaller and eventually shrank out of sight. The path continued to be well manicured and groomed but he noticed, as his journey wore on, there seemed to be strategically placed rocks, twigs and branches in his way. With a watchful eye, he was able to avoid these obstacles but the extra vigilance fatigued him greatly. Weary, he stopped at the next rest area marked on the map. Same monogram, same small cottage and same greeting....by no one. The same pattern and the same scenario day in....day out. Travel and stop....travel and stop. More obstacles were laid before him.....sharp, stabbing thorns and long tangles of vines. He was so tired!
The next cottage on his course marked with the monogram, to his surprise, had an occupant and he was given a warm heartfelt welcome. Awaiting him was a roaring fire and a table laden with a delicious feast. The food was so satisfying and the company so refreshing, it pained him to have to leave!! The next cottage, however, was found to be quite the opposite. To his dismay, he found a meager amount of food at the table, the bed linens were dirty and worse of all......the occupants. They were there....they just wanted nothing to do with this weary traveler. He was heartbroken and disheartened.
The weather was getting colder. His muscles ached, his feet were blistered, his spirit battered. It had begun to rain and the sharp, nettles of rain stung his face and eyes. A light glowed in the distance and with heavy feet he stumbled towards the beacon. The last cottage on his map lay ahead. Tripping over his own tired feet, he fell with a loud thud against the front door of the cheery, brightly light home. Instantly, it seemed, the door opened as if he were expected and a furry of hands pulled the feeble stranger in to safety. Blurred figures stood over the weary traveler and immediately work was done. Warming, nursing wounds and ministering. The feast waiting for him left him full and satisfied. The fire was warm and inviting and the smiles and conversation of his hosts were as soothing and comforting as the fluffy, down bed that he slept in. At long last, the obedient weary traveler knew he had finished his quest. He had found a his place of rest and comfort. A place where the food was plentiful, the fires warm and the fellowship sweet.
What path are you traveling today? Our path, depicted in this story, was finding a new church home. Our search seemed long and unending. In our pathway, Satan laid traps for us using rocks, twigs and branches of "discouragement", "doubt" and "fear". The only way to overcome these traps were to closely follow our map. Following our map (God's word) and our instructions learned through prayer, we faithfully followed the path the Lord prepared for us. This journey was mentally exhausting and tough but through this experience, we learned that the Lord Jesus is ever present, He cares and loves us beyond measure and through Him all things are possible. Psalm 32:8 says, " I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye." Trust in Jesus....He will direct your path!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
A Spotlight on Grace
When it comes to bedtime....I have three rules. There were four, but I'm 42 and I decided that I'm a little old to be taking that running jump into bed as the light goes out. Dangerous for me....I'm getting more fragile these days and I could seriously sprain something and.....dangerous for Kris, seeing how his spot is on the outside of the bed and its getting harder to catapult over him. So, I tweaked my rules. Rule 1)No appendages of any kind may hang over the bed. Arm, leg, finger....nose....you get the point. Rule 2) I must be covered at all times with a sheet and/or blanket. If its 100 degrees in the house, it does not matter, this rule must be followed! Rule 3) The light must remain on until rules 1 and 2 are finished.
Once, I broke rule number 1, I woke with a start and shook Kris awake,"SOMETHING touched my arm!!" He answered with a groan, totally oblivious to the fact that I could have LOST my arm! Who knows what creature, monster or crazy person could be lurking beside the 6 inch space between the bed and the wall. As with Rule 2.....I figured if the creature, monster, crazy person were to try to take a bite out of me, my sheet or better yet blanket would provide a little bit of protection; making full penetration from sharp pointy teeth into my body less likely. Which leads me to rule 3. Kris THOROUGHLY enjoys teasing me by turning off the bedroom light well before I am ready. This always occurs during my journey from the bathroom, through the living room which lies just outside our bedroom. When this happens, Rule 4, that I scratched awhile ago.....becomes tempting. But breaking that rule requires swift and precise movement and the CMC (creature, monster, crazy person) could be anywhere....behind, beside or worse yet, in front of me. Falling STRAIGHT into the CMC's clutches there could surely be no escape, so, I now freeze. I don't move a muscle and a voice oozing with irritation, I start my countdown to three. This is when the chuckling starts and the remark, "What's gonna happen when you get to 3?" I usually do a foot stomp and my best hulk growl. Mercy prevails and the light snaps on revealing no CMC's in sight, just an annoying husband grinning from ear to ear.
Thank goodness for light! There's been a lot of people in my life who have been a light to me and some have gone the next step and shone a spotlight on my path revealing lessons never forgotten. One of the brightest lights I had ever seen was shone from my boss who has become a treasured friend! I clean her family's summer cottage and she emailed me one day to please wash her rugs. It was a long day for me. This cottage was my second house that I cleaned that day, I had the kids in tow and I was TIRED! I separated the rugs by color, washed the colored rugs separately and began my cleaning. The cleaning went without incident with the help of my boys vacuuming furniture, washing doors and windows and my daughter working along side me doing the rest of the cleaning. When the rugs were done, I put them on the counter to air dry....learned my lesson the last time....rugs can frey in the dryer. The white rugs.....yes....white...went in next. There must have been red die left in the washing machine drum when the rugs went in...because when they came out they were PINK! Kelsey discovered the disaster and when I saw the pink splotches on the once white rugs panic seized me! Not AGAIN! I felt incapable, irresponsible and just plain.....klutzy! I wanted to cry but composed myself in front of the kids. "We WILL solve this problem!", I said with determination. You have to realize that is very uncharacteristic of me. My first instinct is to panic and next.....panic again! (I guess I am learning some lessons from Home!!) The kids and I piled into the van and drove to the nearest Wal-Mart. I found the best replacement option for the rugs. I felt sick to my stomach when I did a quick tally of what my mishap would cost me. I made the decision to buy a rug....see if she liked it....and then offer to buy rugs every cleaning until they were all replaced.
I dreaded the email I would have to send! I did it and told her everything and apologized profusely and told her how awful I felt. With shaking hands, I pushed the send button and awaited my fate. Would I lose my job? Would she think I was as incapable, irresponsible and klutzy as I felt? The email that I received back shocked me and literally drove me to tears. No, I didn't lose my job, I didn't get yelled at or scolded. What I got....I did not deserve. I was told to not worry one more second about the rugs. That rugs are just that....rugs. They can be replaced. It's people and the ones we love that cannot. She took things a step further. She offered to take me out to lunch....at the restaurant of my choice; her treat. She wanted to be sure......I was ok. Me? The one who destroyed over $100 worth of rugs? I felt so undeserving, so unworthy of this mercy, this kindness.....this grace. It was then I saw the spotlight. Right in front of me, in the spotlights bright glow, I saw my Teacher, my Master, My King.....my Jesus. Seeing Jesus standing there in the spotlight, held by my friend....I was speechless. What my friend did for me, Jesus did for me. He died a horrible death on the cross for undeserving me. I broke His heart, scarred His back, and spit at him.....and yet He held out His hand to me, His heart and gave Himself up for me. Standing in front of Him, dirty, poor and pitiful...I have nothing to give. His smile says it all. Me.....all He wants is all of .....Me.
My friend and her spotlight, allowed me to see Jesus. A spotlight on grace and mercy...a reminder of what Jesus did for me....a lesson from Home I will never forget! <3
Once, I broke rule number 1, I woke with a start and shook Kris awake,"SOMETHING touched my arm!!" He answered with a groan, totally oblivious to the fact that I could have LOST my arm! Who knows what creature, monster or crazy person could be lurking beside the 6 inch space between the bed and the wall. As with Rule 2.....I figured if the creature, monster, crazy person were to try to take a bite out of me, my sheet or better yet blanket would provide a little bit of protection; making full penetration from sharp pointy teeth into my body less likely. Which leads me to rule 3. Kris THOROUGHLY enjoys teasing me by turning off the bedroom light well before I am ready. This always occurs during my journey from the bathroom, through the living room which lies just outside our bedroom. When this happens, Rule 4, that I scratched awhile ago.....becomes tempting. But breaking that rule requires swift and precise movement and the CMC (creature, monster, crazy person) could be anywhere....behind, beside or worse yet, in front of me. Falling STRAIGHT into the CMC's clutches there could surely be no escape, so, I now freeze. I don't move a muscle and a voice oozing with irritation, I start my countdown to three. This is when the chuckling starts and the remark, "What's gonna happen when you get to 3?" I usually do a foot stomp and my best hulk growl. Mercy prevails and the light snaps on revealing no CMC's in sight, just an annoying husband grinning from ear to ear.
Thank goodness for light! There's been a lot of people in my life who have been a light to me and some have gone the next step and shone a spotlight on my path revealing lessons never forgotten. One of the brightest lights I had ever seen was shone from my boss who has become a treasured friend! I clean her family's summer cottage and she emailed me one day to please wash her rugs. It was a long day for me. This cottage was my second house that I cleaned that day, I had the kids in tow and I was TIRED! I separated the rugs by color, washed the colored rugs separately and began my cleaning. The cleaning went without incident with the help of my boys vacuuming furniture, washing doors and windows and my daughter working along side me doing the rest of the cleaning. When the rugs were done, I put them on the counter to air dry....learned my lesson the last time....rugs can frey in the dryer. The white rugs.....yes....white...went in next. There must have been red die left in the washing machine drum when the rugs went in...because when they came out they were PINK! Kelsey discovered the disaster and when I saw the pink splotches on the once white rugs panic seized me! Not AGAIN! I felt incapable, irresponsible and just plain.....klutzy! I wanted to cry but composed myself in front of the kids. "We WILL solve this problem!", I said with determination. You have to realize that is very uncharacteristic of me. My first instinct is to panic and next.....panic again! (I guess I am learning some lessons from Home!!) The kids and I piled into the van and drove to the nearest Wal-Mart. I found the best replacement option for the rugs. I felt sick to my stomach when I did a quick tally of what my mishap would cost me. I made the decision to buy a rug....see if she liked it....and then offer to buy rugs every cleaning until they were all replaced.
I dreaded the email I would have to send! I did it and told her everything and apologized profusely and told her how awful I felt. With shaking hands, I pushed the send button and awaited my fate. Would I lose my job? Would she think I was as incapable, irresponsible and klutzy as I felt? The email that I received back shocked me and literally drove me to tears. No, I didn't lose my job, I didn't get yelled at or scolded. What I got....I did not deserve. I was told to not worry one more second about the rugs. That rugs are just that....rugs. They can be replaced. It's people and the ones we love that cannot. She took things a step further. She offered to take me out to lunch....at the restaurant of my choice; her treat. She wanted to be sure......I was ok. Me? The one who destroyed over $100 worth of rugs? I felt so undeserving, so unworthy of this mercy, this kindness.....this grace. It was then I saw the spotlight. Right in front of me, in the spotlights bright glow, I saw my Teacher, my Master, My King.....my Jesus. Seeing Jesus standing there in the spotlight, held by my friend....I was speechless. What my friend did for me, Jesus did for me. He died a horrible death on the cross for undeserving me. I broke His heart, scarred His back, and spit at him.....and yet He held out His hand to me, His heart and gave Himself up for me. Standing in front of Him, dirty, poor and pitiful...I have nothing to give. His smile says it all. Me.....all He wants is all of .....Me.
My friend and her spotlight, allowed me to see Jesus. A spotlight on grace and mercy...a reminder of what Jesus did for me....a lesson from Home I will never forget! <3
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Mornin' Run!
Yeah, I run. But before I say anymore....you need to picture me on one of my runs....so let me paint one for you. Running, I'm as graceful as a gazelle. Long stride, great form. My beautifully curled blond hair is pulled back into a neat pigtail and it bounces happily off the back of my 5'9" frame. I don't sweat, I glow.....no need for makeup here....I glow!
Ok.........scratch all that and picture the real me! 5'4", short and stubby dutch girl, gasping for breath, red as a beet....sweating profusely. I don't know what my stride or form looks like....but I can guess....it's not very gazelle like. More like galloping mama bear! The blond part is right, though, minus the neat pigtail....more like tucked into a once white Nike hat. Now that you have the real me pictured, you know I am not one of "those"runners. My husband falls into that category. You know, the crazies who run marathons and love it. Who go out and do 11 miles and grin from ear to ear and can't wait to tackle it again. No, I do my 2 1/2 miles and that's marathon enough for me!
So, why do I run? I don't know......its the challenge, I guess. My route that I run has three different
stretches. The "Flat and Boring: I'm Never Gonna Get There" the "The Hill of Death" and the "Bridge of Beauty". At the beginning of my run.....I know whats coming and I prepare. So, for the "Flat and Boring" I'm armed with my M-p3 player full of inspirational running music my daughter loaded up for me...."Red", "Skillet".....you get the picture! The "Bridge of Beauty" is in the middle of my run. A beautiful bridge over a rushing creek, shaded by oak trees. This is one of my reward spots. I stop here for a breather on the way back from my halfway point, "The Hill of Death". The "Hill" is just that and it kills me every time. To get through this challenge, I push and remember...the way down is cake and the icing? A cute little mini-horse, I named Merry is waiting for me! Merry is really a boy but I can see him with little ribbons and bells braided into his mane! Awwww, cute, huh? After Merry, the run starts all over again...in reverse!
Coming back from "The Hill of Death" and blowing Merry a kiss, my run begins to remind me of something different. My life mirrors my runs! It's got all three elements. The "Boring", the "Beauty" (rest spots), and the "Hill" (my challenges). With my runs, I have the right shoes, comfy clothes and my Mp3 player. With my spiritual walk I need the right gear......daily devotions, prayer and Sunday worship. The boring? We all got those times. Those times where nothing happens, the routine, the everyday. That's the toughest part of my run. It's lonely.....it goes on and on and it feels as though I'm spinning my wheels and not getting anywhere. Sometimes life can feel like that. We can be prepared for that stretch of our lives too. Like my M-p3 player keeps me company, our Lord and Saviour wants to be part of our everyday. Which lead to the "Hill"...the rough spots of our lives where most of us wait to call upon our Lord. During the everyday....we feel we don't need Him....but that is so wrong! We need Him in the everyday....building that relationship with Him so when the Hill hits, the climb won't kill us. I found on my run that once I got up that hill.....I DID IT! The excitement and the joy made the struggle so worth it! The run down seemed so effortless and fun! Isn't that how it is when we tackle our Hill? Basking in the joy of a job well done with our Master carrying us downhill to rest at the "Bridge of Beauty", the spot of refection, remembrance and worship.
So, again, why do I run? Maybe it's for the reminder of my need for my Saviour 24/7 ...in all three phases of my run; on the road .....and in my life. Hebrews 12:1 and 2 reminds us ".....let us run with patience the race that is set before us. Looking on to Jesus the author and finisher of our faith...." Whether you run like a gazelle or a clumsy mama bear.....run your race!
Ok.........scratch all that and picture the real me! 5'4", short and stubby dutch girl, gasping for breath, red as a beet....sweating profusely. I don't know what my stride or form looks like....but I can guess....it's not very gazelle like. More like galloping mama bear! The blond part is right, though, minus the neat pigtail....more like tucked into a once white Nike hat. Now that you have the real me pictured, you know I am not one of "those"runners. My husband falls into that category. You know, the crazies who run marathons and love it. Who go out and do 11 miles and grin from ear to ear and can't wait to tackle it again. No, I do my 2 1/2 miles and that's marathon enough for me!
So, why do I run? I don't know......its the challenge, I guess. My route that I run has three different
stretches. The "Flat and Boring: I'm Never Gonna Get There" the "The Hill of Death" and the "Bridge of Beauty". At the beginning of my run.....I know whats coming and I prepare. So, for the "Flat and Boring" I'm armed with my M-p3 player full of inspirational running music my daughter loaded up for me...."Red", "Skillet".....you get the picture! The "Bridge of Beauty" is in the middle of my run. A beautiful bridge over a rushing creek, shaded by oak trees. This is one of my reward spots. I stop here for a breather on the way back from my halfway point, "The Hill of Death". The "Hill" is just that and it kills me every time. To get through this challenge, I push and remember...the way down is cake and the icing? A cute little mini-horse, I named Merry is waiting for me! Merry is really a boy but I can see him with little ribbons and bells braided into his mane! Awwww, cute, huh? After Merry, the run starts all over again...in reverse!
Coming back from "The Hill of Death" and blowing Merry a kiss, my run begins to remind me of something different. My life mirrors my runs! It's got all three elements. The "Boring", the "Beauty" (rest spots), and the "Hill" (my challenges). With my runs, I have the right shoes, comfy clothes and my Mp3 player. With my spiritual walk I need the right gear......daily devotions, prayer and Sunday worship. The boring? We all got those times. Those times where nothing happens, the routine, the everyday. That's the toughest part of my run. It's lonely.....it goes on and on and it feels as though I'm spinning my wheels and not getting anywhere. Sometimes life can feel like that. We can be prepared for that stretch of our lives too. Like my M-p3 player keeps me company, our Lord and Saviour wants to be part of our everyday. Which lead to the "Hill"...the rough spots of our lives where most of us wait to call upon our Lord. During the everyday....we feel we don't need Him....but that is so wrong! We need Him in the everyday....building that relationship with Him so when the Hill hits, the climb won't kill us. I found on my run that once I got up that hill.....I DID IT! The excitement and the joy made the struggle so worth it! The run down seemed so effortless and fun! Isn't that how it is when we tackle our Hill? Basking in the joy of a job well done with our Master carrying us downhill to rest at the "Bridge of Beauty", the spot of refection, remembrance and worship.
So, again, why do I run? Maybe it's for the reminder of my need for my Saviour 24/7 ...in all three phases of my run; on the road .....and in my life. Hebrews 12:1 and 2 reminds us ".....let us run with patience the race that is set before us. Looking on to Jesus the author and finisher of our faith...." Whether you run like a gazelle or a clumsy mama bear.....run your race!
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