As 2011 comes to a close, I am quickly realizing that I am a bit anxious about what the new year may have in store. It has been such an amazing year, full of healing, new adventures, goals being met, restoring relationships, forming new ones and learning to actually walk with the Lord instead of bumping into Him every now and again.
As I ponder the possibilities, as I know I shouldn't, I can't help but find myself playing the "what if" game. What if all that we've accomplished falls apart? What if my faith gets raddled again? Will I be able to stand firm? Is all this too good to be true? Where do we (me, my Abba, my husband, my family) go from here? So easily after all that God has proven to me, I fear falling backwards instead of moving forward. I'm sure it is an attack from my enemy and I know I must fight with strength and endurance and fight I will...I just do not want to screw up.
Into the unknown, I will set sail, with the knowledge that no matter what, my Abba loves me. I pray I am found faithful, loyal, and always running towards the heart of God.
So in closing, I pray a wonderful new year full of blessings be bestowed upon all of you! May the Lord's face shine upon you.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Forgive as I have been forgiven
taken from John 8: 1-11...translation my own
"Her arms grabbed at fabric to best conceal her naked body as the men brought her into the street. Shouting out to the towns people that they had an adultress caught in the act. A crowd gathered and began picking up the largest stones they could find. Forming a circle to commense the beating, they threw her at Jesus's feet. Lying in the dirt, head down, heart pounding, body shaking in fear, she knew what she deserved and did not put up a fight.
Ever so calmly, Jesus knelt down to her level and began to write in the sand. All those around just stood in silence, waiting to see what the man, who claimed to be the son of God, would do. Their law said they were completely justified in hurling bolders at her until one cracked her skull causing death, but then He spoke. "You who are without sin cast the first stone." Perplexed and bewildered, the crowd was taken a back. Their sins crept into their memory as the rocks in their hands grew heavy and eventually slipped out of their fingers. With guilt weighing heavily on their shoulders, they dispersed and left Jesus alone with the woman.
She had not realized she was holding her breath until it escaped her body in a loud huff. The loud ringing in her ears grew silent as she found the strength to look into the eyes of the man that just saved her life. "Does no one condemn you?" Tears rolling down her dirty checks, she replied, "No one, sir." "Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declares. "Go now and leave your life of sin." Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and pointed her in the dirction she should go."
I have been where the crowd stood on many occasions; only the one thrown in front of Jesus had commited the sin against me. I was not just an on looker of a sinner, ready to judge. I was beaten and wounded by the one at His feet waiting on His judgement. Unfortunately, even with Jesus's strong words hanging in the air, my stone was hurled with a mighty and ugly force. And Christ would just look at me and repeat them again, "Joy! Are you without sin? Can you justly throw that stone?" My case, I would argue, my bruises I would show, and my fear I would spill out...and often I still do. But somehow my Abba allows me to see myself as the woman, guilty as charged and begins to soften my heart towards my offender, showing me I am no different than they, but am given mercy and grace everytime I fall short. Such love he has for me to continue to want to mold me, not leaving me as I am, so that I too can forgive as I have been forgiven.
"Her arms grabbed at fabric to best conceal her naked body as the men brought her into the street. Shouting out to the towns people that they had an adultress caught in the act. A crowd gathered and began picking up the largest stones they could find. Forming a circle to commense the beating, they threw her at Jesus's feet. Lying in the dirt, head down, heart pounding, body shaking in fear, she knew what she deserved and did not put up a fight.
Ever so calmly, Jesus knelt down to her level and began to write in the sand. All those around just stood in silence, waiting to see what the man, who claimed to be the son of God, would do. Their law said they were completely justified in hurling bolders at her until one cracked her skull causing death, but then He spoke. "You who are without sin cast the first stone." Perplexed and bewildered, the crowd was taken a back. Their sins crept into their memory as the rocks in their hands grew heavy and eventually slipped out of their fingers. With guilt weighing heavily on their shoulders, they dispersed and left Jesus alone with the woman.
She had not realized she was holding her breath until it escaped her body in a loud huff. The loud ringing in her ears grew silent as she found the strength to look into the eyes of the man that just saved her life. "Does no one condemn you?" Tears rolling down her dirty checks, she replied, "No one, sir." "Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declares. "Go now and leave your life of sin." Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and pointed her in the dirction she should go."
I have been where the crowd stood on many occasions; only the one thrown in front of Jesus had commited the sin against me. I was not just an on looker of a sinner, ready to judge. I was beaten and wounded by the one at His feet waiting on His judgement. Unfortunately, even with Jesus's strong words hanging in the air, my stone was hurled with a mighty and ugly force. And Christ would just look at me and repeat them again, "Joy! Are you without sin? Can you justly throw that stone?" My case, I would argue, my bruises I would show, and my fear I would spill out...and often I still do. But somehow my Abba allows me to see myself as the woman, guilty as charged and begins to soften my heart towards my offender, showing me I am no different than they, but am given mercy and grace everytime I fall short. Such love he has for me to continue to want to mold me, not leaving me as I am, so that I too can forgive as I have been forgiven.
Monday, December 12, 2011
A Sacrifice in His Birth
26 In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, 27 to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
29 Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 30 But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. 31You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”
34 “How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”
35 The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called[a] the Son of God. 36 Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. 37 For no word from God will ever fail.”
38 “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” Then the angel left her. (Luke 1: 26-38)
This Christmas season has me more drawn to the birth of Christ, I am sad to say, than any years before and more so, with this passage in particular. We often concentrate on Mary and commend her response to the Lord as she takes on this amazingly huge responsibility. The possiblities are endless as to what could happen to her as an unwed pregnant young girl who is engaged but nevertheless, she seems honored to be given this cup to drink. But I ask, if only for a moment, to look at the supernatural and the possibilities that could have taken place in the heavens at this very same moment. I see it happening something like this:
"Gabrial's words to Mary echoed through the heavens as the most crucial of conversations between man and angel occured. What would Mary say? How would this young woman react? The Holy Trinity already knew the outcome as the angels hung on every word. The Father, looking over at the Son, can already feel His heart being pulled as the seperation will soon occur. "Are you ready, Son?" With a smile and a nod, the Christ answered the Father. With his large, gentle hand, The Father reaches over and pulls the Son in for one last tangible hug before The Son leaves his right side for the very first time. The Son is about to enter into the world through the womb of a virgin. He is about to leave the throne of His Kingdom to be born to the very poor family of a carpanter. His head will rest upon hay in his first days and will be crowned in thorns during his last. His earthly mother will craddle him as he enters her world as well as when he leaves it. He will experience every emotion, every temptation, every fear and every feeling that comes with being sinned against, and yet He still agrees to come....He still agrees to come.
And then Mary speaks, "May your word to me be fullfilled." And like that... It's done. The Son has left. He is now Son and man. The angels rour with rejoicing and The Father leaps with glee. The world is being reconciled to Him. "
So during the season of Advent, as we prepare for the coming of the Lord, let us be gracious for his sacrifice, even at his birth. What an amazing God we serve!
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Monday, November 28, 2011
Who are you?
So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. 26 Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.”
But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
27 The man asked him, “What is your name?”
“Jacob,” he answered. (Genesis 32: 24-27)
I have read this story often and always thought it amazing that God gave Jacob such an experience but as I was asked to look deeper into the story (by God via a book I am reading), tears overwhelmed me at the question the Lord asks Jacob. "What is your name?" Who are you? Are you what I intended you to be? As I squirmed in my chair, not really wanting to reply, I wonder if Jacob felt the same way. My answer went something like this. "I am Joy and no, I am not who you intended for me to be. I have grabbed hold of world's ways instead of finding my identity in you. I am angry and bitter and unhappy in my circumstance. I have been betrayed and unforgiving. I am fearful of becoming vulnerable and have not trusted you with my whole heart." The answer given here was not always given all at once, or the same things everytime (depending on what my trial was at the time) but none the less it is often the answer that the mirror shows.
Thankfully, The Lord, my Abba, the lover of my soul did not let go of me, nor will He ever, without giving a blessing upon my head, a new piece of truth that shows me that my name is changed. I am no longer Joy the betrayed, the angry, the daughter of sin but instead JOY, the daughter of the Savior, the beautiful, the forgiven, the lovely, the one made perfect through the love of Christ. The Lord always finds me as perfect as I sit at His feet. It is in my forgetting that He has to remind me and He never seems to grow tired of doing so.
Who are you? Continue to wrestle with Him as Jacob did, never letting go until He delivers you into a new name. A name that reflects your true identity in Him. He loves you. He is not angry with you and He will never leave nor forsake you.
But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
27 The man asked him, “What is your name?”
“Jacob,” he answered. (Genesis 32: 24-27)
I have read this story often and always thought it amazing that God gave Jacob such an experience but as I was asked to look deeper into the story (by God via a book I am reading), tears overwhelmed me at the question the Lord asks Jacob. "What is your name?" Who are you? Are you what I intended you to be? As I squirmed in my chair, not really wanting to reply, I wonder if Jacob felt the same way. My answer went something like this. "I am Joy and no, I am not who you intended for me to be. I have grabbed hold of world's ways instead of finding my identity in you. I am angry and bitter and unhappy in my circumstance. I have been betrayed and unforgiving. I am fearful of becoming vulnerable and have not trusted you with my whole heart." The answer given here was not always given all at once, or the same things everytime (depending on what my trial was at the time) but none the less it is often the answer that the mirror shows.
Thankfully, The Lord, my Abba, the lover of my soul did not let go of me, nor will He ever, without giving a blessing upon my head, a new piece of truth that shows me that my name is changed. I am no longer Joy the betrayed, the angry, the daughter of sin but instead JOY, the daughter of the Savior, the beautiful, the forgiven, the lovely, the one made perfect through the love of Christ. The Lord always finds me as perfect as I sit at His feet. It is in my forgetting that He has to remind me and He never seems to grow tired of doing so.
Who are you? Continue to wrestle with Him as Jacob did, never letting go until He delivers you into a new name. A name that reflects your true identity in Him. He loves you. He is not angry with you and He will never leave nor forsake you.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Being Exposed
"A woman who had suffered a condition of hemorrhaging for twelve years—a long succession of physicians had treated her, and treated her badly, taking all her money and leaving her worse off than before—had heard about Jesus. She slipped in from behind and touched his robe. She was thinking to herself, "If I can put a finger on his robe, I can get well." The moment she did it, the flow of blood dried up. She could feel the change and knew her plague was over and done with.
At the same moment, Jesus felt energy discharging from him. He turned around to the crowd and asked, "Who touched my robe?"
His disciples said, "What are you talking about? With this crowd pushing and jostling you, you're asking, 'Who touched me?' Dozens have touched you!"
But he went on asking, looking around to see who had done it. The woman, knowing what had happened, knowing she was the one, stepped up in fear and trembling, knelt before him, and gave him the whole story.
Jesus said to her, "Daughter, you took a risk of faith, and now you're healed and whole. Live well, live blessed! Be healed of your plague." (Mark 5: 25-34)
There is something about this story that grips me to my core. Everytime I read it, or hear it, a lump developes in my throut that is tough to swallow down. It's in the Lord's asking, "Who touched me?" This woman, who has tried to remain hidden, find healing in the shadows of a crowd, is about to be exposed. I imagine that she went into the crowd on her knees, crawling in the dirt, trying to be as tiny as possible because that was the way she felt within...unclean, unworthy, filthy even to the core, but upon recieving what she had put all her faith in by just reaching out and touching the hem of his cloak, I imagine her springing to her feet, relieved, thankful, and whole. But as soon as Christ asked, "Who touched me?" I can almost hear her heart pounding through the pages and the worried thoughts running through her mind, "What will the crowd think of me if they find out what I was? What will they do to me? Is this my consequence for trying to sneak a blessing?"
I suppose it grabs me so because I too have faced exposure on several accounts. Some the Lord prepared me for and others were brought on like this bleeding woman in the story...just a face in the crowd of a congregation, listening to the word of the Lord, recieving healing in secret there in my chair only for the Lord to have my Bishop point to me and ask me to come and kneel to reveal my pain and afflictions to him and others standing around. I have had those thoughts of worry and feelings of faintedness as I would confess who I "really" was. I had wondered how I would be judged and if others could find something to love after knowing the truth or if one by one they would gather up their stones. Scary as it was, I stepped out on faith and shared my story. I wish I could say that all of those who heard acted according the Christ's word, but the truth is that some did pick up their stones, some acted like I did have the plague, and through the love of Jesus, some are my closest friends today. Regardless of the friendships I lost or gained, what mattered more to me on the days of my exposure was that my faith healed me. I walked away clean, restored, and renewed in Christ Jesus.
We often fear the judging of others more than we want to recieve healing, so we remain hidden. It's time we just reach out on faith and grab onto the hem of Jesus's cloak. Our reward will be greater than anything we can ever imagine.
At the same moment, Jesus felt energy discharging from him. He turned around to the crowd and asked, "Who touched my robe?"
His disciples said, "What are you talking about? With this crowd pushing and jostling you, you're asking, 'Who touched me?' Dozens have touched you!"
But he went on asking, looking around to see who had done it. The woman, knowing what had happened, knowing she was the one, stepped up in fear and trembling, knelt before him, and gave him the whole story.
Jesus said to her, "Daughter, you took a risk of faith, and now you're healed and whole. Live well, live blessed! Be healed of your plague." (Mark 5: 25-34)
There is something about this story that grips me to my core. Everytime I read it, or hear it, a lump developes in my throut that is tough to swallow down. It's in the Lord's asking, "Who touched me?" This woman, who has tried to remain hidden, find healing in the shadows of a crowd, is about to be exposed. I imagine that she went into the crowd on her knees, crawling in the dirt, trying to be as tiny as possible because that was the way she felt within...unclean, unworthy, filthy even to the core, but upon recieving what she had put all her faith in by just reaching out and touching the hem of his cloak, I imagine her springing to her feet, relieved, thankful, and whole. But as soon as Christ asked, "Who touched me?" I can almost hear her heart pounding through the pages and the worried thoughts running through her mind, "What will the crowd think of me if they find out what I was? What will they do to me? Is this my consequence for trying to sneak a blessing?"
I suppose it grabs me so because I too have faced exposure on several accounts. Some the Lord prepared me for and others were brought on like this bleeding woman in the story...just a face in the crowd of a congregation, listening to the word of the Lord, recieving healing in secret there in my chair only for the Lord to have my Bishop point to me and ask me to come and kneel to reveal my pain and afflictions to him and others standing around. I have had those thoughts of worry and feelings of faintedness as I would confess who I "really" was. I had wondered how I would be judged and if others could find something to love after knowing the truth or if one by one they would gather up their stones. Scary as it was, I stepped out on faith and shared my story. I wish I could say that all of those who heard acted according the Christ's word, but the truth is that some did pick up their stones, some acted like I did have the plague, and through the love of Jesus, some are my closest friends today. Regardless of the friendships I lost or gained, what mattered more to me on the days of my exposure was that my faith healed me. I walked away clean, restored, and renewed in Christ Jesus.
We often fear the judging of others more than we want to recieve healing, so we remain hidden. It's time we just reach out on faith and grab onto the hem of Jesus's cloak. Our reward will be greater than anything we can ever imagine.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
The Beast that is a Marathon
Every thing that could have gone hay wire did just that. We had prepped and planned for 5 months straight to run this marathon but nothing could have prepared us for what we were about to experience.
First what should have been a nice scenic 4 hour drive to our hotel turned into a total of 10 hours before we actually reached our hotel. The details include sitting in traffic for an hour and a half in Forsyth due to road workers sitting around chatting and laughing at us travelers as we crept by. (No one knows for sure what they were SUPPOSED to be doing besides causing lots of road rage.) Once we finally got past all that mess and hurried down to our hotel's exit, we decided to just go straight on to the Savannah Convention Center to pick up our packets. Apparently the beautiful city of Savannah thought it would be a fun little practical joke to play on all us 23,000 runners to have us pick up our packets in a place that was built on an island, meaning only one way on and on way off by means of a 2 lane bridge. Needless to say, more traffic, more stress (the packet pick up would be closing soon) and wondering if a bridge can hold that many passangers is not a nice thought to have as you feel it's bouncing movement. Oh, did I mention our gas light was blinding us with a beaming reminder that it's almost empty, but we finally made it.
After receiving our packets and being shoved out of the expo by the venders who were ready to go home, we headed back to our cars, which were parked what felt like 2 miles away when you are walking around in 4 inch heels (a decision I deeply regretted once the hike started.) We had worked up quite an appetite after all the walking and stress, so we chose a place to grab a bite. Andi, Christi, and I each got in our individual cars with our wonderful husbands that we so loveingly dragged along and headed out. The restaurant we picked was right in front of our hotel. After finding a gas station, Andi texted me saying she wanted to check into the hotel first so we all agreed. Her and Sean reached the hotel first to which we soon found out that they were not at the same Fairfield Inn that Christi and I were at. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! After the fire from our ears turned to smoke, we still decided to eat at the place in front of mine and Christi's hotel. We were able to find a few laughs in the highly stressful day and made plans on how to meet in the morning and went our seperate ways to try and get some sleep.
The following morning, I woke up in a panic; looked at the clock to realize I had slept in 30 minutes past the time I was suppose to get up. After getting ready in a hurry, braiding Christi's hair, her braiding mine and poor Andi waiting as patiently as an angel, we got in the car to head to the Savannah mall where the shuttle bus was to pick us up and take us to the start line. Oooooffffff course we sat in traffic on our way there and quickly discovered once we pulled into the parking lot that EVERYONE else thought this would be the quickest way to get to the race as well. The lines (and yes I mean lineS, there were about 10 in all) to get on the buses where each at least 100 yards long. The gun shot for the race to start would be resounding in about 45 minutes and we saw no way that we would make it on time. You could hear the anger and frustration in the voices around us. This was not well thought out by the city of Savannah. Finally someone called in all the buses and shuttles the city had and we were able to make it on one...an open air one...with plastic covering the windows...in 32 degree weather...we were FREEZING!!!
Arriving to the start line 32 mins late, we were finally on our way. Aaahhh, we made it. Time to relax...I mean race. We past miles 1-5 in a hurry, shuffling through the massive crowds, trying to stay together and then something happened. A water station appeared and we all made our way to it, fighting to get water and when Christi and I turned around to look for Andi, we had lost her. Where did she go? On we ran, looking through the runners trying to find her but she was no where in sight. We hoped she had taken off to meet her goal of finishing the race an hour faster than us and so we didn't worry too much. We later found out that she too, got water, looked around and couldn't find us. The crowds had swept us apart like a vicious tide and we just had to go with it.
As the miles went on, we enjoyed some beautiful scenery and some not so beautiful (i.e. 6 miles of the 516 interstate) but the coolest thing ever was meeting an angel. No, I was not delusional; then again, maybe I was. It was about mile 20. My knees where killing me and Christi suggested that I stop at the medic station right in front of us and get some pain medicine. I waved her off and decided to just push through and keep going. Not ten feet up, we came up on a woman who turned to me and said, "Do you need some Advil?" "No, thank you," I replied, "I can't take anything like that without water. "I have water too," she said as she pulled out a bottle from her fanny pack. "Oh! Ok, I suppose I will then." I took the medicine from her hand and drank some of her water. "Now, here are some cookies. You can't take that medicine without any food." she said as she handed me a handful of animal crackers. "Is this your first marathon?" she asked. "Yes ma'am, it is." I answered. "This is my 117th. Believe me, you girls look much more impressive than I did on my first one." And with that she was off, disappearing in the distance, leaving me and Christi in bewilderment. It was totally AWESOME!!! We were so close to the end and Christi was so strong for me as I wanted to just give up and walk. She kept me moving and motivated. The thought that Andi waiting on us kept my legs moving as well. I wanted to make her proud.
Andi, in her long legged glory finished the race 50 minutes before we reached the finish line. We had prayed for her along the way and glory be to God, she sustained no injuries (which she was afraid she would) and stayed strong through the whole thing. We were so happy for her and it was great to see her again after our sprinting finish into the arms of our supportive husbands who carried signs and cheered us on.
WE HAD ALL JUST FINISHED A MARATHON!!! It was the craziest ride but will be some of my most favorite memories.
First what should have been a nice scenic 4 hour drive to our hotel turned into a total of 10 hours before we actually reached our hotel. The details include sitting in traffic for an hour and a half in Forsyth due to road workers sitting around chatting and laughing at us travelers as we crept by. (No one knows for sure what they were SUPPOSED to be doing besides causing lots of road rage.) Once we finally got past all that mess and hurried down to our hotel's exit, we decided to just go straight on to the Savannah Convention Center to pick up our packets. Apparently the beautiful city of Savannah thought it would be a fun little practical joke to play on all us 23,000 runners to have us pick up our packets in a place that was built on an island, meaning only one way on and on way off by means of a 2 lane bridge. Needless to say, more traffic, more stress (the packet pick up would be closing soon) and wondering if a bridge can hold that many passangers is not a nice thought to have as you feel it's bouncing movement. Oh, did I mention our gas light was blinding us with a beaming reminder that it's almost empty, but we finally made it.
After receiving our packets and being shoved out of the expo by the venders who were ready to go home, we headed back to our cars, which were parked what felt like 2 miles away when you are walking around in 4 inch heels (a decision I deeply regretted once the hike started.) We had worked up quite an appetite after all the walking and stress, so we chose a place to grab a bite. Andi, Christi, and I each got in our individual cars with our wonderful husbands that we so loveingly dragged along and headed out. The restaurant we picked was right in front of our hotel. After finding a gas station, Andi texted me saying she wanted to check into the hotel first so we all agreed. Her and Sean reached the hotel first to which we soon found out that they were not at the same Fairfield Inn that Christi and I were at. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! After the fire from our ears turned to smoke, we still decided to eat at the place in front of mine and Christi's hotel. We were able to find a few laughs in the highly stressful day and made plans on how to meet in the morning and went our seperate ways to try and get some sleep.
The following morning, I woke up in a panic; looked at the clock to realize I had slept in 30 minutes past the time I was suppose to get up. After getting ready in a hurry, braiding Christi's hair, her braiding mine and poor Andi waiting as patiently as an angel, we got in the car to head to the Savannah mall where the shuttle bus was to pick us up and take us to the start line. Oooooffffff course we sat in traffic on our way there and quickly discovered once we pulled into the parking lot that EVERYONE else thought this would be the quickest way to get to the race as well. The lines (and yes I mean lineS, there were about 10 in all) to get on the buses where each at least 100 yards long. The gun shot for the race to start would be resounding in about 45 minutes and we saw no way that we would make it on time. You could hear the anger and frustration in the voices around us. This was not well thought out by the city of Savannah. Finally someone called in all the buses and shuttles the city had and we were able to make it on one...an open air one...with plastic covering the windows...in 32 degree weather...we were FREEZING!!!
Arriving to the start line 32 mins late, we were finally on our way. Aaahhh, we made it. Time to relax...I mean race. We past miles 1-5 in a hurry, shuffling through the massive crowds, trying to stay together and then something happened. A water station appeared and we all made our way to it, fighting to get water and when Christi and I turned around to look for Andi, we had lost her. Where did she go? On we ran, looking through the runners trying to find her but she was no where in sight. We hoped she had taken off to meet her goal of finishing the race an hour faster than us and so we didn't worry too much. We later found out that she too, got water, looked around and couldn't find us. The crowds had swept us apart like a vicious tide and we just had to go with it.
As the miles went on, we enjoyed some beautiful scenery and some not so beautiful (i.e. 6 miles of the 516 interstate) but the coolest thing ever was meeting an angel. No, I was not delusional; then again, maybe I was. It was about mile 20. My knees where killing me and Christi suggested that I stop at the medic station right in front of us and get some pain medicine. I waved her off and decided to just push through and keep going. Not ten feet up, we came up on a woman who turned to me and said, "Do you need some Advil?" "No, thank you," I replied, "I can't take anything like that without water. "I have water too," she said as she pulled out a bottle from her fanny pack. "Oh! Ok, I suppose I will then." I took the medicine from her hand and drank some of her water. "Now, here are some cookies. You can't take that medicine without any food." she said as she handed me a handful of animal crackers. "Is this your first marathon?" she asked. "Yes ma'am, it is." I answered. "This is my 117th. Believe me, you girls look much more impressive than I did on my first one." And with that she was off, disappearing in the distance, leaving me and Christi in bewilderment. It was totally AWESOME!!! We were so close to the end and Christi was so strong for me as I wanted to just give up and walk. She kept me moving and motivated. The thought that Andi waiting on us kept my legs moving as well. I wanted to make her proud.
Andi, in her long legged glory finished the race 50 minutes before we reached the finish line. We had prayed for her along the way and glory be to God, she sustained no injuries (which she was afraid she would) and stayed strong through the whole thing. We were so happy for her and it was great to see her again after our sprinting finish into the arms of our supportive husbands who carried signs and cheered us on.
WE HAD ALL JUST FINISHED A MARATHON!!! It was the craziest ride but will be some of my most favorite memories.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
I am thankful
We sat on the porch of the house in Blairsville, enjoying the scenery of mountain tops covered in, what looked like, beautiful patchwork. The season is changing thus bringing alive the most brilliant of colors for us to admire. With nothing for us to do and no where for us to go, (just what we asked for by coming up here) our mouths did all the moving. As the hours went by, one by one, we all shared our stories of tragedy and triumph. The details of each were different, of course, but as the emotions flowed, I saw the common ground in which we all stood...thankful. Reliving some of our most painful memories, hot tears streaked our cheeks but this time, for me anyway, it was more out of joy than out of sorrow. It was with the ability to see with a God’s eye view. I had mourned for a great long while and thought I would never find a day where I would feel normal again but indeed it approached about two months ago and here I sat, able to tell my story in thankfulness...thankfulness...sorry, I have to say it again...thankfulness. It's very foreign to me that I could actually be thankful for the near death of my marriage but in reflecting on it, on that porch, with two of the most amazing women I have ever met, I could honestly say I was thankful. For that very reason, I was able to tell my story and remember my pain with gladness. In talking with my friends, I soon found out that they too were thankful for what they had gone through as well. It was the worst of times in our lives but, by choosing to walk with the Lord through it, we saw that it became the best of times. We crossed a line from understanding our Abba’s love for us to actually experiencing, feeling, knowing and growing in that love. I can honestly say that had it not been for my “near death experience”, I would not know the Lord like I do today. Had it not been for the tragedy that my marriage faced, I would not have the opportunity to invest in the lives of others the way God allows me to now and had it not been for walking in total darkness, I would have no clue what the ladies beside me had felt and my responses to them would be cold and rigid. I am thankful that my life fell apart two years ago. I am thankful my husband and I never gave up our fight. I am thankful God has fully restored us and I am thankful that He has made me thankful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)