I have a confession to make...My recent post about running, wasn't entirely about running. You see this whole summer while I was training, I kept thinking of spiritual parallels for my running endeavors. In Haiti, I was (and am) pretty stuborn. I don't like to "quit" or "slow down" or walk uphill. I'd rather run the whole time because I am after all on a run or as the Apostle Paul says in a race.
When Jenny told me I'd burn myself out if I ran up all the hills, I had flashbacks of myself in Haiti, scheduling up my free time and trying to go to every church service, youth group, prayer event, while teaching an english club for women and one for nurses...All this was my time off, and I wondered if Jenny's advice could apply even there.
On one of my favorite running routes, I start out going up the biggest hill of the course. Once at the top, I feel like a champ and know I can take the rest of the course just fine. But a lot of times when I run this course, I find myself on mile 5 with cramps in my legs and thoughts of quitting in my head.
The same thing happens when I start into a ministry. I want to do something awesome and huge right away so I can feel like a champ, but when I get to the end of my 11 month term, I have spiritual cramps and want to quit. What would it mean for me to take Jenny's advice, and walk uphill so I could make it to the end strong and steady?
"You have to eat and drink while you run," my little sister advised me as we talked about doubling my distance. It doesn't take much to make the connection between water and trail snacks to the Living Water and Bread of Life. If I run without water or a little snack, I can go pretty far (assuming I ate and drank enough before taking off), but if I eat and drink little bits while running, I can go further, many miles further.
I love this idea of refueling while running...A lot of times I'm great at preparing for ministry, reading the right books, listening to sermons, asking people to pray. And I'm pretty good at refueling afterwards, hiding out in my house, singing worship music, praying. But what would happen if in the midst of the ministry race I ate and drank the fuel I needed? How much further could I go?
Speaking of going further, there is an African proverb that says "If you want to go fast go alone. If you want to go far, go together." I've done a lot of running alone, and to be honest, I'm pretty good at it. I am self-disciplined and self-motivated. But it wasn't until my little sister ran with me and said, "You can go further than you think," that I really started to stretch myself as a runner...I went from a 6 or 7 mile personal record to 13 miles in just 3 months. Why?
My little sister didn't run with me every day. She didn't tell me what to do. She just encouraged me, and every once in a while ran beside me. There's something to be said for not doing it alone (it: running or life). And yes, sometimes it took a little longer for us to get going together than it would've taken alone (on the day of our big run Jenn waited 20 minutes for me to get out of bed), but in the end we both went further together.
How do I carry that concept of community into ministry? How do we carry that concept into life? Running beside those who are tired, encouraging those who are discouraged, teaching those who are stuck?
So I guess my recent post about running, wasn't really about running but it was all about running. I hope that I run the race well.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
The Bubba Run
My little sister, Jenn, says for every mile you run (in a long run) it takes your body 1 day to recover. That means my body will be back to normal in 13 days.
Jenn and I took off this morning at 6:20 with the goal of going on my longest run ever. Just 3 months ago my PR for distance was 6.1 miles, and running 13 miles sounded both overwhelming and ridiculous.
At about 4 miles my knees and hamstrings would start to ache a little and by 5 I would fix my thoughts on making it home.
But one day, Jenn and I decided to go for a run together. We talked as we ran, and when we reached the corner I normally take toward home, I turned to her and said, "Do you think we can go further?"
We did. We went about 8 miles that day. I felt awesome.
When we ran together, we did a couple of things differently than I had done them on my own. For one we carried water. "You lose so much water when you run," Jenn had told me. "If you want to go far you have to carry water."
Jenn, who had also completed a 35 mile in the race also confronted my stubborn insistence that we run uphill. "Sometimes you have to walk or you'll burn all your energy right away," she told me. I'm sure I rolled my eyes the first time I heard.
On her 35 mile run, Jenn and all the other runners stopped frequently at feeding stations to grab a fourth of a peanut butter sandwich, some fresh fruit, or crackers. When we ran, we reached into Jenn's pockets and pulled out gummy snacks and pretzels. These few calories gave us enough of a boost to add on the extra miles at the end.
After we finished our 8 mile run I had asked Jenn what she thought about running to Grove City, a town about 13 miles from our front door. Cooly, and with the confidence of a seasoned athlete she agreed to do the run some time this summer.
Running this course became one of my personal goals for the summer. So each week I ran 3, 6, 8, and 10 mile routes,paying attention to what foods fuel me up for a run and which foods I crave after running. I pushed myeself to run further faster and ran til my big toes got callouses.
After 3 months of mostly solo training, Jenn and I took on the bubba route this morning. Running along a country road past cornfields and cow pastures and to my dad's office, we pushed through butt cramps, aching ankles, and sore knees. And in just 2 hours and 38 minutes we had done it. Downing some water and stretching my calfs out on Dad's filing cabinet, I thought to myself, "I bet we could go further."
Jenn and I took off this morning at 6:20 with the goal of going on my longest run ever. Just 3 months ago my PR for distance was 6.1 miles, and running 13 miles sounded both overwhelming and ridiculous.
At about 4 miles my knees and hamstrings would start to ache a little and by 5 I would fix my thoughts on making it home.
But one day, Jenn and I decided to go for a run together. We talked as we ran, and when we reached the corner I normally take toward home, I turned to her and said, "Do you think we can go further?"
We did. We went about 8 miles that day. I felt awesome.
When we ran together, we did a couple of things differently than I had done them on my own. For one we carried water. "You lose so much water when you run," Jenn had told me. "If you want to go far you have to carry water."
Jenn, who had also completed a 35 mile in the race also confronted my stubborn insistence that we run uphill. "Sometimes you have to walk or you'll burn all your energy right away," she told me. I'm sure I rolled my eyes the first time I heard.
On her 35 mile run, Jenn and all the other runners stopped frequently at feeding stations to grab a fourth of a peanut butter sandwich, some fresh fruit, or crackers. When we ran, we reached into Jenn's pockets and pulled out gummy snacks and pretzels. These few calories gave us enough of a boost to add on the extra miles at the end.
After we finished our 8 mile run I had asked Jenn what she thought about running to Grove City, a town about 13 miles from our front door. Cooly, and with the confidence of a seasoned athlete she agreed to do the run some time this summer.
Running this course became one of my personal goals for the summer. So each week I ran 3, 6, 8, and 10 mile routes,paying attention to what foods fuel me up for a run and which foods I crave after running. I pushed myeself to run further faster and ran til my big toes got callouses.
After 3 months of mostly solo training, Jenn and I took on the bubba route this morning. Running along a country road past cornfields and cow pastures and to my dad's office, we pushed through butt cramps, aching ankles, and sore knees. And in just 2 hours and 38 minutes we had done it. Downing some water and stretching my calfs out on Dad's filing cabinet, I thought to myself, "I bet we could go further."
Monday, August 2, 2010
Overwhelming Generosity
This morning I went to the dentist again. This was my 6th visit to the doctor since I returned home last April. And this is the 6th time that my bill was generously and miraculously covered. You see my insurance in the US isn't great, so when I have to go to the doctor, I usually put it off and save up, then I go in and pray every procedure is simple and cheap.
But every time I have done this, someone else has insisted on covering the cost. It's humbling, overwhelming, surprising every time. To think that so many people would find me worthy of their generosity, and would invest in my health at their own personal expense makes no sense to me.
I cry every time it happens.
By this point, I estimate my summer medical bills somewhere between 1000 and 1500 dollars, all covered. And on top of that, I've had people do everything from treating me to coffee to buying me new clothes to helping with school loans. I wish I could say that I've kept tabs on it all and have a repayment plan all set up. I don't.
And maybe that's not the point. You see accepting generosity and grace isn't something that comes naturally to me. I come from a home of two hard-working parents who would help us kids when we needed it, but ultimately expected us to work for what we need.
So when I found myself in a position where I was working (as a missionary) but my work wouldn't cover my own need, I looked for ways to work more, earn more. Still what I could do on my own wasn't enough. No matter how hard I worked, I needed Grace.
The spiritual parallels are incredible. How silly of me to plan and strive and scheme and think I can do it on my own. And how tender, loving, and generous of God to raise up people to take care of my every need. Though I still wish I could pay for my own appointments, I appreciate the fact that each time I visit the doctor I'm overwhelmed again by the generosity of the cross.
But every time I have done this, someone else has insisted on covering the cost. It's humbling, overwhelming, surprising every time. To think that so many people would find me worthy of their generosity, and would invest in my health at their own personal expense makes no sense to me.
I cry every time it happens.
By this point, I estimate my summer medical bills somewhere between 1000 and 1500 dollars, all covered. And on top of that, I've had people do everything from treating me to coffee to buying me new clothes to helping with school loans. I wish I could say that I've kept tabs on it all and have a repayment plan all set up. I don't.
And maybe that's not the point. You see accepting generosity and grace isn't something that comes naturally to me. I come from a home of two hard-working parents who would help us kids when we needed it, but ultimately expected us to work for what we need.
So when I found myself in a position where I was working (as a missionary) but my work wouldn't cover my own need, I looked for ways to work more, earn more. Still what I could do on my own wasn't enough. No matter how hard I worked, I needed Grace.
The spiritual parallels are incredible. How silly of me to plan and strive and scheme and think I can do it on my own. And how tender, loving, and generous of God to raise up people to take care of my every need. Though I still wish I could pay for my own appointments, I appreciate the fact that each time I visit the doctor I'm overwhelmed again by the generosity of the cross.
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