Get 'er done

Kevin and I have worked out a system in which we split up the weekend mornings: I get Saturday and he gets Sunday. I'll be honest: it's extremely tempting to squander my morning by sleeping in--my bed is oh-so-comfortable and if I put on my eye mask and ear plugs, I can usually tune out the pitter patter of little feet and the over-eager light of the sun. Usually, however, I use Saturdays to complete my long runs. This Saturday was no exception.

The schedule, aka my slave driver, said to run nine miles, which is a very doable distance, but for whatever reason that day I recoiled at the idea. I did not want to run. Any distance. At all. I felt groggy, my energy was low, it was hot and humid, I was sick of running in the same boring neighborhoods...my list was lengthy, cleverly contrived, and convincing. A little voice told me to put off the run until the next day and crawl back into bed (I think it was the same little voice that says it's not a problem to consume half a pan of brownies in a sitting). I was this close to listening to the voice and surrendering to sleep when I walked outside to get the paper and the fresh air overtook me. Walking back in, a force more powerful than beckoning weather met me--a long, drawn-out wail from one of the boys. Fully convinced, I hastily got dressed and set out.

Early on in my run I began meditating on that old proverb: "Do not put off until tomorrow what can be done today." While I was pleased as punch that I had actually followed the saying, I wondered what motivated Jesus to instruct his disciples to do this. Now, I know it's probably unwise for one with as limited amount of wisdom as I have to meddle in the mind of the Master, but I attempted to answer the question of why. Why should we do things as they come up, rather than wait?

A few answers came to mind: first, crossing off a task from our to-do list clears mental space. While motherhood has done many wonderful things for me, it certainly hasn't helped with my ability to multi-task. The day of a mother is comprised of so many tiny to-dos that it's tough to remember them all, let alone do them. All too often I recall some mundane task that needs to be taken care of in the kitchen, walk into the kitchen to do it, only to see that the floor needs sweeping. So I sweep it and completely forget about whatever it was I originally entered the room to do. Jesus knows about the all-too-limited nature of our minds. Therefore, maybe he's doing us a favor by recommending that we just do it (sorry, Nike).

Secondly, you never know what the future holds. Sure, I could easily have put off my run until tomorrow, but what if I woke up and it was raining? If that was the case, chances are good that I wouldn't have got the run in at all. Intuitively we know this when we tell our spouses "I love you" every morning; it may seem a little perfunctory, but somewhere in the recesses of our mind we know that anything could happen that day, for better or, God forbid, for worse. So, we seize hold of the moment by offering them that hug, that peck on the lips, that "I love you." Or we should. For you never know.

Finally, we should do things now because Jesus says so, he is our King, and we need to listen to him. The King is not one to bargain with. Consider the knights of old: back then, there was no "Hey King, I really like what you had to say about taking care of that nasty dragon business on the coast, and I plan on getting to it at some point, but I'm just not feeling it right now. Kind of tired, you know? That, and my wife is getting on my case for always being gone. So, if it's all the same to you, I think I'll just go home today, get some rest, and maybe look into the situation next week. Sound good?" All the king would have had to do at that point would be to give a nod and--poof!--the knight would be no more. The appropriate response is: "Yes, King. I'll do that, King. Right away, King. Thank you, King." Jesus, the king of the universe, is no exception. We should obey his mandates, and obey them today.

As I wrapped up my run, I felt pleased as punch with my well thought-out ideas and hurried home to look up the exact biblical reference where one could find the "Do not put off...." verse. Matthew, I thought. I think it is in Matthew. Probably somewhere in the Sermon on the Mount. Nope. Then it's gotta be in Proverbs. Sounds pretty proverbial. Not there either. Funny thing, it turns out that this saying is just that--a saying--and isn't even in the Bible. Which kind of renders my post obsolete and should forevermore make anyone question anything I try quoting from the Bible. Certainly I will not be chosen for any one's Bible Trivia team. Wow. Next thing I know you're going to tell me that I Scream, You Scream is just a silly nursery rhyme...

But it may just be that my post has some meaning to it after all, for I'm convinced God wanted me to go for a jog that Saturday. I do some of my best thinking during my long runs. You can only listen to music for so long before it starts to grate on your eardrums, and the music on Kevin's iPod (think: Bob Marley and Enya) doesn't exactly lend itself well to working out. So about half way through my run I started thinking about my sister and about some of the big things that have happened to her this year, both good and bad. And while I was dwelling on these things, God revealed something about His sovereignty and purpose in her life that was so amazing it took my breath away. When this thought hit me, I actually stopped running and kneeled on the road to thank Him, I was so overwhelmed. After that it was just a big love fest between me and the Big Guy. So, the run was a blessing--one that I might not have received had I not gone out running that day.

So, regardless of where those words about doing things now originated from, I still think it's prudent to do things when you have the chance rather than wait. Now if I can just put this into practice the next time the desire to stay in bed hits...

Priceless

How much money does it take to make you happy? For me, the answer is a hundred bucks. Now, $100 can go a long way. A few of the possibilities: it could buy quite a few used clothes for my growing-like-weeds boys. Or, it could buy two date nights away from said boys. It could also buy 25 pints of Ben and Jerry's ice cream to be consumed following the date away from said boys. For me, however, $100 buys a pair of running shoes.

Buying running shoes is something that I look forward to and dread at the same time. Due to foolish exploits of the past in which I've unwittingly run on trail shoes or shoes that, because of age, belonged not on my feet but in a dumpster, I know the perils of running on inadequate shoes. I've been on runs where the stress fractures start in my legs and continue to spread until they've reached every last phalange. I'm a firm believer in quality running shoes if you want to prevent running injuries. Thus, I place great importance on regularly buying new shoes.

The frustrating part is how much a decent pair of running shoes costs: a hundred dollars for one pair, which were not even the high end model; those would have cost me another $20. It's ironic, because just this past weekend Kevin's cousin was telling me about a book that gives the account of this tribe from, I want to say, South America. The members of the tribe run 100s of miles just for the sheer thrill of it. They are not running in Asics, nor are they running in New Balance, Nike, Saucony, or any of the other top running shoes on the market. No, they run bare footed, and do so at an astonishing pace for much of their lives. As inspiring as this is, I live in modern day America and have to contend with such perils as asphalt and concrete and garbage juice and the like. In my book, wearing shoes is a must. I just wish they weren't so darned expensive.

The cost of running shoes is not the only thing I struggle with. I am fed up with the cost of life. Why does living have to be so expensive? My husband and I have been blessed with a very comfortable life in which we don't want for anything, and yet the expenses mount up. Now I'm not talking about the luxuries life has to offer: I don't own designer clothes, we don't go on fancy vacations, and neither one of us owns a sports car. I'm talking about those necessities that you are forced to buy as a member of modern society--gas, diapers, underwear, etc. I hate spending money on these things, yet it's something I am forced to do. (My husband will not have anything more to do with me until I purchase some new undergarments, ones "without holes, tears, or discoloration from age". )

I think my reticence in purchasing anything new for myself, underwear and shoes included, is precisely because it is for myself. As a stay-at-home mother, my mantra is to be as selfless as possible, to the point where spending money on anything that sole benefits me feels selfish. Sure, the case could be made that the shoes ultimately help my family because they allow me to run, which makes me feel better about myself, which makes me act kinder and more loving toward my family, which makes me generally more pleasant to be around. But when all is said and done, these $100 beauties are strapped to my feet and my feet only, and I am the only one running on them. As a result, I feel a profound sense of guilt. Yet I buy them anyway.

I know there is a balance to be found in spending, I am just not sure what it looks like. As Christians living in middle class America, how much money are we to spend on ourselves? My family is not in the business of attempting to keep up with the Jones's, yet I don't want to feel guilty on those occasions when I spend some money on something that brings me enjoyment. I feel like my husband and I live pretty frugal lives, but anyone outside of the modernized world would laugh at this assessment of our wealth. So what do we do? After the ten percent rule, what amount of money should be spent on ourselves and what should be given or socked away?

After grappling with this issue for some time, I had hoped to wrap up this post with my new-found knowledge, offering it to you as a nice shiny gift which you could use to guide you in all future purchasing decisions. Such is not to be the case, though. I don't have the answers to this one, and will continue to struggle with it. In the meantime, I guess we'll keep on giving to church and to charity, living within our means, and buying running shoes (and underwear) when they are needed.

By the way, I took my shoes out for a test drive today. As I strapped them on, my feet gave an excited squeal, my knees said "it's about time!", and my legs took off on a short but fast-paced morning jog, which, in the new running shoes, felt great and made all members very happy. So, yes, I guess $100 really does buy me happiness.

Redemption

This past weekend my family and I went to New Jersey, where I was provided with the opportunity to redeem myself from the week's failed attempt at an eleven mile run. As usual, God knows what is best for me because this run was nothing less than a gift from Him.

As opposed to the miserably humid 80 degree weather I experienced earlier in the week, Saturday morning welcomed me with a cool and crisp 60 degrees. I had decided to run down to a nearby lake and the forested paths that surround it. To those of you surprised by this talk of forests, lakes, and nature, I am still talking about New Jersey. You may associate New Jersey with those images seen in the opening shots of "The Sopranos"--the Turnpike with it's picturesque factories billowing smoke out out of their immense smokestacks, the dilapidated buildings, the hustle and bustle of the cities surrounding New York. New Jersey is these things, there is no denying. But in the northwestern part of the state, only about 40 minutes away from the city, New Jersey is lakes and forests and mountains and beauty. And I was able to enjoy it's beauty early Saturday morning.

The house I was staying at sits on top of what can only be described as a small mountain, or at the very least, an extremely steep hill. In order to get to the path by the lake I had to run down this hill, knowing full well I'd be paying for it on the way up. The lake run is worth it, though, and my downward jaunt was rewarded by the sighting of two deer prancing through the woods as quietly and as gracefully as anything. Once I got to the lake I was able to run on a path that took me through the woods and past several streams, waterfalls, and smaller lakes. I adore trail running and was reminded that I actually used to mountain bike along these trails once upon a time--it was wonderful. The trek back to the top of the mountain was tough, as was to be expected, but I honestly didn't mind. I was feeling at the top of my game. The run had completely energized me and had driven away all previous thoughts of my prior failed run that week. I had been redeemed.

The weekend was redeeming in other, more important ways, as well. I had the chance to witness a family that had been plagued by tension, broken or failed relationships, and heartache reunite for the first time in a year. As difficult as it may have been, individual family members put their differences aside for the sake of the family as a whole. Sure, the weekend was not Utopian. Hiccups rose up, some that required attention, others that needed to be ignored or buried. But, for the most part, the family overcame these obstacles. They began the slow process of rebuilding: fixing that which needs some repairs, preserving that which can be salvaged from the past, and figuring out how to work with that which can not.

The redeeming events of this weekend led me to reflect on the one who gave us full redemption, Jesus Christ. Without him, we would be eaten alive by negative feelings of inadequacy, doubt, and shame. Our relationships would remain broken, with no hope of resuscitation. But, praise be to God, "for he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins" (Colossians 1: 13-14). Jesus has freed us to live our lives fully to his glory. He has empowered us to do great things in his name. So let us forgive those who have hurt us. Let us put aside our pride and try again, even though we may have failed in the past. Let us continue doing what is good, what is right, even if it is tough, for this is what we have been called to do.

We have been redeemed.

Setbacks

To the so-called running experts who recommend getting up early in order to beat the heat: running at 5:00 doesn't make it any easier, it just makes it darker. My goal this morning was to get in eleven miles before seven o'clock, which meant waking up around five (I say "around" because the snooze button will inevitably get pushed at least once, much to the chagrin of my husband. Hey, it's on there for a reason). We've been experiencing a heat wave and today promised to be a scorcher, so I figured getting up early would make the odds of me finishing this run and not turning into a puddle increase significantly. Wrong.

As I stepped outside, I was hit by 82 degree air that was the consistency of molasses, and indeed, molasses is what I felt I was running through, if you can call what I was doing "running". Generally I run with relative ease, choosing when I want to step up the intensity. Not so today. Each step was s-l-o-w and required maximum effort. Honestly, if running was always that excruciating and difficult I would be carrying hand weights and power walking. I quickly realized that eleven miles just weren't going to happen today. I was forced to do five instead, and they were the slowest five miles of my life. Feeling defeated, I returned home and went back to bed, disappointed that the sun was barely up and I had already failed to reach one of the day's goals.

Runs like today's can really mess with a runner's head. Because running is such a mental activity, these runs often do a great deal of damage to a runner's self esteem (at least they do to the fragile esteem of this novice runner). All the previous successes you've had get wiped out and replaced by a new image of yourself as this slow creature incapable of distances of any sort. It is only with your next run that you are reminded of your potential as a distance runner, and even then the failed run still remains to lurk in your mind.

Unfortunately setbacks like these can and do permeate other areas of life as well. You think your marriage is running smoothly until you hit a relational pothole the size of a small house. You are pleased with the effort you are making at work until your boss tells you she expects more. You are convinced that your child has finally learned how to play with others when he hauls off and smacks his brother in the head with a truck. And the list goes on...

Knowing that we are "destined for trials" (1 Thesalonians 3:3), why am I so caught off guard when they hit? I supposed it has a lot to do with expectations. My expectation is that, in all areas of my life, I should be growing or improving. If we were to plot an area of our life, say, our marriage, we would expect our relationship with our spouse to be linear: as time goes by, our relationship grows. All one has to do is look at the divorce rate, however, to know that this is obviously not always the case. Our marriage may fail. We may get fired. Our child may be a social misfit forever. We become slow runners as age takes its toll. Things don't always improve.

Or do they? Sometimes life is going in the direction we desire. The route we are taking, though, may not be a straight line leading to perfection but rather a jagged line with a lot of mini valleys, hills, and plateaus. When we find ourselves in one of the valleys after a setback it is sometimes easy to lose sight of the progress we've made. That is when we should reflect on the situation, evaluate it's seriousness and decide on a proper course of action.

So what do we do when life refuses to go the direction we want? Because, let's face it, things don't always work out. We all know someone whose circumstances seem so dire that we begin to question God. Why, God? Why would you let this happen? How much can one person take? Fortunately, I've never been in a situation like this, although I have had my share of difficulties, however minor, and I fully expect to see more. And, as impossible as this may seem, I am to view these troubles as opportunities to grow. Indeed, Romans 5:3-4 says, "We rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." Rejoice. We are to rejoice when we suffer!

Now I'll be honest, I'm not rejoicing when I suffer, and I don't want to rejoice when I suffer. I wasn't all that thrilled to have fought with my husband this week, and I definitely didn't feel like celebrating after my failed run. I'm pretty sure I could do without these things. But, I have to admit that there is some comfort in knowing that these setbacks can produce some good, some growth. A friend put it like this:

If God gave us no rough roads to walk, no mountains to climb, and no battles to fight, we would not grow. He does not leave us alone with our challenges, however. Instead, he stands besides us, teaches us, and strengthens us to face them. (Brandy Clark)

Reflecting on my flopped run, I've decided to commit a verse to memory, one that I can hold on to in the face of a rough run or any tough situation, for that matter. It is:

Habakkuk 3:19 The sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights.

Help me to run like a deer, Lord. Be my strength.

Let's get muddy!

As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new patterns of the soul will not emerge. -Henry Van Dyke

Routine. I, for one, am a fierce defender of it. My boys were put on schedules from day one, Jack willingly, Ben not-so-much (but he gave in eventually). Schedules permeate my family life: we know what we are doing when we wake up, when we eat lunch, when we wake up from naps--everyone knows what to expect each day because each day looks the same as the last.

This form of living simplifies life, but admittedly gets dull rather quickly. Necessity dictates that every now and again we switch things up: last week my husband and I deviated from our typical restaurant date and tried our luck on the tennis court. A few Mondays ago my boys and I made an impromptu visit to a friend's house rather than grocery shop. And this past Saturday I participated in a run. But not just any run. A MUD run.

I was initially drawn to this particular mud run by the picture on the event's brochure. It featured a buff-looking girl crawling on her hands and knees through a waist-deep mud pit. Now I'm not usually the "let's get dirty" type. I admit to sometimes struggling with letting my boys go outside because of the inevitable dirt they are going to accumulate on every inch of their bodies. And I abhor dirty feet. So ordinarily this type of thing wouldn't appeal to me. But something about that picture made me think that this wasn't your typical run. And I was in a running slump, which happens (at least it does to me) when you do the same thing long enough.

Running isn't exactly what I'd call an "exciting" sport, if, indeed, you are to label it a sport. Sure, you can run different distances, or try varying your pace, or look for different landscapes or routes in which to jog, but essentially you are doing the same thing: running. That's why runners sign up for races, because races offer some excitement. The collective adrenaline and nerves while everyone waits for the race to start...the varying emotion on people's faces as they strain to go just one mile longer...exhilarating. But when you sign up for a race it involves training, which brings you back to the same. old. thing. again....running.

But, like I said, this run looked different. The brochure described the event as a "five mile run featuring various obstacles...water pits, sand traps, rivers, and mud". Five miles is a distance I can easily do, so I needn't train for that. And I wasn't about to turn my back yard into an obstacle course (although my boys might actually enjoy something like that). Plus, I managed to convince four other girls to run it as a team, only by promising that we would do it for fun only and not for time, which released me from the usual pressure I put on myself to run as fast as I can without puking. This would be the first race I didn't have to train for, and that was liberating.

Well, the mud run turned out to be more of a sand run--the course was probably three-quarters sand, which does not make for easy running. It did, however, feature a river and a climbing wall (albeit a small one). There were hills of sand to climb and trails to pass through. There were plenty of water pits, and, yes, there was a huge mud pit at the very end in which you got IMMERSED in mud that was the consistency of pudding, if pudding had small pebbles in it. We went at a pretty relaxed pace, which made the run seem casual and allowed for conversation. I think all of us were pretty excited to have done something that we had never done before.

And now it's time for the part where I compare running to life and my few readers groan and probably go back to Facebook, because at least Facebook doesn't throw running analogies at you. But come on, who out there can honestly say that they don't suffer from the occassional slump? No matter how good we have it, we all experience moments when the monotony and routine of life just pulls us down and we wonder why. Why do we do it? And how are we going to continue to do it for another x number of years?

It is during these times when we need to do find a mud run. Now your mud run may look different than mine. It may be a trip to the movie theatre by yourself on a Wednesday night or an unplanned visit to see an old friend. It may be a last minute mini-vacation to a neighboring state. It may be completely clean with no mud at all. But we all need to mix it up sometimes by doing something different. It doesn't have to be something big or drastic, it just has to be something that we wouldn't ordinarily do. Something that awakens our souls and makes life fresh again.

Life is good, even if it doesn't always excite us. The ordinary isn't bad and routine is nothing to fear, unless it dictates all action and makes deviation from the norm impossible. So with that being said, let's get muddy! (don't worry, pictures to follow!)