Another proverbial race...or a completely different course

I am a few days from the starting line.  I have done the legwork.  I have run long lonely miles of training when the only ones who cheered me on were an occasional dog barking in the distance or a horse raising its head as I passed by.

There were days when training was a joy.  There were days when a run was the last thing I wanted to do.  There were days when I reminded myself not that I have to, but I get to.  Two and a half years ago, my days of running had come to an end, or so I thought, one race too much, concluding with an injury that didn't seem to go away, the end of a running adventure that lasted a decade at an impossible age and for a most improbable athlete.  I was thankful to God for what He had given.  It was time to move on to something else.

But God slowly brought healing about a year ago.   

And now, each run, I am thankful to God that I get to run again.

And on a lark, one warm afternoon last September, I signed up for another marathon.  

The marathon is this Sunday.  The training is done.  And as I have seen in the past and I see now again, the LORD saves, sustains, strengthens and changes me in the process.  On the outside, it appears as training for a race.  On the inside, it is training for life, that which sanctification looks like.  It is not just the discipline itself that transforms, but the wide open conversations with God that change me on those rough stretches of trail and ribbons of country asphalt roads when I can pray outloud, listen without distraction, and feel His indwelling taking over and rearranging my thoughts and attitudes like so many pieces of furniture.  I come back from a run, and I see things differently.  I am thirsty for Him.

A couple of weeks ago, at a small group supper, not even on a run, I felt a little twinge in my hip.  A tight muscle, perhaps, but it put a little wrinkle in my thoughts.  Do I finish this thing out.... or do I walk away from it?  Run through the pain like I did last time...or call it a day?

I know that I don't have to have an excuse to pull the plug on this marathon.  I don't have to prove anything.  I just need to be faithful to God.  He will work the rest.

I just want to make sure that I am not seeking the easy way out in this, nor make a decision out of fear or timidity, but to look to His way, to look on the other side, even in this, what seems so trivial, a few hours on a measured course.

I can hear one of our daughters saying, "Mom, don't overthink this."  I can hear one of the others saying, "Get a new hobby."  Our youngest said, "This doesn't have to be the last time."  And our other daughter just looks at me and asks, "Why wouldn't you want to?"

Am I asking for advice and prayer because I want someone else to make the decision for me?  Am I seeking God in this because I just don't want to make a mistake?  Decide for me, O LORD.

He doesn't work that way.

I have every reason to race this weekend.  I have every reason not to.  Guide me, O LORD, in this.

It seems a rather insignificant thing to ask God about.  But God reminds me, "Pray about everything."  (Philippians 4. 6)

And I realized this morning, whether I run this marathon or not, He may have prepared me through it for something else entirely.  "No effort is for naught," my grandmother used to say.  God doesn't waste anything done for His glory.

I realize that my seeking may have nothing at all to do about a marathon, but instead, coming to know a little bit more about God's faithfulness, a deeper relationship with Him, another dimension, another course for next week that I cannot possibly imagine.

I'll keep you posted.

Therefore,
since we are surrounded by
so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us also lay aside every weight
   and sin which clings so closely,
and let us run with perseverance
    the race that is set before us,
looking to Jesus...

                      Hebrews 12. 1-2

The written list and the one that is not

I am making my list for the day, navigating the big rocks that already appear before me, responsibilities to take care of, and all the stuff that I forgot to do yesterday.  And I am very aware that the most profound things I encounter today do not appear on this list.

I know, underlying all of these words and tasks on the surface is something more.  I only think I can dictate my day.  That is a profound failure, not just of my imagination, but a profound denial of the reality of God. He can change the course of my day and the trajectory of my life before I am even aware of it. I witness that in varying degrees everyday.  It is not that God can change it all, but that God has.  The story of my life is radically different because of my relationship with Him.

That is not a theological concept nor a religious affection, but the reality of who He is.

In the olden days in church, these stories of God's Presence were labeled as "testimonies."  These life-changing stories were not mere anecdotes with God's name tag artificially and awkwardly attached.  God is at work in great and powerful ways, in the shifting of tectonic plates and in the tiniest details.

And for that timid little girl sitting on those hard pews, and now for this still timid grandma, I am encouraged and inspired by stories of grace.  Because they reveal not just the working out of a Biblical worldview, but the reality of God.  The LORD is not just working in others' lives.  He is working in me in ways I may never know on this side of life.

Sometimes we get a glimpse.  But always we can know.

I read these ancient writings of God in His Word that are not just relevant to my life today, but a great hoard of treasure, transforming and so incredibly personal, a precious revealing of the reality of God, a continual reminder of His Presence.  " I am with you.  Do not be afraid."

And daily I learn that, "It means simply God is here.  There is no place, there can be no place, where He is not," writes A. W. Tozer in his 1948 classic The Pursuit of God.

I stand at the beginning of this sacred day, in its midst, and at the midnight hour, in that which appears significant and that which looks like only a simple task, and learn to find Him there.

Because He is.  Is worship just a sudden awareness of Him?

"Oh, you see God in everything," doubters accuse.  "Things just happen."

Really?

And Tozer proposes "...allow at least the possibility that such experiences may arise from the Presence of God in the world and His persistent effort to communicate with mankind.  Let us not dismiss such an hypothesis too flippantly."

The reality of God is not subject to prevailing public opinions.

His Presence changes everything.  Everything on my list for today... and all those things never even written there, even those things yet invisible on my radar, God's faithfulness is inscribed all over it.

My times
   are in Your hand

              Psalm 31. 15

Looks mostly dead to me

I glanced out the kitchen window this morning at the forest of trees that surround us.  Right now, the scene is largely devoid of color, greys, musty browns and barren.  A few gangly rhododendrons persevere through the winter and remind me what green looks like.

The landscape looks mostly dead to me. 

But I know what is coming.  It is not just what I can hope for.  It is of what I can be assured.  It is what I can know.

In a few short weeks, these woods will shake their drowsy heads and burst forth with a thousand shades of tender green, their praises bombarding the senses, their joy resounding all over the forest.  The animals emerge from their caves and holes in the ground.  The birds form a neighborhood chorus.  Tendrils of wildflowers find their way through the hard rocky ground to carpet the earth with beauty.

The flowers, leaves and fruit decorate the branches.  But the growth comes from the roots.

The landscape is not dead after all, but being redeemed.

No matter what we believe,

the awe we feel

    is worship to the Creator

just coming into view.

Despite what appears on the surface, there is a lot more going on behind the scenes.  Silence does not denote that God is absent.  Silence is His unfathomable Presence beckoning us to go deeper, to listen not just for an answer or for change to happen, but to seek Him, be still ourselves, and know that He is God.

“All human wisdom is contained in these two words:  Wait and Hope,” says Alexandre Dumas in his classic The Count of Monte Cristo.

Don’t get ahead of God.  Wait and hope.

Spring is not just coming.  God is bringing it.  God is redeeming the landscape.  God is redeeming your life.

…as Christ was raised from the dead

by the glory of the Father,

we too might walk

             in newness of life.

              Romans 6. 4

Because that is what hope is

It was a messy cold wintry morning when our daughter called on her way to work.  "Coldness!" she lamented in our conversation.

"Well, you know what my dad always said about it," I said.

"Deal with it?" she guessed, which I have to admit sounded a lot like my dad.

"No," I laughed, "actually, I can always remember him saying in the middle of those bitterly cold Chicago winters, "Every day is just one day closer to spring."

It was a word of hope when all looked like despair.  Look forward to spring.  It's coming again!

But the true essence of hope is not manifest in the future.  Hope is manifest in the faithfulness of God in our past and in our present.  Hope is secure in what He has redeemed and what He is redeeming.  Hope is seamlessly woven in the right now's of life.  It is not what is yet to come, but today.  Not just in the waiting for it, but through it.

I noticed over the weekend shy daffodils scrambling to the surface, their tender green sprouts standing in fierce defiance on a bleak black and white landscape, a visible reminder of God's faithfulness.

The world views hope as wishful thinking.
But hope in the Bible is not just a positive thought,
    but a reality on which
                  you can stake your life.

This is the day which the LORD has made.
Let us rejoice
       and be glad in it.

                     Psalm 118. 24

Dog-eared pages

Beware in your prayers, above everything else, of limiting God, not only by unbelief, but by fancying that you know what He can do.

                             --Andrew Murray

                                (1828-1917)