Archive for the The Journey Category

I once had a dream I could run. In the dream I was jogging down a sidewalk and it was fun and “easy.” It was so real that when I woke up, I felt good. It was so vivid I thought I might actually try to go out and do it. The problem was my actual body shape and size. I knew if I tried to run I would most likely trip over my chubby toes and bonk my chubby nose.

You see, I tried jogging in my mid twenties after I lost a substantial amount of weight. It was never fun and never easy. Also, I tore my feet up running in bad shoes and ended up with a severe case of plantar fasciitis and bone spurs. A few years of physical therapy and orthotics fixed the chronic pain, but the “spurs” remained.

I was very self-conscious about my weight and my food choices. I felt like people were always analyzing everything I put into my mouth. I once had a friend smack a Godiva chocolate out of my hand in front of a group of people. I was mortified. It seemed like the only thing I was really good at was baking and gaining weight. Food was my love language and emotional support mechanism.

I forgot about my dream because I knew it was impossible. I went on gaining weight and baking. Until one day I stopped and decided to make a lifestyle change (as documented on this site).

One day I was walking down Georgie Avenue in Ferguson, Missouri and wondered what it would feel like to jog. I jogged about 20 steps and started walking again. (I sincerely hoped no one saw my boobs hit my chin!) After all, I’d lost about 100 pounds and had never in my life purchased a special running bra. I kept walking but made a mental note to go shopping. Once my cleavage was properly secured, I tried again; jog 20 steps, walk 20 steps. Jog 50 steps, walk 50 steps. Jog 100 steps, walk 100 steps. Eventually, I jogged my way to a 5K. It was an incredible feeling when the race was over, but it never felt fun or easy. The 5K was an “exercise” in torture.

After that I ran a lot–so much so that I lost another 40 pounds. I also tore my SI joint and re-injured my feet. There were many setbacks. I had learned how to push myself to accomplish big goals and then I had to learn how to rest my body to prevent injury.

I regained and lost 20 pounds several times. I struggled with exercise bulimia. My ribs kept popping out of place and causing excruciating pain. I also had a recurring pinched nerve in my neck. The runners I worked with were all encouraging me to run a marathon–or at the very least–a half marathon. Every conversation with them was about technique. I must be doing it wrong. How was I lifting and landing my feet? Maybe I just needed to push through the pain? Everyone wanted to help me reach the next milestone in my running journey, but I felt doomed to be a big disappointment–not only to them, but to myself. Any time I tried to run more than 6 miles, I would re-injure. Any time I ran more than once I week, It was the same. My SI joint would “melt” and my feet would ache.

Fast forward a few years.

I discovered the woman who inspired me to lose weight had regained all of hers. (Jeannette Fulda). So had many others I followed online. They didn’t announce it or anything–they just kind-of stopped blogging about their weight-loss journeys. Meanwhile, I was still trying to be faithful to live a healthy lifestyle. And the reality is, the daily grind of maintaining massive weight loss can get stale. I get bored of eating the same fruits and vegetables. My capacity to consume meat of any kind has diminished. Pork of any kind unsettles my tummy and makes me swell. I also get cravings for MSG-laden Asian cuisine. More importantly, I still struggle not to overeat–even though I don’t crave cookies or cake any longer.  Avoiding “trigger foods” can feel restrictive at times. And in case I didn’t say it loud enough, living a healthy lifestyle long-term can be really BORING.

And then the dream returned. I dreamed I was running and not getting tired or sore. I was running around town and having fun. I guess my subconscious was telling me I still had something to aspire to. It’s not that I ever quit running–or that it got exponentially easier–I just didn’t look forward to or enjoy it. I usually jog with my dog, Annabelle(a boxer) and I listen to sermons or my bible–as I have from the very beginning of my journey. Annabelle pulls me up hills and God prompts me to overcome adversity by giving me His grace. (I can’t really explain that piece of it other than to say, I feel His favor when I run–and cry–and pray).

Annabelle can’t run with me during the warmer months because she gets overheated. This morning, it was drizzling rain, and she doesn’t like to get wet, so I ran alone. There are a lot of hills on my route and I usually struggle without my “sled dog”. But this morning was different. This morning, something clicked like it has never clicked before. This morning, I knew I could run up the first hill without her. More importantly, I also knew I didn’t need to walk at the top of the hill because I was out of breath. I knew I could “push through” by altering my breathing. I wasn’t worried about running a specific amount of time at a specific speed or pushing through pain. I just ran. And I made a conscious decision to enjoy it.

I realize now that I haven’t enjoyed running because I was always comparing myself to other runners. I wasn’t super fast and I wasn’t super trendy. I was more worried about what I was supposed to look or feel like than simply enjoying the freedom of running. Isn’t that silly? I spent so many years being embarrassed about my shape and size that it became my identity. Almost as if I had become the physical manifestation of an apology for not being the kind of runner others thought I should be. I realize now I may never be what others want me to be–and that’s okay. Besides, I can’t actually be anybody else but me.

This is a manifestation of God’s grace.

Today while I ran I listened to the book of John–which I have been studying for the past month. The verses in John 14, 15 and 16 caused me to reflect on who I really am and set me free from the comparison mindset.

Today I realized miracles do happen. Sometimes they start as dreams. Maybe that is why God gave dreams to people like Joseph, and visions to people like Isaiah, Jeremiah and others. Jesus said, “Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.” (John 14:21)

I feel the manifestation of Jesus when I run. Running does not come naturally to me. But the discipline of movement over the years has changed me. It has changed my physically and spiritually in ways I never thought possible. If you are reading this and have a dream you think is impossible–dare to dream. Then, dare to run. (just make sure you have the proper foundation garment!)

“For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” Hebrews 2:18

Have you ever stood before the billowing clouds of a stormfront? Did you watch the undulating swirl with awe as as the wind swept over your face and the first drops of rain hit your cheeks? Did you rush for cover when the wind picked up and the branches on the trees began to wave like white flags before a battalion of the enemy? Did you watch from the safety of your living room window as limbs broke and lightening raged across the sky?

I like to read the comments on social media much more than I like to respond. It interests me what people think and write–often with more time spent on the latter. Therefore, I took an interest in a a post from the St. Charles County police department on a crime that had been committed recently and how it impacted the community.

A hunter was shooting for turkey when he accidentally hit a hiker on a trail I frequent in Weldon Springs. How he did that surprises me as I often see people walking and running that trail. With scenic views over the Missouri River, I wondered why any hunter would be pointing a gun in any direction in that area. One of my neighbors wrote, “I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose and I am praying for the hunter and the victim.” Someone responded, “Whether he did it on purpose is beside the point–the result is the same. And if you want to waste your time praying, go for it.”

This set off a rapid succession of discourse and no end of nastiness.

The thing is, I have often felt like prayer is a waste of time–but no one has ever said that to my face. The internet provides a barrier between acquaintances where they can say what they might never say to ones face with no shame. The thing that struck me about that conversation was how often I had prayed for the individual who wrote “prayer is a waste of time.”

Is this what faith in God looks like from outside? Like I am a muttering fool? For an instant, I regretted ever lifting them up. Why did I spend precious moments of my life meditating on them?

These little “emotional storms” occur with such frequency on social media that last year I started to delete people from my feed who engaged in such behavior. Especially those who identify as Christians. It’s one thing to watch the storm approach–but once the wind and rain touch me personally, I’m out. To the safety of the house, I run.

“Whoever belittles his neighbor lacks sense, but a man of understanding remains silent.” Proverbs 11:12

But as I am learning–even silence speaks volumes. Just ask someone whether or not they got the vaccine.

The temptation to “speak your mind” is as enticing as chocolate buttercream icing. Worse, the temptation to berate and judge those with opposing views is like molten lava cake. I am coming to understand the reason we are all clashing is because we have lost the ability to see we are not always right. We form opinions based on our life experiences and then project them onto others as if our view was the only one. We are not objective; we are subjective. But rather than try to understand the perspective of someone else, we project onto them. Unfortunately, this creates misunderstanding and the inevitable hurt feelings.

What if we started asking questions to seek to understand before we “sounded off?” What if we sought to see the cracks of pain in our neighbors and friends before we applied the brand of medicine we deem best? Some of them need mercurochrome but others need stitches. And none of us know how deep or how infected their wound may be. If we apply wisdom, we remain silent, but if we apply courage–we ask questions. More importantly, if we exemplify love–we heal a wound–even if we walk away choosing to disagree.

I would suggest we are all exposed to the elements–waiting for a storm front to blow in. I have a lot of experience getting wet and ducking for cover, but I’d like to practice being the shelter for my neighbor instead. From their perspective, I may be “wasting my time in prayer” but that doesn’t mean I can’t seek to understand why they feel that way. And it especially doesn’t mean I should stop praying for them.

Standing put in the storm and not becoming the lightening is a discipline. It may take some time to practice being an umbrella instead, but if God is still listening–and answering prayers–I know His promise to “give us more grace” will help.

It’s been raining again. But it’s not a little “drip, drip, drop, little April showers” that happens in Bambi. It’s a cold and fussy, snot-like moisture that finds the crevices in rooves and basement corners and creeps in. It’s the nasty drivel that spits and leaves a brown stain on the ceiling where things were once crisp and white. It’s a “Where the mop?” kind of moment.

I’ve been working on a building a retaining wall. A few weeks ago I started to build the steps. I had the foundation all laid before I realized I didn’t know what I was doing. So there are piles of dirt and limestone gravel waiting to be moved and I haven’t the brain power to finish the puzzle. I’ve been watching Youtube videos and looking at pictures but I haven’t the confidence to do what they do. So when the rain started washing away my dirt, I just sighed. What I really need is for an expert to come in and just finish it for me, but I can’t afford that. So I decided maybe I don’t need stairs. I’ll just build up the wall and fill it in with dirt and finish it off with creeping flowers to cover my ineptitude.

But there’s a level of disappointment I can’t articulate in that approach. I really want to “finish well.” I’ve spent a few years building this thing now and it seems like giving up is well, really lame. But I’m in the messy middle of the project and I can’t see my way out of it so matter which angle I stare from. And believe me, I’ve analyzed them all.

A friend of mine is going through a pretty tough time with one of her children. She’s tried any number of therapies and none of them are working. His behavior is off the charts bad. He’s rebellious, hot-tempered, and defiant. He’s also wickedly compulsive. This past year he’s been out of school more than he’s been in and she’s out-of-her mind worried about him. She’s reached a stage of hopelessness unbeknownst to people who never had a child with behavioral disorders.

“Some hearts are built on a floodplain.” – Sara Groves

The other day she felt the waves of despair lapping at the edge of her feet. So she chucked all her plans for the day and fled to the river to pray. She grabbed her bible and a cup of coffee and followed the two-lane road until it ended at the Marina. There she sat–reading Hebrews and weeping.

Hebrews 11 describes the faith of people who lived long ago; Noah, Abraham, and Moses. The narrator tells us of the many wonderful things God did for them; saving one from a flood, giving one back the life of his son, delivering the last (and all the Israelites) from certain death near the Red Sea. But then he says something curious:

“These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.” Hebrews 11:13

So what exactly were they promised that they didn’t receive?

“For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” Hebrews 11:14-16

My friend called me from the edge of hope and asked me to walk her back. She was staring at homes on stilts–built right up next to the banks of the mighty Mississippi. There was even a little community playground with a swing set and a slide. No one was playing on them in the rain, of course, but there they were–just waiting for the river to rise and wash them all away.

My friend said, “How do people live like that? Right there on the edge of insanity?”

“I don’t know.” I said.

“I see a deck built 20 feet off the ground and on top of it are 3 gazebos. Why would somebody build like that? I mean, I’m looking at a pavilion and a bevy of boats at their docks and all I can think about are floods and tornados. It’s not safe.”

“Safety is an illusion,” I said. “None of us are safe. I suppose some people prefer to live by the water. I bet it’s beautiful when the weather is nice.”

“I guess.” She said.

We were silent for a few minutes and I said, “You are going to get through this. It’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know that?” I could hear the urgency in her voice, and the disbelief.

I told her the truth. I said, “because God has promised. Hebrews 10:23 says, Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.”

My friend cried for a while and then dried her eyes and went home. And I believe she will be okay. She trusts the Lord–even when life is messy and painful.

As for me, it finally stopped raining. I’m sitting here staring out at the mud and the unfinished wall, and the silly, greedy squirrels who are waiting for me to put out more walnuts. Because of the rain, the birdbath is full and the sparrows are taking turns splashing around. They seem so joyful and optimistic. And since their happiness is contagious, I decide to go outside and enjoy the sunshine with them.

I’ll finish my wall eventually–stairs or no stairs. And my friend will get through this difficult time in her journey. Because the thing is, earth is not our home. We are looking forward to a heavenly home whose foundation is built by God. And that is nothing if not grounds for filling the heart with gladness.

“The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost.” 1 Timothy 1:15