2014: Don't let Satan blow it out

I usually write my goals out for the year. I make a list of things I really want to accomplish and map out a plan to get there. In the last few years it’s been things I have always wanted to do, but didn’t feel I was capable or feared I would give up too soon, like my almost finished quilt I made. I make a goal board and keep it in the forefront on my desk. I wrote out monthly goals and worked towards them daily. I ran the marathon, completed the Nanowrimo novel writing month with 50,000 words, and I am certified to teach two group workout classes. I conquered some fears and stepped out on a limb. Let me tell you nothing is more nerve wracking than sweating and teaching in front of people. All of a sudden your pants start to slip, your nose runs, your t-shirt flies up, you can’t remember if you wore deodorant, if you are peeing your pants during that jump squat, or if the beans you ate are going to announce their presence.  My brain literally has a melt down during the warm up. Zero relevance to this blog but I needed a little sympathy.

I have been to conferences and listened to leadership messages. They are good. They are motivating. Some were on servant leadership, some were on how to lead a movement, and some were on letting go of those that aren’t pushing you towards your goal.

If I help these people, they will help me reach my goal. I, Me, My all in one little sentence. 

“You are the some of the five people you hang around.” I need to hang around people that make me better and pull me to the top. I needed to hang around winners and goal setters. Got it.

I lived in a house full of mirrors. I could see myself and could focus on my goals. Every move I made would dictate my next level. I needed to make it good and count.

Jesus ate with sinners, prostitutes, tax collectors; he touched lepers, healed the blind, and those that couldn’t walk. The very people that could have elevated him to the top crucified him.

I wrestled with this for several weeks.

Then Jesus went to work on his disciples. “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I will show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. What kind of deal is it to get everything you want but lose yourself? What could you ever trade your soul for? Matthew 16:24-26

Go ahead and lay your head down and cry. I have. He didn’t hit me with a two by four to get my attention. He turned the mirrors around, opened the curtains, and beckoned me to look. He showed me a world beyond my four walls, my driveway, my community, my country. He reminded me he sent us to all the nations to share his word, his promise, our hope. I learned in my Perspectives class on world missions that a nation is a people group. He has opened my eyes to people groups here and abroad. He’s shown me suffering and loss beyond what I can even comprehend.

I’ve seen networking in churches. I have heard preachers brag about touching millionaires. I have heard deacons and elders worry about having “those kind” of people in our churches.  I’ve been to women’s conferences and I’ve learned how to not be homicidal toward my family, how to discipline my kids, make freezer meals, keep a budget, make my own detergent, men need respect and women need love, . I have heard all of the grace messages that make me feel not so bad about my sin. With all of this I should have a happy marriage and family 100% of the time, enough money to do what I want, be content with how I live my life, but why am I so empty? (Side note: some of these are really good things to learn. Some are a tad annoying. You can pick.)

I won’t find myself in a marathon. I won’t find myself at the end of a book I write. I won’t find myself at the end of a women’s conference. I won’t find myself when my man is content and my kids are good. I won’t find myself in the best kept budget and money in the bank. I won’t find myself if I ever get a six pack (abs, sometimes the other helps me find myself. Kidding, I think). These are not bad things.

Jesus said I will find myself in self-sacrificing. I can sacrifice for my husband. I can sacrifice for my kids. I can sacrifice to get in shape. Those are good. I want to do them. I will still do them. It’s deeper than that.

Can you hear the calling in those verses? It’s much bigger than our four walls, our churches, our own families.

Someone once said our purpose lies within our passion. I won’t go into all the details. I still get a little immature over how it all went down, but I loved the people at tent city. I loved them. Barney loved them. We looked over every time we drove over the bridge to see the fire. Barney cut wood twice a week to deliver it. Our kids loved making deliveries. I loved Marie.

I remember asking if I could pray with her before we left the last time. I so desperately wanted to pray for her to have a warm house, a nice hot shower, a haircut, new clothes, a job, food that wasn’t sitting in the middle of a table outside. When she placed her dirty, worn hands in mine all I could do was thank God for the lessons she taught me, for caring for newcomers, teaching me how to stay warm after a homeless experiment with youth from work left me frozen to the bone and my shoes melted, for her beauty, her heart, her life, and that she knew he had a plan for her life. With tears running down both of our faces, we said goodbye. I haven’t seen her since.

Not long after that, Barney drove me to a rough neighborhood and asked if I would ever be willing to live somewhere like this if God called us to. I really wasn’t sure then, but I knew God was doing something. He was saying something. He was lighting a fire in both of us.

Don’t let Satan blow it out. I think we did. Somehow we lost sight of where and what God was calling us to. I realize my emptiness and dissatisfaction with “the church” had nothing to do with churches and everything to do with me. He’s kindling the fire.

Whoever loses his life, finds it…

My goal for 2014 is to lose my life, lay it down completely before Jesus. I lay down all of my hopes, my dreams, my rights, my self-righteous behavior, and what I think I deserve. Some of these are kicking and screaming as I pry them away.  May I only be impressed by kindness and motivated by love.

I pray, Jesus, don’t let Satan blow it out….

 

Inside Out, Upside Down and Messed Up (Exactly where I need to be)

I wrote the last portion of this in 2009. I didn't edit then and I still don't. You get the raw writing (sorry grammar police), the emotions as they come out, the thoughts as they flood my mind.  I read this and I thought, "Where did she go?" I took a detour. I forgot the things I said. If you followed me because of that note, I am sorry. I don't why I get lost but I do.  God has placed so many "go back" signs in front of my face. He stuck Jen Hatmaker in the line up at Women of Faith, called us to The Edge to listen to Jim Morgan, and if that wasn't bad enough he laid David Platt's book, Radical, in my lap. I messed up. It's a good messed up.

I have literally cried for a month. Friday I saw a photo of two starving children in Africa with a quote from a famous bible teacher about how God wants to bless us yet these kids starve. You can imagine the haters hating on Jesus. Please, it's not him. It's us.

I suddenly remembered this note I wrote. I walked past my closet of spilled out shoes and cried. I looked at seven bags of clothes that don't fit and I couldn't take it anymore. Twenty-six thousand children die every day from starvation and preventable diseases. Every. Day.

I am heartbroken.

I told Barney I needed to talk.

"I am not sure about Christmas this year. I am afraid I may ruin it." And then I just start spilling out the information through tears, rattling off statistics like I do. God's messing me up.

"Is this why you aren't sleeping."

"Barney, I have a $150 bracelet that tells me how many calories I burn." And then I lost it again.

"It was a gift, Christi. I think you can wear it."

So I can track calories that I burn when someone's dying of starvation every day?

"I missed this Christi. I think God's calling you back to where you were. It's going to work out."

Do you know how much money people spend on workouts and “diets”? I do. I am not saying it’s all bad. I teach classes and sell workouts. I remember training for my marathon and wanting to quit so many times because it was hard and it hurt. I would think of friends that fought cancer or Rich that was training for a triathlon and was paralyzed by a careless driver that hit him. I realized how blessed I am to be able to push myself to do more, to be able to train to the hard things.

I bought expensive stability cushioned shoes and performance pants that cost $70. So basically I have pants I sweat and pee in when I work out for $70. Really?  For that I could partner with our pastor and provide a wheel chair for a disabled brother or sister in and impoverished nation to give them dignity, independence, and hope. They wouldn’t have to crawl or push themselves on a skateboard.

 I cannot walk into Target, Walmart and Kohl's and not think about who made what I am about to put on and in what condition they had to do it under. Was it a 12 hour day with a scoop of rice? Then I’ll head to Starbucks and drink coffee and worry if I have enough decorations to make my house look semi presentable.

Christmas is a barn, a manger, the savior of the world in the pen with animals so that I might live. No inn, no 5 star hotel, no epidural for Mary (Bless her). Shepherds visit. You think they are clean visitors? Wise men show with gifts and not a beautiful basinet or the latest 5 point confusion car seat contraption, either. Mary didn’t have a mother bring her Bath and Body so she can smell nice and new pajamas to hide the kangaroo pouch.  Those things do not matter. (Well, legally you do need a car seat).

 I want to see differently and, yes, I get massively overwhelmed with the big picture. It's why God brings smarter people in my life. I cannot save 26,000 children today as bad as my heart aches to. I cannot end slavery overnight as angry as it makes me. I can do something.

A church I read about prayed and asked God what to do for the 150 foster kids in their area. 160 families signed up to be foster or adopted parents.

Our Pastor, Jim Morgan, said “Do not pray for a lighter load. Pray instead for a stronger back. Anything worth doing is hard.”

That picture of the two little kids still burns in my memory. We are in the top 15% of the richest people in the world. If you drive a car or have transportation, you are too.

What can I do, Lord? I don’t know what he’s going to ask us to do. I just want to be willing and ready to lay down my agenda for his.

I finished the last chapter of David Platt’s book, Radical, after I talked to Barney. He gave a one year challenge. I am always thinking of how to make the New Year a little more significant. What can I learn? What Can I do? You In?
 

1.      Read the entire Bible in a year. It doesn’t sound like much, but how can you do what we are called if you don’t really know?

2.      Pray for the world, your community, your neighborhood. Every Day.  

3.      Give Sacrificially. Not the ugly scarf you don’t like anymore. Sacrifice is the key.

4.      Go serve somewhere in missions. I know many people think that is a waste of resources and time, but you can’t really know how to pray for the people until you get to be with the people. I can send my money and mind my own business but I will never really be fully invested in what happens to those people. (Homeless shelter, recovery center, Nicaragua, Africa)

5.      Serve and commit to your church. Get involved. Connect and grow together. Sharpen one another.  

 Thank you, Lord, for messing me up, sending strong messages, breaking my heart for what breaks yours.

Here I am, Lord. Send me.

 Here’s the original Facebook note. Oh, how far I have drifted. He always guides me home.



August 2009

I forced myself to look, knowing full well that I would not be able to handle it. A post on facebook. Someone meant to spark an argument about who was wrong. The man who took the image committed suicide not long after returning home. He was said to have cursed God after taking the image. Some wonder whether it was because he took a picture of the child but did nothing to help. Some wonder if the horror he endured broke him. I don't know.



The image was a small child possibly a toddler crumpled on the ground in a starved emaciated state. Just a few feet was a vulcher perched and watching... I want to throw up. I didn't curse God when I saw it. I cursed myself.


On my desk are three magazines I planned to read during lunch. The articles are "Drop one size in 4 weeks", "Walk yourself skinny", and one says "Stubborn fat be gone". On a magazine rack after grocery shopping those articles look enticing. They are good on Monday afternoons when you had too many family dinners on the weekend or you had a bad week so you treated yourself to the chocolate stash. I still want to throw up. Why me? Why am I blessed. Why did you trust me with money I just threw away. Why do I walk in grace and mercy but not extend it to my neighbor? Why have I wasted prayers asking for help to clean up all the messes I have made?



Satan loves debt..he loves when Christians get caught up in greed and me, me, me. He loves it so that when your heart is changed and you want to give..you can't.



What is recession to us in America, to me? The loss of retirement funds we saved for. The inability to go on vacations and have staycations. Is recession no more jobs to pay for the second car, the second mortgage, the credit card debts, the season passes, the new shoes, date night at the favorite eatery, the newest gadget.We are doing Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover..I am so disappointed in myself. Where does the money go?? I eat it, wear it, drive it, drink it, charge it..Then i spend money on ways to take off the extra weight that my money paid for. We trade perfectly good cars for "cooler cars", cooler payments, cooler tags and taxes.



What is Recession to that child in the photo? What does he care about retirement, the sale at Penneys, new shoes, the new fall boot line, the new car with a built in GPS, the 401k, whether I should go dark or blonde with my hair, the new carpet, the new windows, the new house..It never crosses his mind, it never will. His day to day is..Will I eat, Will I survive?



Go ahead blame it on God. Go ahead and say that God did this. If God is real why doesn't he just fix it? Honestly I don't know. I know he gives us free will. You choose to believe He doesn't care..I choose to believe he does. I choose to believe he sends the workers for the Harvest..I choose to believe that it is through us..His chosen people.. that he brings glory to Him..I believe we have a purpose. Our purpose is not to have money so the world can see that God loves Christians..that he blessed us and made us prosperous..gave us big houses and fancy cars..I believe he blesses us to be a blessing. I believe he called us for sacrifice and that sacrifice may begin in not buying that diet mountain dew, not buying the cup of coffee and handing that money to someone who needs it. Me time will be replaced with giving. Giving gives me far more joy than a hot bath with bubbles. I believe pretty soon instead of getting a new car, we could be buying someone else a car.



When I see an image of a helpless child, those once "can't wait to read magazines" look like pornography to me. Why did I look knowing it was going to make me put my head down and cry? I needed to. I need to know what is out there. I need to know the hurting stories and I need to keep myself from becoming numb to someone elses pain. I don't want to become thick skinned and unmovable. I need to know so that I can intercede for them. I need to know so that God can show me what my hands are for.



He blessed me so I can be a blessing not so I can hoard it to myself. We are to build treasures in Heaven not here on earth. When I die my kids are going to sell my things at an estate sale. They are going to take the few valuable momentos like my rings and divide them up. That's it. I will be gone and what they will remember is the legacy I leave behind. What will it be. Will they grow up to engross themselves in debt and endless dieting woes, or will they be givers. Will they see a need and ignore it. Will they see the broken and walk by. Will they try to determine if that person will do right by the money they give or just give because they were compelled by God. Train your child in the way he should go..How am I training my girls?

 

Because He Cleans My Messes

Mornings at our house can go smoothly or be chaos. Yesterday started out pretty perfect. All the kids ready twenty minutes before the bus gets here and I had my workout in for the day.

Then she couldn’t find her glasses. Anywhere. We all looked. Like her mother, she got a little spastic, took it out on everyone and now we were in full blown chaos.

I went into her room and almost blew a gasket. How could it look like that if they “just cleaned it”.  A few moving of items and I unlocked the secret hiding place for all things “we don’t know where it goes”. Under the bed is where I am assuming all lost shoes for the last year  they “looked every where for” lay hidden. And then I started:

“If you would pull your head out of your butt”.

“You aren’t going anywhere this weekend and if you ask you’re grounded”

“You two call this clean, you’ll be cleaning all weekend.”

She found them knocked under the bed moments before the bus pulled up.

Nice morning turned ugly. I love those days.

I went on with my morning. I was pretty proud all of all I had accomplished in a short time. I fixed my lunch and sat down at my computer to work. I was looking for a coding sheet on my board when I saw my goals I had posted for the year.

Do Hard Things was my motto. I did them. I still had many more to accomplish but in the last thirty days God has asked me take my goals off myself and point them towards Him. It has been life changing. I remembered our Pastor’s message from Sunday. He talked about being bold. He said our life goal should be so people say “You remind me of Jesus”. It hit me hard.

I was thinking of how I could change my goal board to have that quote canceling out the others I had set. My mind lasts a few seconds on each thought. Then I catch myself thinking about how life looks when our goal is reminding people of Jesus. My goals can get big like feeding the homeless, traveling to save children in a trafficked world (just saw a job description for that) and then I felt like He said, “clean their room”.

Clean their room? I have asked them every day to make sure it is picked up. There are more clothes on the floor than in their closet and dresser combined.

Clean their room. Remind them of Jesus.

Sometimes I want to save the world and some pretty awesome little people get lost in translation. I can show the outside Jesus but the insiders need it more.

I remembered Jesus cleaned my mess. Messes I made intentionally. Messes I tried to hide.

At 15 I wanted to be a missionary. At 16 I took step after step off that narrow road. I was reminded of that this month with a speaker that was brought into the schools. As I watched teenagers flood the gym floor to get back on the narrow road, I fought back tears. I wanted to stand up and beg them to stay on there and don’t leave. It’s worth it.

I wasn’t going to clean under the bed. I thought they should at least do that.

Clean the hiding places.

He reminded me of a few summers ago as I sat outside at midnight. I had a book, a bible and alcohol. I was either going to get drunk and lost or we were going to clean out the hiding places. The places I stuffed those things I didn’t understand. The place we bandage the deep hurts, deep wounds, the cuts that keep bleeding.

I looked up and in the window sill was a picture of Lauren and Haley at the ages of three and two. We had family picture taken. It was Barney’s idea and I was fighting him on them. I didn’t want them. I just wanted the girls. I had no intentions of being family with him.

Jesus cleaned up my mess. He cleaned the places I was hiding.

I have never cleaned a messy bedroom with thankful tears before. I am not sure I have ever cleaned happy before.

That summer night God landed me on a passage. One I have heard many times before but that day it was a promise from him.

We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, who have been called according to his purpose ~ Romans 8:28

All the why’s of messes I made and the why’s of the messes that landed in my lap he promised to work them for good. Did I have consequences? Yes. Are they painful? Absolutely.

I began to pull them out one by one and hand them over to Him. Finally at 2 am, still sober (in case you’re stressing out) and extremely puffy eyed, I went to bed. The next day our Sunday School lesson was on holding onto bitterness and releasing forgiveness. I think it was just in case I thought he was kidding the night before.

I love how he writes stories. I can go back and read chapters and see his love in my mess and feel his grace in my chaos. He knows my heart can stray and he always leads me home.

I finished the girl’s room and I was pretty proud. We still need to figure out how to sort through all of the clothes and the shoes that don’t fit. It’s not completely done, like some chapters in my story. I thought the lesson was over as I carried the box of shoes and the basket of clothes to the laundry room. They were the unfinished things I would need the girls to tell what still fit.

Unfinished things. I had to set the basket down. This next step was rough.

Then I asked him when that chapter would finally be finished, the chapter started 15 years ago. The one with each one of her birthdays  (and it will be this week) reminds me of how much has been missed and so much has been lost. The one I thought by now would have started a new chapter.

He reminds me he is God. He can fix all things broken, all things lost, and messes that seem too big. He worked the other things in my life for good and he promises to continue.  His grace is sufficient for me. His timing is perfect. He's still writing that chapter. He still has a plan.

I didn’t know what to say to the girls. I didn’t want it to be about me cleaning the room. I just left a note on the door.

Jesus taught so many lessons through parables. He continues to teach me through my own story. May my story be a reminder of Jesus.  

Samaritan Road

His mug shot tagged on Facebook with comments trailing beneath and I felt my blood boiling. Words that stung deeply like “waste of breath”, jokes made about his past, his life, his horrible choices. Barney told me to put my phone down and not comment.  Unjust, judgmental, legalistic, better than you people make me want to knock heads together.  

The hurt go on hurting and the broken keep breaking. The cycle keeps turning and the lives still being lost and we look around and say, “but I am ok”, he’s the crackhead. He’s a waste of breath, waste of time. I once went to a funeral for a young man that died from weather conditions but those that knew him knew he had an addiction and he died alone, cold, in a park. As I walked to my car I heard a woman from the church tell a lady she was walking with, “What a waste”.

You are right, lady. You are a waste. You sit in the church like a bobble head, go to your car, eat your lunch and go on with life. I know. I do it too. I too am a waste of resources that I have been given. That young man was not a waste.

They were “those” people to me too, once. I sat at the funeral with my sister who had just overcome her own addiction and I wept. I didn’t really know him, she did. My heart ached so bad when I hugged that mother. I felt guilty. Why were we spared the devastation and she was not? I am writing this on my sister’s birthday. She’s married. She has 4 beautiful kids and a husband. It’s not the end of the story, it’s the beginning of another chapter.

I have been to too many funerals of lives taken too soon. I heard their stories. I saw their families devastated. I heard wonderful things they did but an addiction chained them to a life they never set out to live.  I vowed never to see them again as “those” people. They have a face, a name. That is someone’s son, daughter, sister, mother, and friend.

It’s been many years. I still cannot see them as a waste. I can only see them as a sister.  I stood in the gas station and watched the young man scramble through the store. He was nervous. He appeared to be high. I watched him for awhile and walked out to the car. Barney was outside talking. He talked forever and the young man didn’t come out. I got some money and went back in. I had seen the cashiers laughing at him when I left. I was worried he didn’t have enough money for his stuff. He was checking out when I got there. He was ok. I put the crumpled money in pocket and I prayed. I prayed for his mother, I prayed for his addiction, I prayed for his next move, I prayed for his life, I prayed that he would cross paths with someone that would take his broken life and put the pieces back together. I know that can only be Jesus. As we drove off I wondered if maybe I was to say something. I don’t know.  I can still see his sunken in cheeks and green hoodie pulled over his face and I pray.

Now an expert in religious law stood up to test Jesus, saying, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” ²⁶ He said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you understand it?” ²⁷ The expert answered, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.” ²⁸ Jesus said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”

²⁹ But the expert, wanting to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” ³⁰ Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him up, and went off, leaving him half dead. ³¹ Now by chance a priest was going down that road, but when he saw the injured man he passed by on the other side. ³² So too a Levite, when he came up to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³ But a Samaritan who was traveling came to where the injured man was, and when he saw him, he felt compassion for him. ³⁴ He went up to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. ³⁵ The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever else you spend, I will repay you when I come back this way.’ ³⁶ Which of these three do you think became a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” ³⁷ The expert in religious law said, “The one who showed mercy to him.” So Jesus said to him, “Go and do the same. – Luke 10

Jesus said this after he sent the seventy-two out two by two. I think God knew what he was doing when he put my sister and brother in law together. Two by two.  Her birthday is also her husband’s clean date. God knows what he is doing. Two by two.

I read a quote from Martin Luther King Jr. it says (my paraphrase), “The Samaritan did not say, like the priest and levite, what will happen to me if I help this man. Instead, he said what will happen to him if I don’t.” The Samaritan went on to take care of the beaten man on the side of the road and take care of his needs.

My sister and her husband have allowed addicts on the road to recovery to stay with them to get on their feet. Honestly, it has scared me. They are aware of dangers. They trust Jesus and take it serious when the Bible says to welcome strangers. They have given warm beds, warms meals and love. They have shown them that life with Jesus doesn’t mean it’s perfect. They didn’t beat them in the heads with a Bible. They built a relationship. One accepted Jesus as his savior recently and the other one began attending church when he was living on his own. One of the men wanted to know why they helped him and why people would be willing. Their answer. Jesus. I can't wait for you to hear them tell their story.

I know what Mercy feels like. I have been held by grace when I deserved so much worse. Who am I to deny it to someone because I don’t like their choices?

There’s a need here in our community.  I asked 200 people to raise their hands at a recent assembly at a school if they had a friend or family member that was struggling with a serious drug or alcohol addiction. I couldn’t count the sea of hands.

Do you know what do you get when you have Catholic Priest from Africa, a Methodist Pastor from Korea, a home church Pastor, Baptist Minister, Lutheran Pastor, two recovering addicts, two prevention specialists, and Christian Church preacher from Arkansas? This is not a joke. This is a ministry being formed right here in Doniphan County, Samaritan Road to Recovery.  We haven’t even made it to all of the churches yet.

We want to see how we as a church body can come together to be the Samaritan. Can we offer a ride, a cooked meal, help with a job application, and teach a skill. What does the cost of discipleship really look like? Does it cost money, interrupt our journey, or slow us down? Will it be messy? Probably. Will it be worth? Absolutely.

Can you imagine an army of mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, friends and family praying in churches across our community for the chains to be broken and lives to be restored? A day when we quit pretending things aren’t happening and tackle them head on. Families will walk in to church with the nakedness of their struggle and feel the warmth of their brothers and sisters believing with them in prayer. Church is not for the morally upright and well to do of our community. Church is for the broken and the sick to be brought to the feet of the one true healer. Jesus.

Many of us, as family members, have wounds and heartaches as our loved ones struggle with the addiction. You are not alone. My sister once told me I was annoying. I would wake up and be so broken all I could do was pray and call her number over and over. I would worry she was gone. I just wanted to hear her voice.  She said she couldn’t even do anything that night because of it. We want to pray with you, families. We know how scary it can be. We know the frustration.  

 It hurts not to be able to fix it. I know.

Many of us were raised that other churches were wrong. We want to argue over little things and discount the big things that matter. Jesus.  By taking the time to listen to the heart of these Pastors I have been blessed to meet, I hear Jesus. We may not worship the same way, we may not take communion the same day, but we believe that Jesus is the way.

"There is no life so wayward, no heart so hard, no soul so dark that it cannot be rescued by the love of Jesus." ~ Jim Morgan (lucky to call him my Pastor)

If we believe Jesus did what the Bible says he did, do what he said to do, and love like he called us we are brothers and sisters because of him. We are laying down our denominations and reaching out to the broken.

One of the Pastor’s said at a recent meeting, “If we don’t start working as a Body of Christ, other religions will do what we are called to do.” Amen.

My Sister and her husband.

 

 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.~ Jeremiah 29:11

Desperate for more of less

It started a few weeks ago with the realization that my oldest, Lauren, is in the eighth grade. That means I potentially have only four and three quarters years left with her. A tsunami of fear knocked me on my butt. Have I taught her everything she needs to know in our short time? All of my horrible mom moments flashed through my mind like the scariest movie I have ever seen. My phone buzzed with a message and I felt the tear roll down my face. That little black box has become my life. I have customer messages, workout messages, prayer requests, updates, email, my full-time job, and just plain nosey checking that I do personally.  My stomach hurts. My heart aches.  I pulled back immediately from the amount of time I spend with my little friend. I need to be present.

Fast forward a few weeks to Women of Faith. I cannot tell you how incredibly excited I was to hear my favorites, Christine Cain and Lysa Terkuerst. I was, of course, completely moved by both of them, but it was the one I hadn’t heard of before that rattled my inner being. She was speaking my language. Jen Hatmaker, I will never be the same. It’s even more amazing that you are originally from Kansas. Immediately I loved you. You began speaking about taking down the boundaries that keep us from loving others whether it is political differences, religious differences, socioeconomic differences…what if we just loved like Jesus.  When you were done I ran upstairs at looked at your book.  I was a little disappointed at first because it had to do with getting rid of excess. I was looking for a social justice book. Something in me said to grab it. I did. I got to meet you. Genuine. Sweet. Thank you for signing.  It took me two days and a bucket of tears but I finished it. Can you just punch me in the face now? Some moments I would get down on my knees and lay my head on the couch and cry. Lord, change me.

The book is called Seven An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker. She does a 7 month experiment to get rid of excess.

I want you to know with all of my heart that this is not about making you or I feel guilty. I was already feeling some conviction and a stir in me. If you know me, you know how restless I can get. You know I am looking for purpose, meaning, and for life to be full. I have tried to fill it with many things to be left empty and drained. Maybe, I need to be emptied and drained first so I can be filled. I have spent my whole life looking and it’s always been here.

A side note as to why Jen’s message was like the angels were singing “Ahh” while she talked. Thursday, before I left for Women of Faith, I had a meeting with some pastors and people close to me working on a ministry in my community. At the table we had four different churches represented with four different methods of worship. The common theme was hope for the broken.  The solution is Jesus through his people. There was joy, hope and unity. Boundaries were left at the door. This is a whole other blog coming soon. It’s still blowing my mind.  I cannot wait to tell you.

I am in month one of this book. It’s not a fast or a movement. It’s an honest, clear the clutter, help me to see, pause in my life.

I decided on Saturday nights, as a way for the family to be involved with me, we would pick a country or place to pray for. We would make their native food, read about their culture and barriers to hearing the gospel. In my mind it would be a glorious holy moment as a family. We would take the evening to pray for our fellow persecuted brothers and sisters, learn more than just the American way of church, and let God direct us in how he wants us to be his hands and feet.
Can I just tell you God is really dealing with my attitude when plans don’t go as I want?

Me: We are going to make food from Somalia, learn about their country and pray for the people.

Barney: couldn’t you pick somewhere like Mexico. I like Mexican food.

Me: Are you serious? I picked a country in the 10-40 window where they are unreached people (in rude annoyed tone of voice).

Barney: I didn’t understand I am sorry. You might want to get some chicken nuggets I don’t think the girls will eat locusts and stuff. I saw it on the documentary I watched. People in other countries eat that.

Me: It’s chicken and rice. This isn’t going to work.

Two hours later:

Barney: Haley’s volleyball team is going to have a bonfire tonight and she wants to know if her friend can spend the night. They won’t be here for dinner.

Me: (Extremely annoyed right now) Why am I even doing this if we can’t all be together.

Barney: I can tell her no.

Me: No, she made the tournament team she will be here next time (through annoyed angry almost tears).

I finally get all the food and get home. I had to face Wal-Mart on a Saturday. I had to keep telling myself not to make rude facial expressions or sigh at people who block the aisle. I was shopping for Jesus, so to speak. Wal-Mart can put me in a foul mood fast. In fact, Barney says I have to wear a Christian t-shirt so my attitude will be in check. Attitude is something I pray about a lot.

I ask the girls to help me cook. One is not in the mood. She gives me an excuse about how she hates to cook. Why can’t she go stay somewhere if her sister is going to be gone? (I am really losing my cool by now and tempted to throw all of that food in the trash).
Me: Why don’t you go stay with your friend? It would be better than dealing with your crappy attitude all night. I swear I don’t know why I plan anything.

Barney: Christi lets go feed your dad’s dog before it gets too late. You guys can calm down. You, (to our happy teenage daughter) better figure out what your problem is by the time we get back.

(I get it now that I think about it. I know she was tired. She babysat her younger sisters all day, cleaned the house and did two loads of laundry. Now I was asking her to hang out in the kitchen and cook where there would inevitably be more dishes. I am sure the two younger ones made messes faster than she could pick up. I didn’t say thank you before I asked her to come in and get dirty with me.)

We get to mom and dad’s house and I can’t remember the code to get in. I am really annoyed now. Barney starts punching buttons and I am afraid he will set the alarm off so I start bossing and nagging. He gets mad. I sit in car. Finally someone answers the phone so we can feed the dog and I can get the food processor. I get in the car to go home and realize we don’t have the right blade. Precious time is ticking away. It will be nine o’clock before we eat.  I am ready to order pizza and check facebook all night. These people and circumstances are getting on my last nerve.

Barney: It’s going to work out. You need to calm down. We will make it a good night.

Magic words of a loving dad are evident when I get home and he talks to my still in her room teenager. She comes out. We hug. We cook. We eat. We light candles. We pray. I cannot stop crying.

It turned into a beautiful evening. I tell you all of that to say, I am learning. I am learning that I have these beautiful “God” moments planned in my head. I want to create moments where we really see what God sees and pray for the things that break his heart. I also want my facebook friends to see that a picture on my wall doesn’t tell the full story. Yes, it was beautiful but it was a messy process to get there. We are human.

Our Pastor said we can have good marriages or we can have great marriages. We can be a good church or we can be a great church.  All I know is I am hungry for something different, something meaningful and I know, for me, it will only be found in what Jesus calls us to do. I have to get out of the way. I have to quit striving for “things” and stay desperate for him.  

This world will try to stop us. We have so many things going on. We have emotions and irritating conversations. We have to be purposeful. We have to keep going the course. It was a simple dinner plan and had I let my emotions rule, we would have had pizza and missed the beauty. I want to be intentional about creating these moments with my girls and Barney. I want us to know and remember that so many people don’t have the simple things we take for granted.

As I try to live out the concepts of this book for the next seven months I realize I am not in a test group at NASA in a controlled environment. I am at home with real people and real life. If I am going to clear the clutter from my life, seek His purpose, and love like Jesus. I have to be willing to roll with the punches, check my own attitude and keep pressing on.  He said when I was at the end of my rope he’d be there.  I am so glad he sticks closer than a brother. I need it.

 

Somewhere between Grace and Obedience I learned

 

Everything is permissible but not everything is beneficial. The thing I don’t want to do I keep doing. These are part of verses in the Bible. Some of the permissible things have gotten me into trouble doing the thing I don’t want to do anymore. It’s a vicious cycle spinning out of control. I slammed on the brakes. I decided to walk the line. I decided obedience would pull me together. I just needed to follow the rules. I can do this. I had been hearing sermons on submission, maybe I needed more of that in my life. Yet, it didn’t feel right.

  I hear a sermon. Grace. I read a devotion. Grace. I hear a song. Grace. I see a post on Facebook. Grace. Ok, I get it but I am not asking for a get out of jail free card.

Yesterday I put my head down on the table and just prayed.

“Lord, please show me what Grace is. I want to be obedient too. I need direction.”

At that moment I remember Peter jumped off the boat and swam to Jesus. The shame of the denial washed away as he dove in and swam to the shore. A story God had used several years ago to pick me up and dust me off.

 Don’t know the story? I’ll tell you. Peter was called by Jesus as a fisherman to be his disciple. Peter walked with Jesus, ate with Jesus, watched his many miracles, yet he denied he ever knew Jesus that Good Friday when he was beaten and hung on the cross. Jesus had already told him he would.

He said, “by the time the rooster crows you will deny me three times.” Peter did just that. As soon as that rooster crowed Peter knew what he had done.  I can understand the shame he felt.

Sometimes my life looks like one big denial. I feel like a phony. I love Jesus and do the stupidest things. The enemy says, “See, you aren’t called. You messed up.”

Peter went back to fishing. I wonder how many times he thought he blew it. Did he scold himself at night when put his head on his pillow or cry himself to sleep? Did he feel worthless in Kingdom of God? Do you feel disqualified for the team? 

Peter tells the other disciples he’s going fishing. I wonder if the decided he was just going to be a fisherman now. They want to go with him. After they have been fishing all night and catch nothing, someone calls out from the shore to cast the net on the other side.  Immediately the net is full.

“Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, ‘It is the Lord!’ As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, ‘It is the Lord,’ he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water. The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards.” - John 21:7-8

Did you dive for your one chance to be alone with him and tell him you are sorry? Peter, could you see through the tears as you swam to the shore?

Then when they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these do?” He replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus told him, “Feed my lambs.” ¹⁶ Jesus said a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus told him, “Shepherd my sheep.” ¹⁷ Jesus said a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was distressed that Jesus asked him a third time, “Do you love me?” and said, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.” Jesus replied, “Feed my sheep.

Here’s the cool part. Jesus, not too long before that, told Peter, “And I tell you that you are Peter^, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it”.  Do you know who feeds sheep in the church? The Pastor.

Jesus never quit seeing Peter, in the midst of his failure, as he had already called him.

Christi, there’s my Grace for you. I wept.  The tether around me loosened. He chose me, he picked me, he loved me, he found me, and he called me. He took all of my sin and he declared me justified. He gave me his desires. It doesn’t mean I don’t have my own desires I struggle with but his kindness leads me to repentance.

I want to obey because I love him. I follow him because I love him. I listen (submit) because I trust him. I get to go to work with my Father because he loves me.  I may wander and stray but his grace keeps me.  My ministry isn’t a pulpit; it’s his grace that allows me to share my story that points to him. His grace empowers me to do more than I could ask or think. I don’t have to worry about tomorrow because he shows up. He’s faithful. He’s going to finish what he started in me.

For I am sure of this very thing, that the one who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6-7

I raise my white flag. I surrender to your grace.

 

This song gets me every time.

 

http://youtu.be/722zPX1npcA

 

Grass is Greener Where You Water It

 

A few months ago I was lying  on my bed checking emails on my phone when Barney came in. He climbed up next to me and said, “We have two choices.”

“I sure hope you are going to elaborate so I don’t pick the wrong one here.”

Long sigh. He’s got my attention. I am assuming it has to do with money so I am already annoyed and defensive.

“We can either call it quits or do this book together.” He holds up the Love Dare book. I bought it right after we watched the movie.  He didn’t have any interest in doing it back then.

I said to myself, “Ok, Christi, now is not the time to be the uber smart-aleck I told you so nagger that you can be.” So I answered, “I am in”. 

I wish the rest of this blog was – And we finished the book and lived happily ever after.

I think we quit on the third week with the book being launched across the bedroom and the lights shut off. I found it Saturday, cleaning under my bed. I sat down with it and smiled. Fourteen years and we are still as passionate as day one. We are either passionately in love or passionately homicidal (kidding). Anything in between and we get bored. You wanna make out or irritate each other.

This is us.

Our parenting style is different. I am a say it twice and you’re lucky, third time there is no such thing as luck. Barney is laid back and if he has to put up a fight he will just do it himself. This can kick up some lovely debates. He thinks I get upset too quick and I want to put a little flame in his seat. 

The other day, in one of my challenge groups my friend, Laura, posted a photo. It said “The Grass is Greener where you water it.” It’s a health challenge and we are talking about taking care of our bodies. It hit me pretty hard. I quickly pushed the thought out of my head and moved on.

Lately, I will be thinking and I will hear that again, “The grass is greener where you water it.”

I watch the Real Housewives. It’s the only show I watch (strange addiction). I was watching my show last night after everyone had gone to bed and again, “The grass is greener where you water it.”

I hear you, Lord. I was thirty minutes in to my favorite show when God asked me to go pray for Barney while he slept. I did. Recently we haven't been communicating nicely. A little dig here and there and you're digging a big hole in between you.

As I was lying there, I remembered one of the activities we did in the Love Dare book was to write down all the faults your mate had. I could only think of four. You wouldn’t know that by the way I can nag and talk. You would think I thought he couldn’t do anything. I filled the whole sheet up with what he does right. I remember that powerful reminder of why I love this guy so much.

You don’t share the faults with them in the activity. We were supposed to burn them. I had left mine folded up on the coffee table and one of my brutally honest loving children said, “Hey mom you have more faults than this”. I am so glad they learned to read in school.

“Thanks, but those are your dads.” I am definitely not doing the Love Dare challenge with that kid.

I remembered last night that during these last few weeks where we have been fire and ice that my grass will always be brown unless I water it. Greener yards are just a mirage, I know. You get there to find the sand in your mouth and the burn on your back.

Some yards look well kept. The flowers are always in bloom and the weeds never grow. You get to know them and you learn they once had a sink hole. They had to shovel and fill and water to build their yard.

The Grass is Greener where you water it. I hear you, Lord. Help me to water my grass and not trample it beneath my feet or by the words of my mouth.

In Hosea Chapter 2, Gomer, the prostitute that God told Hosea to marry, runs back to her old lifestyle. She runs after her lovers that give her food and drink and olive oil. The oil drys up and the figs wither. Her jewels are taken and she has forgotten Hosea.

Hosea and Gomer already had children and the Lord told them to name them Lo-Ruhamah (which means not loved) and Lo-Ammi (not my people). Israel had been unfaithful to the Lord, they had watered other grass. Though they thought his anger would burn against them, he shows them through Hosea and Gomer his pursuit of us. I have shared this before, but I love that picture of God coming after us. My dad used to play this song when we were kids called “When God Ran”. It’s a song of the prodigal son:

He ran to me,
Took me in His arms, held my head to His chest
And said "My son's come home again".
Looked in my face, wiped the tears from my eyes
With forgiveness in His voice
He said "Son, do you know I still love you?"

It caught me by surprise when God ran

Hosea, like God, goes after her and leads her to the wilderness to speak tenderly to her. He gives her back her vineyards and the Lord makes it the Valley of Hope.

I felt like I wasn’t suppose to post this the other day. I let it sit. I went to bed last night and I couldn’t sleep. I suddenly remembered that Barney once pursued me like this. I was 22 with two toddlers at home. We had been married three years. I got married at the age of 19 and loved Barney very much. At that time there was a lot against us.  Heartbreaking circumstances we went through made me feel alone. I felt like the public spectacle and the loss was harder than I ever imagined. (That’s another blog, another day)  The one person that understood my pain was also the one person I laid all the blame on. Barney was a new Christian. I grew up in the church. I understood morals, right and wrong and broke a lot of the rules. I had never allowed myself to be embraced by grace. I ran. I spit in the face of everything we promised each other and tried everything possible to shut the door.

I went to a co-workers going away party after work. Barney worked nights and my brother in law and his girlfriend at the time watched my kids. I passed out in a yard and my friend took me to her house to sleep it off. I woke up in the middle of the night with Barney at the door telling me it was time to go home.

“What’s the baseball bat for,”  I asked him.

“In case I needed it.”

I remember Barney praying a lot back then. I thought his open Bible in the living room was a self-righteous ploy.  I was mean. I had turned my back on everything that I knew and he refused to give up on me. Refused.

He finally talked me into marriage counseling. I think it was my dad, actually. I didn’t want anyone to think I didn’t try. Six weeks we sat in marriage counseling and let me tell you it wasn’t a bunch of how does he make you feel and lets learn to communicate stuff. It was this is what the Bible says. This is what  a wife is. This is what a husband is. This is not easy and no I don’t care what he did and I don’t care what she did.

I remember our final day. I was still a hardened stone of a person. Pastor Stone told us God had a plan. He was going to pray and fast for us. One thing made me laugh, he told us not to give him a gift when it worked out, just a card or let him know. I thought Dude, you’re gonna starve before I stay and why would I give you a gift. God won’t forgive me for this and I am already gone.

I woke up a few weeks later, completely broken. It’s like the light switch had come on and I could see everything I was about to throw away.

Pastor Stone lived forty miles away. He was pumping gas at Casey’s in Wathena, where we lived. I walked over to him and said, “Thank you, Pastor Stone, we made it.”

I am a believer in prayer and fasting by the way.

And I am thankful that Barney watered our grass. He tended it to it every day and Lord the was faithful.

 

And  the Lords promise to us in Hosea is:   

 “In that day I will respond,” declares the Lord – I will respond to skies and they will respond to earth; and the earth will respond to grain, the new wine and the olive oil and they will respond to Jezreel. I will plant her for myself  in the land; I will show my love to the one I called ‘Not my loved one’. I will say to those called, Not my People, ‘You are my people’, and they will say, You are my God.

I know I have used this scripture before. I know the running theme may be getting old for some. The enemy wants us to quit. He whispers reasons in our ears, begs us to hang on to hurts, seeks revenge and not forgiveness. He sells it in a pretty package that you deserve. It's not just marriages. The grass is greener where you water it may mean your home, your church, your job, your friendships, wherever you are called.

Barney asked if I was sure I wanted to share. I am sure. Every time God places a dream in my heart or an opportunity at the door, the enemy threatens to tell who I really am.  I will tell you. I am forever wrapped in the arms of grace, forgiven by the one who bore my sins, and he knows every past mistake and he knows the ones I continue to make. He knows there’s someone out there who thinks their marriage, their hope, their life is ruined. It’s not. He makes all things new. He’s the fixer of the broken, redeemer of the lost, hope for the forgotten and he neither sleeps nor slumbers and when he sees you coming back from afar off He will run to you.

So I share my testimony (testimonies – there’s a lot)

And they overcame him because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony, and they did not love their life even when faced with death.- Revelation 12:11

                                                          He gives us beauty for ashes.

 

Life Lesson from Marathon Training

To get where you want you have to do things you don’t like

I don’t like running but I wanted to run a Marathon. I don’t mind running but if I had to choose between running and another workout, running normally doesn’t win. We ran a half marathon 6 years ago. We trained to run with a group of people thinking we were training for a marathon. Mom and I found out later it was only a half but we had trained up to 18 miles. So I knew it was possible. I just couldn’t muster up the nerve to put myself through that. This year my phrase was Do Hard Things. It’s a Hard Thing I wanted to do. It was on my bucket list. I decided it was now or never.

There are goals we set in life and its the day to day training that gets us there. I couldn't jump in a race and decide to run 26.2 miles. I had to be consistent with my training. I had to show up for the grunt work to get the to the finish line. The photos of race finishers are inspiring. There's hoopla around a race. There's no one cheering you on during the training. You are doing it rain, snow and humidity. You do it because you know what the pay off is.

In finances we don't buy what we can't afford. In relationships we apologize and forgive when we don't want to. In health we do the workout and make healthy choices to reach our goal. In the end it pays, we pay off debt, have better marriages, have better health.

Our first training day!

 

Not everybody is rooting for you. Smile, nod, move on.

I know. Can you believe that? We all have a desire or a passion to do something and I have found that we need to be careful about who we share our dreams with. There are dream killers out there. You share your goal and they email you all the things that could go wrong. You could die. Marathoners die. You won’t lose any more weight. You will lose all of your muscle tone. It’s really not good for your heart. It kills your immune system. Why would you want to do that? I actually had a customer email me and tell me not to get bombed.

I don’t think it’s that they don’t want you do succeed or do well, they just don’t want you to do more than them. You begin to climb the ladder and they grab your ankles. Shake ‘em off and keep climbing. Some people live in an constant state of “life sucks”. You can sit on that bench with them. It’s your dream. It’s your goal. Keep going. My favorite quote by John Maxwell is "Sometimes you Win and Sometimes you learn." You will never know what you are capable of until you try. You can't sit on the sidelines forever and you can't let other peoples opinions keep you from trying. So what, you fail, they laugh. Try again.

What’s hard today will be easy later.

Our first long run was 5 miles. Our short run at the end was 6 miles. Every long run hurt but the next week in only felt hard after we passed the previous week’s mileage. I think that’s why we give up on our goals so soon. It’s too hard. It’s too much time. It’s seems so far away. If we kept going every time we wanted to quit we’d be there- Finances, Faith, Marriage, Fitness…whatever. It doesn’t get easier. You get better. We are constantly looking at the distance of the Finish line and not seeing how much we can close the gap by doing a little more today. You won't lose 50 pounds in a week, pay off you mortgage in a month, or train for a marathon in one either. You can break it off in small goals and push yourself every day to get there. Once you gain momentum in your goals, you will be unstoppable. Do it today. Do it tomorrow. Repeat.

Attitude Matters-Quitting can’t be an option

The days I showed up with a good attitude I ran better. The days we showed up giving each other dirty looks the run was hard. Our last 20 miler was hard. It was a hot humid day. We were used to cool and cloudy. We went through twice the amount of water as usual. At mile 15 one of us ended up crying on the road and the other one cussing innocent Yorkie dogs. We had to regroup. We had five miles left to go and it took some deep digging and a few dirt stained tear streaks to get to the end.  It was tough, I began to wonder if I could really pull off 26.2 miles. I was discouraged.  Mom was discouraged. We kept reminding ourselves we ran 20 miles before and we did fine. That one bad run, just about sent us to the chicken exit.

I had a really bad attitude during miles 3-11 of the actual marathon. They were supposed to have a Port-a-Potty at several stops. I’ve had four kids.  It was mile 11 before I found a bathroom. I was thinking about my survey for the last 5 of those. I was going to let them know how hard it is to run without a bathroom and rude it was to think we would want to pee on the side of a busy highway. I was praying that I wouldn’t pee my pants and planning to call Barney to bring me clean ones if I did. I was getting grouchier by the minute.  The lady at the first bathroom in 10 miles said the delivery guys over slept and they were very sorry about the restroom situation. My attitude was wound up over something out of their control.

How many times do we do that in life, in relationships, in work. One bad run and you’re done. Focus on the good runs, the good in people, the good in your day to day. Stop putting Quit on the table as an option. Seek the truth and answers before filling out your mental survey on someone. There just may be a reason for the madness.

I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength

Both books I read and all my runner friends said to trust the training. We will make it 26.2 miles. Trust the training. On Marathon day we had only run 20 miles. We were going to have to run 6.2 more miles. I had to push that out of my head a dozen times and keep telling myself to trust the training.  Miles 21-23 were tough. There was a moment when I didn’t think I could make it. My legs were sore, my hips hurt, and I wasn’t sure if I had feet anymore.

“Lord, help me” was what I prayed over and over. “Please get us to the end”.  He did. At times I felt waves of relief and bursts of energy, and I felt him telling us we were going to make it. It was during those last few miles I began to discuss these lessons I learned with him.

He gives us training to run our race. My race looks different than yours. You might finish your race in the time it takes me to run half of mine. We rounded mile 13.1 as one of the runners finished his 26.2. We cheered him on too.  I may run awkwardly and slow and someone else has speed and grace. I have bad training days and attitudes to overcome. He may call me to do things and go places I don’t want to go, but he says to trust the training. We win this race.

Crossing the Finish Line!

I can’t begin to describe the feeling of seeing mile marker 26 and rounding that last corner to see all of our family members standing with matching shirts and signs. The tears rolled. They knew how hard we had trained, how many hours we put into this, they endured our bad days, lost socks, blisters, and aches too.  I couldn’t help but think of the day I cross the ultimate finish line and an army of saints and angels that have gone on before me, will cheer us to the end. They will know the trials we faced, the hills we climbed, the failures we faced.  There won’t be a guy at the end with a medal and congratulations. When I stay the course and run the race I will hear the Savior say, “Well done thy good and faithful servant".  It will make every training run, every hill, every blister, every ache worth the training.

Our shirts said:

 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful. 1 Timothy 4:7

It’s my prayer.