For the Runners and Walkers, the Bikers and Hikers, and of course, the Sitters, Knitters, and Quilters

happy freakin' weekend, sweetest friends.  It's a beautiful day outside, and I'm happy to be alive -- exhausted, somewhat overwhelmed, emotional but so incredibly blessed.  I hope yall had such great Spring Breaks and Easter holidays and whatever else you've been celebrating recently -- birthdays, marriages, anniversaries, engagements, all the above!  Last night, we celebrated our last Theta date party for the semester (and my college experience -- ahhh)!  It was so fun, and a great one to end on.  I seriously cannot believe that a mere three weeks from today I will be an official college graduate.  Honestly it kind of makes me want to say some choice words that are probs not blog appropriate, so we'll just limit it to ... what the heck!!?

In a few weeks when it's all said and done, I have great intentions of spending lots of time in prayer, reflecting over all of the lessons the Lord has so graciously taught me in college and posting a few of them on the good, old blog.  This is because recently I've found myself saying quite frequently, "If only I would have known then what I know now..."  And lemme tell ya, now I don't even know much at all, but ohhhh the things I have learned the past four years.  But whatever little wisdom I do have, if I can share it with someone and it might save him or her some pain -- Praise Jesus!

But for the time being, I feel so compelled to give glory to my Father in heaven and share with yall a little bit about what the Lord has so relentlessly been putting on my heart.  Know I say relentlessly because it takes me about 39,384,729,813,984,023 times to learn things, so He has to be relentless.  Praise Jesus that He never gives up on us.  He's my hero.

Here it goes!  Okay so almost five-ish months ago, I decided it would be a good idea to run the Oklahoma City Marathon.  I don't run.  I mean I do, but I'm not a runner.  I wasn't born to run, so to speak.  In fact, had someone told me a year ago I would be running 26.2 miles, I would have said, there's no way in hell.  Literally, no way.  Hard as I try, I could never do that.

It's funny to look back because I think I originally wanted to train for the marathon because I knew it would force me to be disciplined in keeping my body healthy.  There were other motives mixed in there like wanting to look good (just being honest), probably because it sounded cool and I struggle with always wanting to win the approval and affection of others (again very transparent), and to glorify the Lord.  But in all seriousness, seeking to glorify the Lord was not my whole-heart motivation.

But here's what I've found throughout the course of the past however many weeks that have been tainted with faithfulness and unfaithfulness on my part.  When it comes to the big things in life, there are no worldly factors motivating enough to get me to the end.  No amount of people telling me that I look good or saying, "Wow, that's awesome! You're so cool..." or whatever people say to marathon runners or people who do crazy, intense things would give me enough strength or comfort or joy or calm my nerves in a way powerful enough to get me through to the very end.  With those things alone, I couldn't do it.  I can't do it just by that motivation.  I've tried, and I fail miserably every single time.  The path gets longer and longer with no end in sight.

But there is something that does enable me to do it.  And it's not something, it's SOMEONE and His name is Jesus.  It is by His grace, His unmerited favor and love and strength and power and mercy that I can run not only the marathon but the entire journey of life.  It is only when I surrender and admit that I have nothing to offer -- that even my best efforts or best intentions which are often pursued in pride or in vain. It's only when I eat my humble pie and say, "Lord, I have not given this my best effort.  In fact, lemme just tell you, there is nothing in me that wants to run 12 miles tomorrow or 18 for that matter.  I'm weak.  I'm tired.  I don't feel good.  And honestly, I doubt whether or not I really can do it.  I know you're enough, but look at me.  I can't do it."

And literally guys, I'm brought to tears and have chills all over my body because Jesus looks at my fragile, clay self and says, Fix your eyes on me.  Your strength comes from my grace.  I am with you always.  You can't do it alone.  Rely on me.  Depend on me.  Know that I am enough.  I AM ENOUGH.  I bore the sins of the world on my shoulders.  There's nothing you can do to make me love you more, and there's nothing you can do to make me love you less.  You have my complete approval. You have my heart forever.  Every morning you wake up, I can't wait to bless you.  I can't wait for you to walk outside and see the trees and the flowers I grew just for you -- just so you would know how much you mean to me.  I'm not going to leave you to run the marathon on your own, are you kidding me?  I'm literally going to be with you every step of the way.  You will not be defeated.  No weapon formed against you will remain because I WILL FIGHT FOR YOU.  I will run with you.  I have always been with you and will always be with you.  I will hold you and support you with my victorious right hand.  Don't begin doubting whether or not you're going to make it to the end.  Again I say, FIX YOUR EYES ON ME, the author and perfecter of the faith who can't wait to heal you, help you, and supply your every need.  You are weak, but I am strong.  Rely on me.  Run in faith.  Run in faith and do not doubt for a second whether or not you'll finish because you will.  I will run with you.  And if you fall, I will carry you.

You see, I am rather independent.  I like to do things on my own.  I don't like to be tied down to other people or commitments, to be honest -- it's not particularly a good thing, but it's true.  And my selfish, sinful nature hates the idea of having to have someone carry me to the finish line or through life.  It says, "I want to do it on my own, and I can because I'm strong enough.  And I can do it."  But guys, I can't.  I can't do it on my own.

In John 15, it is written that Jesus said, "Apart from me you can do nothing."

I can't.

I can't do anything apart from Jesus.  Granted, I try sometimes, but the fact of the matter is I can't.

But relentlessly faithful in character, He says again...

Walk in faith.  Walk in faith, believing I will provide for you, not because you did anything to deserve my provision.  Not because you trained well or  represented me well for the kingdom of heaven but because of who I am.  I will be faithful to you ALWAYS.  You are precious to me.  I have loved you with an everlasting love.  No, you didn't do anything to deserve my love or to win my affections, you simply have it -- always and forever.  Don't just let me run with you.  Let me carry you.  Not only in the marathon but in every area of your life.  Fall into my arms.  Take the burdens off your back and lay them at my feet.  Take my yoke upon you, and in that I mean that I want you to trust me.  I will not simply light your path, I will go and prepare the path before you.  Believe in me.  Have faith that I am who I say I am... that I will never leave you or forsake you.  

Strength, love, kindness, mercy, friendships, family -- they're all grace gifts from God.  We have done nothing to deserve the blessings around us -- the trees, the stars, the smell of the air after the rain (I sound so earthy right now, I know).  But we haven't.  We must admit that we're weak -- admit that it is only by God's grace that we can and will make it through this life.  And it's not like he's just waiting at the finish line, cheering us on from heaven, He's running with us every step of the way.  May we BELIEVE it.  May we live it.  We never have to be afraid of the seemingly insurmountable obstacles ahead of us.  Because we know that no matter what is ahead, no matter what's inside of us, no matter what dire constraints we're in the middle of, He who is in you is greater than He who is in the world.  We have been given everything we need for life and godliness.  His promises are our shield and our protection forever.

May we STAND to see the SALVATION of the LORD in EVERY SITUATION, trusting that the battle is not ours but His.  We have victory in and through Christ ALONE.  May we take refuge in His protection and believe that HE WILL FIGHT FOR US -- not because of anything we have to offer Him or could offer Him -- but simply because of who He is and His deep, deep love for us.

Whether we're walking or running or biking or hiking or sailing or sitting or knitting, may we enter into all situations unafraid, confident, and REJOICING from the beginning because of how incredible our heavenly Father is.  And just to be honest and transparent in wrapping all this up if it hasn't been clear, I have messed up so many times in training for the marathon.  I haven't run as much as I should have.  I haven't eaten as healthy as I should have.  I've lacked lots of motivation on days.  I've been fearful and weary.  But Jesus doesn't care.  He knows my weaknesses.  And I BELIEVE and STAND ON THE TRUTH because of His gracious, unfailing, faithful, loving character, He's going to do it with me anyway.  And by His grace we will finish with VICTORY!  That truth isn't just true for me... It's true for all of us who relinquish control of our lives to our great and victorious God.  The battle has already been won.  

glory HALLELUJAH, JESUS!

For the Hypochondriacs

Oh my sweet sisters who suffer from the disease -- yes I said it, I know you just cringed at the word -- of hypochondria, how I feel your pain.  Perhaps this captivating fear is a recent occurrence in your life, or maybe it's been following you for years.  I would say the beginning of my hypochondria set in around 7th grade.  It's true.

I'm sure some of you will be able to relate.  It was nearing winter-time, so as most lovely mothers do around that particular time of year, mine made a big pot of chili for our fam.  Chili is her specialty, so of course I was quite thrilled to indulge -- I was the "eater" child in our family.

Just call me Rolly like the puppy from 101 Dalmatians... "I'm hungry, Mother, I'm hungry."

Needless to say, I'm sure I ate what was quite a generous helping.  I don't quite remember the details in this mix, but I do vividly remember feeling a burning sensation in my chest after consuming that scrumptious bowl of winter wonder.

Chest burning...  Immediate thoughts... "Heart attack.  Must be caused by my recent inactivity.  It's been so cold outside, I haven't played recently.  That must be it.  All those commercials that I've seen -- people take Asprin when they're having a heart attack.  Bayer Asprin.  God must have been showing those to me so I would know what to do in this exact moment.  But I'm only 13, and I hear Asprin is lethal for those of us in our preteen years.  Oh what a predicament I am in..."  Little did I know there was a little thing they like to call "heart burn..."  How much worry that sweet fact would have saved me...

Or perhaps it began in my younger years around age 7 when I suddenly felt stomach pains while on a shopping trip with my mommy and grandmother.  What was the cause?  Pregnancy.  Yep, I was convinced I was pregnant at age 7 -- one heck of a virgin birth that would have been...

Anyway, I say all of that to tell you that my fears of disease have decreased a bit over the years, but last weekend I admit, my fears flared up once again.  You see, I had been feeling an interesting itch in my throat.  I tried to ignore it, I did.  I tried to convince myself I was only allergic to some pollen floating in the air, but the fear kept creeping up -- it could be throat cancer.  Or what if it was a severe case of strep throat?  One can never tell.  Those things can set in quickly, and then you never know what can happen.  It could have burned a hole in my throat or something -- never to have allowed me to swallow again, resulting in me being hospitalized for life and being fed by a tube for the remainder my days.  No marriage.  No children.

After a long debate, I decided a doctor visit was necessary.

I'm sure physicians try to exude only the most joyous of sentiments in their pristinely cleaned offices, but let's just be honest.  Every time I walk into a medical center of sorts, my heart starts racing so quickly it's as if I'd been proposed to by my future husband.  (Let it be known the dichotomy between the feelings that go along with proposals and doctors visits could not be more drastic, but the thought of both do make my heart race at a rather rapid rate.)  As I walked in, I tried to remain calm.

"They're just normal people," I tried to tell myself.  But there it was, that underlying fear inside of me shouting, "Ya, they may just be people, but they're people who about to tell you all the things that could possibly be malfunctioning within your many organs...  BE AFRAID.  BE VERY AFRAID."

What the heck, stupid fear?  GET OUT OF MY WAY.  Nonetheless, I let it reign over my life in that moment -- silly me.  The nurse called me to the back to take my blood pressure -- read all my vitals.  So like I normally do when very nervous, I proceeded to chat the individual's ear off.  "Yes, just so you know, I really fear this machine.  I hate the feeling of it cinching around my arm -- it feels like it will never let go.  It will though.  I'm sure.  Right?"

"Yes, ma'am.  Hmmmm, that reading can't be right.  Let's try again...  Just relax."

Thoughts: Oh okay!  Relax!  I would have DONE that if I COULD, so my vitals wouldn't freak out and make you tell me I have high blood pressure or something that will result in a life full varying blood pressure medications and thousands of rounds of visits to the doctor's office.  But the cinching FRIGHTENS ME.

(Just like tanning beds -- what if they get stuck and you can't get out.  Then they'd have to call the fire department and some man with some power tool will have to come pry me out only to find my naked body torched by hideous fake heat and UV rays.  One can only hope I'd make it and not die from encroaching anxiety of thinking of power tools coming so close to my bare skin.  Heavens to betsy!!)

Then began the questioning ... Did I drink?  Smoke?  Sexually active?  No, no, no -- all fine and dandy, but what does this have anything to do with the yellow snot coming out of my nose, thank you very much?  I tell you, I'm really not sassy in real life, but medical situations whip that sass right out of me.

The nurse left, and there I was -- alone in that, what I would assume to be, germ-infested little room.  Can I just say terrifying?  What if the patient before me had TB?  Or some strange skin disease only known to small countries like Qatar or Bahrain?  (I just took a quiz on the Middle East, that's why I say those countries... I'm sure they don't have random skin diseases, I just have the Middle East on the mind... Promise... I love the Middle East!  I might go to Yemen this summer!)

Sorry, I know I need to cut to the chase... I digress...

The doctor soon arrived.  She discussed my symptoms and after reviewing my nostrils, ears and throat, determined I had it was "viral".

"Viral?  I'm sorry, as in a virus??  As in contagious?  I'm contagious??"

She laughed.  If nothing else, at least my crazy hypochondria brought joy to the life of another human being.  "Well, it is contagious like a cold."

"Okay.  So what do you recommend, Doc?"  (Just kidding, I didn't say "doc" -- just felt like it was fitting.)

"Well, I can give you a shot, that's what most patients prefer."

"A shot?  Like in my arm, right?"

"Yes, I will send the nurse right in."

I'm alone again.  A shot -- I can do this.  It's just a shot.  I don't mind them.  All of the sudden the nasty, new "Shots" song by LMFAO and Lil Jon infiltrated my mind.  Of course, I feel as though they are not referring to shots of a differing kind of "medical healing" than the common Tetanus or Yellow Fever...  Nonetheless, it heightened my insecurity about the whole ordeal all the more.

Suddenly the nurse opened the door.  "Alright, now you're going to need to bend over.  This will go in your bottom."

I almost started laughing.  I thought she was joking.

Silence

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression this would be going in my arm."

"Impossible.  All adult shots go in the bottom."

"Well, in that case, I feel like I will just go with a prescribed medication.  Thanks."

Then I felt guilty.  I didn't want her to feel bad about herself.  It wasn't her -- actually it kind of was.  If she would have been a bit more joyful and understanding about the whole shot thing, I may have been inclined to get the shot.  But no.  I was too overwhelmed by the booming voice and long needle in hand. It is okay though.  I survived.

And now seven days later, I'm feeling quite better!  Praise the Lord.  All the glory and honor to Him -- for reals!  He is so good to love me unconditionally despite my many inadequacies -- and when I say many, I mean it, there are a lot of them.  I hope this little tale comforted those of you who also fear disease and the doctor's office alike.  Or perhaps just brought some laughter to those of you who found this account of my reality ridiculously hilarious.

There's more of that to come.