More Than Sweat

My alarm drags me out of a pleasant sleep that seems like it took forever to even fall into.  I hit the snooze button, just in case, but am already rubbing my eyes and stretching, quietly grumbling about morning coming too soon.

The truth is, I don't have to get out of bed this morning as the sun is also rising.  I would much rather remain warm and cozy under blankets than feel my feet hit a chilly wood floor.  Yet I get up, grabbing a pile of clothes and heading into the bathroom to change.

I leave the house, re-tie a shoe when I get to the end of the driveway, and immediately start quickly walking...in part to warm up my cold muscles but also to meet my friend, Carrie, who has already turned the corner we were supposed to meet at and is walking my way.

She suggests a different route than what we had talked about, and I agree because it's actually a favorite of mine, although I haven't traveled it in almost a year.  We walk to a corner before breaking into a run.

Running.  For so long I identified with the joke, "If I ever had to run for my life, I would die."  I wasn't athletic growing up.  Clumsy, yes.  Coordinated...not so much.  Seriously.  I twisted my ankle after youth group in high school on the sidewalk.  My only broken bone happened while I was in middle school.  It was a rib I broke while sneezing.  Pure athletic talent, right?

So when I decided a few years ago that I wanted to start running, it was a slow and inconsistent thing.  I didn't have anyone I was running with so there was no motivation.  Then last spring I kind of freaked out about running by myself and asked Carrie if she wanted to join me.

There was a long and hesitant pause on the other end of the phone.  I told her we could walk instead.  I just wanted to be out getting some kind of physical activity.  She agreed to that, and surprised me days later when she said she would be interested in working up to running.  Working between the C25K program and another program laid out in the book, "Running Made Easy," we took off.

We ran through the spring, summer, fall, and beginning of winter, until illness, harsh weather, and crazy schedules inched in.  I was surprised the first time we ran while the snow was falling lightly - I had never run in cold weather before, and surely not snow!

As spring has found its way back into Michigan, slowly, Carrie and I have started meeting up to run again.  She had continued running over the winter and I told Tim that I had to laugh when, starting back into it, I realized we had reversed roles from the previous April.  Instead of me encouraging her to go just a little further and letting her know what a great job she was doing, she was doing it for me!  I had definitely gotten out of shape, but at the same time it was kind of like riding a bike, my body wanted to run and seemed to pick it back up easier than I thought it would.

This morning she really pushed me.  We've been doing maybe around 2 1/2 miles and yesterday she said, "Hey, why don't we go a bit longer tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I was thinking it would be nice to get three miles in," I answered back.

"Or maybe four," she suggested.  "We can always take walk breaks."

"What?!  Who are you??" I didn't know how to answer.  I don't even know if we had gotten up to 4 miles when we were running together before.  "Sure.  I'll definitely need to walk a bit, though."

"No problem," she said cheerfully.

Miles 2-3 were the most challenging for me.  I was pushing myself further than I had in months.  Suddenly, an idea came to my head.  We had been talking about concerns in our lives and I asked if she wanted to pray about them.  So we spent that time praying out loud for each other and for our kids and friends and whatever came to mind.  We thanked God for a beautiful morning, the opportunity to be outside running, and healthy bodies.  That distance may have ended up being the easiest one for me in the end.

By that time we had decided to push ourselves a little further.  Actually, I should say that I stopped resisting Carrie gently pushing me.  She's a beast and has been training for her first 10K (see, I've created a monster!) so she is used to these longer runs.

From 4 to just over 4.5 miles, we talked about what running has meant to us.  She talked about how it brings her a peace and relieves stress.  We talked about how Jesus ultimately does that, but I think that where we feel it spiritually in our soul with Him, running embodies that and puts it into a physical sense.  We talked about how it's something that we can take the time to do for ourselves to help us focus on the day and be better moms and wives as a result.

Sometimes I picture my feet while running.  Every time a foot comes up, I can visualize the dirt and debris from the sidewalks and roads that are falling back to the earth.  I also feel like for me, it's a good illustration of how running relieves my stress.  I picture some of my tension, nerves, and stress falling away to the ground with the dirt for every step I run.  I feel lighter by the time I get home.

While saying goodbye to Carrie in front of her house, she mentioned how close I was to 5 miles (she has a watch that was tracking our distance.)  I decided to run the rest of the way home, past our house a little bit to the corner we started at to make it a full 5 miles, and then walked back home to where morning chaos had begun and the smell of bacon filled the air.

I never, ever, ever thought I would enjoy running.  Ever.  I thought I was too old to try, like it had to be something you had started while young and in school.  I thought it was silly to think I could run more than a mile, and then three.  I cannot believe the joy and energy it has brought.  Many days, especially weekends, when I return, Tim then heads out for his own run.

Pinterest is where I saw the running joke I mentioned in the beginning of this post.  Yesterday Carrie had pinned a statement that fits my life much better now:

"Run - it releases so much more than just sweat."

Encouragement in Psalm 66

You know how sometimes you've read thing more times than you can count, and yet it doesn't hit you and stick with you until your 37th time reading it?
Yeah, that happens to me, too.  It happened to me Monday morning during my quiet time.  I was reading Psalm 66 and this part just jumped right off the page at me:

"For you, O God, have tested us; 
you have tried us as silver is tried.
You brought us into the net;
you laid a crushing burden on our backs;
you let men ride over our heads;
we went through fire and through water;
yet you have brought us out to a place of abundance."
(verses 10-12)

We're going through some challenging times.  There are some assessments with one of the kids and we're feeling very weak right now, overwhelmed, a bit relieved that answers might be forthcoming, but when you have that on top of everything else we're involved with on top of Tim's work picking up and him trying to find a helper, life feels like a crushing burden.

I love that this verse says God has tested us - He's allowed all these things that feel crushing, overwhelming, insane to happen.

BUT, But, but.....

"You have brought us out to a place of abundance."

He is not going to leave us crushed, overwhelmed, and crazy.  He's going to bring us THROUGH!  He's not only going to bring us through but into a place of abundance.  Walking through these trials will bring us an abundance of maybe joy, or peace, or a stronger faith, or stronger family relationships. I'm just so relieved He'll bring me through!

If you are having a day that you feel like the whole world is crashing down on you, I hope you'll have great faith that God is trying to bring you through it and draw you closer to Him during your trial.  It does not feel easy, but there is a peace when you know He is there.

Shifting

I think parents have a vision of bedtime being this wonderful peaceful way to wind down a day.  I see a picture of a family snuggled up on a couch reading stories and praying together before walking kids up to their beds, pulling blankets snugly up around them, kissing sweet angelic cheeks and turning out the light while saying sweetly, "Good night, my lovelies."  Then all is quiet in the house while Mom and Dad unwind while reading books and newspapers and magazines.

That's my vision.
This is my reality as of late:

Things are going well through the book reading part.  Then comes the bedtime prayer together and, lo and behold, it is as if the younger ones know what comes next and the fight begins.  Escaping from bed repeatedly, requests for "one more sip" (often denied since they get a little water before bed), one more trip to the bathroom, non stop talking, etc.  Next thing Tim and I know, we're wrapped up in their chaos just to get them to be quiet and go to bed.  While trying to enjoy a movie together, there is a constant pausing and exchange of "It's-your-turn" looks until somewhere a half hour or so later, they finally give up and drift off while we are on the verge of quitting parenthood or contemplating telling childless couples to keep their lives simple and don't give in to the "When are you going to have kids?" pressure.  Hey, you may not like what I'm saying; I'm just being honest about the feelings in that moment.

You know what bothers me most about all this monkey business?  Yes, the disobedience is aggravating and the stalling is exhausting, but what bothers me most is my reactionary attitude.  I have gone from those blissful dreams of a lovely bedtime routine - which we have experienced along the way, don't get me wrong - to this raging monster of a mother who has waited all day for some quiet time alone with her husband and is mad that it's being taken over by little buggers.  I find it easy to fly off the handle and yell at the kids because I have dealt with them all day long and I just need a break, good night.  And honestly, when you're at home you're never on break because even during bedtime you're still there and still a parent.  But, anyways, I hate who I am during the bedtime battle.  And, yes, I realize that it probably reveals a heart issue, but that's probably for another blog post.

Tonight I caught myself in the battle alone since Tim is at a meeting. About a half hour into it I found my voice starting to get louder and my jaw becoming sore from clenching it while hissing out the words "Get back in bed and be quiet."  I don't know what hit me, but as I was walking up the stairs yet again, a voice in my head said, "You have 4 mainly healthy kids.  They were given to you.  Shift your perspective."

So instead of wishing I was totally alone in the house, I thanked God for my 4 little ones.  

Instead of wanting to tape their mouths shut, I gave thanks that they can speak and have healthy sets of lungs.

Instead of losing my patience with their climbing out of bed, I was thankful for their abilities to walk (especially since the youngest two had to have physical therapy to help them walk.)

Who would have thought that less than 5 minutes later, all would be quiet in the house?  It was almost as if the battle stopped cold actually.  I heard Caleb's voice drift off while singing "Do you want to build a snowman?" (his favorite song at the moment.  He sings it all day long, no matter where we are.  Just ask the lady in the restroom at Frederick Meijer Gardens yesterday.)

I am not writing this for advice regarding bedtime.  We've tried everything and have accepted that this may just be a phase when you have kids...especially when the youngest two are still 4 years old and 2 years old.  Noah and Ellie go to bed just fine for us.

I mainly wanted to encourage that sometimes it just takes a shift in perspective to allow God's strength to come upon you.  Thankfulness is a powerful thing.  It keeps your heart focused on what's important.  It's easy to become pessimistic and downtrodden but when your heart is thankful, the rest of you follows.

"And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."  ~Colossians 3:17