remembering

I love reminiscing...
the art of being transported from the hub of the moment
and into a piece of your past.

I love how only one other person knows what is really happening here...



or that only two people shared this view (and laugh) with me!



or the fact that orange peels make me smile



A couple years ago I had the amazing opportunity
of revisiting a quiet English countryside that was a catalyst in my young life...
driven, not by the convenience of traveling to a remote town,
(long train rides, unexpected floods, bus detours, and taxi-less cities)
but by the connection to the depth of memories it held.


How many of us do the same -
living on the high of reconnecting to "when life was good"?

Sometimes I am grateful for the flashback...
while others bring a memory of forgotten wounds.
Both serve the purpose of remembering a road travelled
while piloting you into the present and future.

It doesn't take much...
A song.
A smell.
A story.
A picture.
A person.
A place...

This weekend was full of them.
Four days brimming with
the family I love,
friends I have done so much life with,
and familiar places I can exhale in.
(Not to mention copious amounts of caffeine!)

It was encouraging to see faces from my past...
Laugh about the old times.
Celebrate the new times.
To remember the good,
and that God is good.
Yesterday.
Today.
Forever.

My definite highlight came quite unexpectedly
in a downtown restaurant,
listening humbly to a life story
that has been touched.
Changed.
Eternally rewritten.
It was thru the testimony
of an open heart
that my weary faith was transported
back into the memory
of ignited passion
and discovered purpose.

I needed that.

A reminder of faith on fire.
Of what it looks like to be alive.
To be hungry...
thirsty...
for truth.
For justice.
For God.

May my memories inspire my present...
and translate my perspective to the good held in this moment.

Here.

Now.

running amongst thorns

Have you ever trained for anything?
Sacrificed pieces of your life in the efforts of achieving a goal?
Boxed out everything to give you the focus to accomplish something?
Have you tasted the finish before crossing the starting line?

Enter Banff.


For the past couple years a group of us crazies train our summers away for the annual Melissa's Run.
With a trek of either 10k or 22k,
we share the privilege and roadway with thousands of others
to tread in the grandeur of mountains and rivers
(and luxury golf courses for the 22k'ers).

Months of training are geared for a couple hours on a Saturday morning.
Pushing.
Striving.
Towards a goal.
A finish line.

Two days before we were scheduled to head out to Banff
my heel had an unfortunate "run-in" with a student-driven dolly.
With damage to my achilles tendon, it didn't look like I'd be able to start the race,
let alone finish it!
Disappointed was a word that couldn't cover the feelings that were swimming in my heart and head.
I had trained so hard.
Given up countless hours.
Taken all the preventative measures to ensure a healthy race...
and in a singular moment it hung in the uncertain balance of this thing called "My Life".
In a week that didn't need any extra disappointments,
this one caught my heart off-guard
and tailspun my thoughts.

Because no matter how prepared you are,
you will never be able to predict the lessons life throws at you.

With my newly acquired cankle resting on ice
and a steady supply of pain killers,
I tried to mask my gnawing darkness that festered in my mind...

Life doesn't always turn out how you want.

Get used to disappointment.

Expect your happiness to be constantly thwarted.

Your sacrifices,
Your planning,
Your preparing
are no guarantee of the journey.

Put your hopes on ice,
and learn pain management.

These musings shadow so many things in my life.
Ever want to know what your faith looks like?
Walk it through a trial.
It won't be long before you discover
the beasts that linger in the recesses of the mind and heart.
They are the ugliest...
desiring to discourage you
from pressing forward through the pain.
They want to destroy your hope.
Annihilate your faith.

And with their bitter taste in my thoughts,
I knew I would run.
Even if every step would be through pain...
I would rather try and fail,
than fail to try.

It's a little daunting to stand at a starting line,
challenged enough by the distance ahead...
feeling the injury,
and knowing that every step will be made with pain.
It was a journey I wouldn't have chosen for myself,
but in hindsight, would never trade.


It was around the 14k mark,
the "wall" section of my run,
that I was reminded of a man named Paul
who had a thorn...
a hinderance in his life.
Here was a man who had devoted his life to God.
If anyone was a candidate for healing,
"entitled" to having a break in life,
it was Paul.
He begged God for it to be removed,
and yet God was more concerned about the heart of the issue
than the body that housed it.

Three times I did that, and then he told me,

My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.
Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.

For Paul it was dealing with his pride.

God had other things He was working through my heart in those 22k.
He had the power to heal the injury or prevent it,
but there was something greater at play...
something with an eternal perspective.

Life will press thorns into your plans.
There will come times of running long stretches,
every step with pain.
Unbearable in your strength.

Conflict.
Loss.
Sickness.
Loneliness.
Discouragement.
Disappointment.

I'm not going to lie -
the road through pain is not an easy one.
There will be moments that will try to suck your life away,
your hope.
Your faith.
But remember the destination
in the thick of the journey.
Persevere in the Strength
that never fails.

It's not about finishing first.
It's how you finish.
And who you finish with...



Derek Redmond - Barcelona Olympics 1992