I'm not the runner I used to be.
Of course I'm slower. But it's much deeper than that. When I started running, I was in love with the thrill of competition. I loved entering local 5Ks. I even walked on the track team my junior year. I ran six days a week, regardless of the weather or my schedule. I did long runs on Saturdays and workouts on Mondays and Wednesdays. I was consistent in my mileage and logged every single run. I wanted to get faster and discover how well I could actually do if I trained properly. I loved it. For a while...
After a few years, though, it was like a switch went off: this running stuff, though I loved it, was adding stress to my life. (For those of you who still train seriously and race well, my hat goes off to you! You've got a gene that I don't have.) :)
Loved the running, didn't love the stress. So I de-stressed my training. I tossed the racing flats. I lost my training log. I would run long only if I felt like it and if it wasn't raining. Didn't keep up with days, miles, or shoes. No more workouts. No more racing.
I allowed my running to become my solace. My time with God. My deep breath of nature and exercise and prayer. And I loved it.
Funny how a few years can change your outlook on running.
A few years can also change your outlook on Christmas. :)
Man, what kid doesn't love Christmas, right? Growing up, Christmas season started at 5:00 AM on Black Friday when my mom, my sister and I got all of our Christmas shopping done in one manic trip. (You know, back when stores were closed on Thanksgiving Day.) I loved the decorating, the eighteen parties and get-togethers, the food, and MOST of all, the presents. I had a list a mile long, from my favorite candy to some big-ticket items. I loved seeing family, I loved the lights, I loved the excitement of it all. And, because I was raised in a Christian family, I even loved the Christmas program at church and the potluck meal with my parents' Sunday school class. I couldn't get enough of it all. I loved it. For a while...
After leaving my parents home and becoming an adult, it was like a switch went off: this Christmas stuff, though I loved it, was adding stress to my life. (For those of you who still do all the Christmas stuff and do it well, my hat goes off to you. You've got a gene that I don't have.) :)
Loved Christmas, didn't love the stress. So I de-stressed my Christmas. I whittled down my shopping list by calling friends and family members and just simply asking them if we could not do gifts. (100% of the time they responded with Yes! What a wonderful idea.) For the gifts I did buy, I got very boring: I asked them what they wanted and got that very thing. (No worries about finding the perfect gift! They would tell me!) I made most of my purchases online. I cut back on decorating, opting for a simple tree (that I put up and let my kids decorate without any input from me) and one stocking per child. The food I make to take places is simple and easy. We don't go to every open house, every family get-together, and every Christmas program. We're a weird family because of what we don't do at Christmas.
The craziest thing, though, is my list: it's almost empty. (My list this year had these exact things on it: oven mitts, a rain coat, and a gift card to House Blend. I'm not kidding.) I truly would rather sit and visit with a friend for an hour than get anything in the world. And I am SO much more excited about seeing my kids and parents play together than receiving anything my mom could buy at a mall. (And she's a really good shopper!) If you could give me about 48 hours alone as a Christmas gift, I'd like time to write cards and tell people how much I love them and how much they mean to me. If I could ask for only one thing, it would be this: that I show people Jesus at Christmas by the love and peace He gives me.
Funny how a few years can change your outlook on Christmas.
May you be blessed with a memorable Christmas and an ever-deepening relationship with our Lord.
Leslie Hudson
Friday, December 19, 2014
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Running Like a 3-year-old
During Thanksgiving break, my 3-year-old daughter Shelby and I had a few hours of one-on-one "girl time." It was a perfect fall day and we had a neighbor who was out of town needing her dog fed. Perfect opportunity to combine a good long walk with helping a friend!
So we started down our dead-end, rarely traveled, five-houses-in-a-mile-and-a-half road. Immediately, because she's three, she said, "Let's run!" The elevation from our house to our neighbor's house is primarily downhill, so I told her I'd run whenever she wanted.
I had no idea that she would run most of the way. (I also would have worn something other than jeans, for one thing!) She would sprint as hard as she could for as long as she could, then walk for about 20 steps, only to start sprinting again. I was so proud. And shocked. And out of breath. (And I call myself a runner! I couldn't even keep up with a 3-year-old going downhill!)
We got to our neighbor's house and took care of her dog. I looked at Shelby and said, "Are you ready to head back?" She looked at me in all seriousness and said, "Mama, I don't think I'm going to be able to make it back home."
She was spent.
You see, she ran like a 3-year old: all out, resting just long enough to catch her breath, then all out again. Over and over.
She asked me if I could carry her back. (Uphill? Over a mile? Yeah, right!) I told her I couldn't. But I promised her that we could rest whenever she needed and I would go as slowly as she wanted.
We made it about 100 yards before she told me she was just too tired to keep going. We both sat down in the middle of the road and I rubbed her legs as she sipped water. After a few minutes we hopped up and started again, resting regularly and making sure not to overdo it.
And that's how we traveled back home: walk, rest, drink, repeat.
The whole episode was hilarious, and at first I found it funny to reflect on how unrestrained and unprepared a 3-year-old is for a 3-mile run.
But then I realized her run looked a lot like my life.
I go too hard for too long, not stopping to rest or recover. I pause just long enough to catch my breath, only to go hard again.
And then I realize I'm spent: spiritually, mentally, emotionally. I look at the hill in front of me and say, "I don't think I'm going to be able to make it."
Come on, you've done it too, either in running or in life. Probably both :)
But though we've all come to the point of exhaustion in our lives, there's some great advice we can learn from little Shelby when we find ourselves at the bottom of the hill with a long way to go:
There's no rush. Though we live in a fast-paced world, our loving Heavenly Father is not rushing you. In fact we are told to "wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord," (Psalm 27:14). Let Him set the pace. He won't leave you behind!
You need nourishment. Shelby and I drank almost an entire liter of water on the return trip home, primarily because we never stopped to drink on the way out. Just as it's easy to get dehydrated on a run, it's easy to forget the importance of being filled spiritually, too. Luckily our Father is a Shepherd who "leads us beside still waters" and "refreshes our soul," (Psalm 23). Let Him nourish you with His Word, His presence, His peace.
Rest regularly. Not just sleep. (Though sleep is necessary, too!) REST. Sit for just a few minutes and ask God to clear your heart and your mind. Dwell on His Word as you drive or fold laundry or rock your baby. You don't need perfect peace and quiet to find rest; you find rest when you focus on God, trusting His love for you. "Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my salvation comes from Him," (Psalm 62:5). God rested on the seventh day; we are commanded to rest, as well. Not just to renew our bodies, but to refresh our souls!
YOU WILL MAKE IT. I promise. Maybe not how you thought or as fast as you'd hoped or at the pace you started, but you will make it. Through this season. Through this week. Through this year. Through this life. "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith," (2 Timothy 4:7).
When you can't make it, someone will carry you. I admit I did carry Shelby through the steepest part. And God will never fail to carry you when you need Him. "I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you," (Isaiah 46:4).
Don't get spent! Run with perseverance and keep that focus on Jesus! (Hebrews 12:1-2).
Leslie Hudson
So we started down our dead-end, rarely traveled, five-houses-in-a-mile-and-a-half road. Immediately, because she's three, she said, "Let's run!" The elevation from our house to our neighbor's house is primarily downhill, so I told her I'd run whenever she wanted.
I had no idea that she would run most of the way. (I also would have worn something other than jeans, for one thing!) She would sprint as hard as she could for as long as she could, then walk for about 20 steps, only to start sprinting again. I was so proud. And shocked. And out of breath. (And I call myself a runner! I couldn't even keep up with a 3-year-old going downhill!)
We got to our neighbor's house and took care of her dog. I looked at Shelby and said, "Are you ready to head back?" She looked at me in all seriousness and said, "Mama, I don't think I'm going to be able to make it back home."
She was spent.
You see, she ran like a 3-year old: all out, resting just long enough to catch her breath, then all out again. Over and over.
She asked me if I could carry her back. (Uphill? Over a mile? Yeah, right!) I told her I couldn't. But I promised her that we could rest whenever she needed and I would go as slowly as she wanted.
We made it about 100 yards before she told me she was just too tired to keep going. We both sat down in the middle of the road and I rubbed her legs as she sipped water. After a few minutes we hopped up and started again, resting regularly and making sure not to overdo it.
And that's how we traveled back home: walk, rest, drink, repeat.
The whole episode was hilarious, and at first I found it funny to reflect on how unrestrained and unprepared a 3-year-old is for a 3-mile run.
But then I realized her run looked a lot like my life.
I go too hard for too long, not stopping to rest or recover. I pause just long enough to catch my breath, only to go hard again.
And then I realize I'm spent: spiritually, mentally, emotionally. I look at the hill in front of me and say, "I don't think I'm going to be able to make it."
Come on, you've done it too, either in running or in life. Probably both :)
But though we've all come to the point of exhaustion in our lives, there's some great advice we can learn from little Shelby when we find ourselves at the bottom of the hill with a long way to go:
There's no rush. Though we live in a fast-paced world, our loving Heavenly Father is not rushing you. In fact we are told to "wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord," (Psalm 27:14). Let Him set the pace. He won't leave you behind!
You need nourishment. Shelby and I drank almost an entire liter of water on the return trip home, primarily because we never stopped to drink on the way out. Just as it's easy to get dehydrated on a run, it's easy to forget the importance of being filled spiritually, too. Luckily our Father is a Shepherd who "leads us beside still waters" and "refreshes our soul," (Psalm 23). Let Him nourish you with His Word, His presence, His peace.
Rest regularly. Not just sleep. (Though sleep is necessary, too!) REST. Sit for just a few minutes and ask God to clear your heart and your mind. Dwell on His Word as you drive or fold laundry or rock your baby. You don't need perfect peace and quiet to find rest; you find rest when you focus on God, trusting His love for you. "Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my salvation comes from Him," (Psalm 62:5). God rested on the seventh day; we are commanded to rest, as well. Not just to renew our bodies, but to refresh our souls!
YOU WILL MAKE IT. I promise. Maybe not how you thought or as fast as you'd hoped or at the pace you started, but you will make it. Through this season. Through this week. Through this year. Through this life. "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith," (2 Timothy 4:7).
When you can't make it, someone will carry you. I admit I did carry Shelby through the steepest part. And God will never fail to carry you when you need Him. "I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you," (Isaiah 46:4).
Don't get spent! Run with perseverance and keep that focus on Jesus! (Hebrews 12:1-2).
Leslie Hudson
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Seasons
I had been out of sync with my running, between work and family and all that fall brings. So I was so excited to head out the door for a run on my favorite trail for the first time in weeks.
Even more exciting was the scene that greeted me: the trail was completely covered with freshly-fallen yellow leaves. It was like running on some sort of painting that had been intentionally marked with different shades of gold.
Beautiful.
But dangerous, as anyone who has run on trails can attest. When the trails are covered with leaves, you can't see the roots or rocks or ditches. Young runners often find themselves splayed face down on a trail because of the hidden obstacles. (I did when I started running on trails!)
"Tis the season for leaves," I thought to myself, thinking not only of Fall and Thanksgiving but of the always-closer-than-I'm-ready-for Christmas. From there, my mind wandered to other seasons: not just seasons of the year but seasons of life...the seasons of adolescence, young adulthood, newlyweds, and beyond.
Seasons of running. Seasons of life.
So much in common yet so very different. The seasons of running are cyclical, knowing that this fall will be much like last fall and next fall. But seasons of life are all different, all new, all unfamiliar. Seasons of running are something you can anticipate and actually get pretty accustomed to; seasons of life come at you with little to no warning or preparation.
I reflected on the season of sleep deprivation I had when my kids were little. I'd lay in bed every night, utterly exhausted, barely muttering a prayer asking God to help me get through the next day. That season seemed like it would never end. And then one day I looked around at my life and realized I was no longer a walking zombie; I could form sentences that made sense and actually had the time and energy to fix a meal for my family every now and then.
I then took the time to pray for my friends and family who are going through their own trying seasons right now:
The season of caring for elderly, struggling parents.
The season of learning to be married in a way that honors God and your husband, realizing that it is so much harder than you thought it would be.
The season of watching your children reject all you've taught them and lived for.
The season of learning to accept God's plan for your life and realizing it wasn't what you wanted or thought it would be.
Seasons.
Each beautiful. Each dangerous. Each full of their own blessings and trials and benefits and hardships.
Solomon understood the significance of seasons:
"There is an occasion for everything, and a time for every activity under heaven:
a time to give birth and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to uproot;
a time to tear down and a time to build;
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance;
a time to embrace and a time to avoid embracing;
a time to search and a time to count as lost;
a time to be silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.
(Ecclesiastes 3:8, selected, HCSB)
You're in a season right now. It won't last forever. It hit you like a hurricane and might leave you in a tidal wave.
But it's part of running. It's part of life. It's part of God's plan.
And as you see the changing of the running seasons, perhaps you'll embrace the season of your own life, thank God for being with you as you run through it, and know with certain hope that, just like leaf-strewn trails, it will not last.
Even more exciting was the scene that greeted me: the trail was completely covered with freshly-fallen yellow leaves. It was like running on some sort of painting that had been intentionally marked with different shades of gold.
Beautiful.
But dangerous, as anyone who has run on trails can attest. When the trails are covered with leaves, you can't see the roots or rocks or ditches. Young runners often find themselves splayed face down on a trail because of the hidden obstacles. (I did when I started running on trails!)
"Tis the season for leaves," I thought to myself, thinking not only of Fall and Thanksgiving but of the always-closer-than-I'm-ready-for Christmas. From there, my mind wandered to other seasons: not just seasons of the year but seasons of life...the seasons of adolescence, young adulthood, newlyweds, and beyond.
Seasons of running. Seasons of life.
So much in common yet so very different. The seasons of running are cyclical, knowing that this fall will be much like last fall and next fall. But seasons of life are all different, all new, all unfamiliar. Seasons of running are something you can anticipate and actually get pretty accustomed to; seasons of life come at you with little to no warning or preparation.
I reflected on the season of sleep deprivation I had when my kids were little. I'd lay in bed every night, utterly exhausted, barely muttering a prayer asking God to help me get through the next day. That season seemed like it would never end. And then one day I looked around at my life and realized I was no longer a walking zombie; I could form sentences that made sense and actually had the time and energy to fix a meal for my family every now and then.
I then took the time to pray for my friends and family who are going through their own trying seasons right now:
The season of caring for elderly, struggling parents.
The season of learning to be married in a way that honors God and your husband, realizing that it is so much harder than you thought it would be.
The season of watching your children reject all you've taught them and lived for.
The season of learning to accept God's plan for your life and realizing it wasn't what you wanted or thought it would be.
Seasons.
Each beautiful. Each dangerous. Each full of their own blessings and trials and benefits and hardships.
Solomon understood the significance of seasons:
"There is an occasion for everything, and a time for every activity under heaven:
a time to give birth and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to uproot;
a time to tear down and a time to build;
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance;
a time to embrace and a time to avoid embracing;
a time to search and a time to count as lost;
a time to be silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.
(Ecclesiastes 3:8, selected, HCSB)
You're in a season right now. It won't last forever. It hit you like a hurricane and might leave you in a tidal wave.
But it's part of running. It's part of life. It's part of God's plan.
And as you see the changing of the running seasons, perhaps you'll embrace the season of your own life, thank God for being with you as you run through it, and know with certain hope that, just like leaf-strewn trails, it will not last.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Those who Cleared the Trail
[This is somewhat of a continuation of the Spider Shield blog from last week. If you haven't read it, you can here.]
So I started my run the other day, Spider Shield in hand, and got about 100 feet down the path before remembering that I had seen a friend in running clothes, only a few hours earlier, headed toward the trail. I thought to myself, I don't need this Spider Shield; the trail has been cleared this morning. I threw down the stick and was able to run with freedom, knowing the webs had been cleared and I could focus on the path ahead.
This wasn't the only time other runners had gone before me, clearing out the webs [figuratively and literally], allowing me to learn from their mistakes. I began to thank God for the amazing, loving men and women who shaped my understanding of running.
I thought of Joe Barton who warned me that I had started a 10K way, WAY too fast.
I thought of Amy Cox, who encouraged me to view a hilly course as a blessing.
I thought of Holly Paulus, who walked a steep uphill 5 miles in a relay race, insisting she didn't need any support.
These and others were people who were wiser and more experienced who helped me know the pitfalls and who gave me the confidence to keep running. Because I was surrounded by a group of people who knew what I would face, I wasn't surprised by the troubles. I knew the importance of shoes that really fit and a supportive running bra. I witnessed the effects of being under- or over-hydrated. I learned that I can't worry about what other people do in a race.
And as I thought back to the verse I quoted in the Spider Shield blog from Hebrews 12:1, "...let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us," (NIV), I remembered the phrase that preceded that quote, perfectly completing my new focus: "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses..."
And it hit me that, much more than I should thank God for people who cleared the way for me in my running, I should praise Him even more for for those who guided me and set the example in my spiritual life.
Hebrews 11 (which precedes the above verse about that great cloud of witnesses) describes who those witnesses are: Heroes of the Old Testament, known for a faith that not only shaped the lives of their children, but also their descendants and those of us who study their faith and learn from it today.
We see Enoch, who walked with God.
Noah, who believed in something he couldn't see.
Abraham, who was willing to leave his family and home and believed God would provide Him with an eternal city.
Jacob, who worshiped as he died.
Moses, who chose to be persecuted for being born an Israelite.
Rahab, who risked her earthly life to save her eternal one.
These are the witnesses who are watching us today. The great cloud of witnesses described in Hebrews 12:1. They went before us, cleared the path, blazed the trail, and left their lives, open and exposed, as an example to us.
And when we truly grasp who they were, who they weren't, and how we can better know God and follow Him through their example, we're able to walk through life knowing that the webs are out of the way:
We read about Enoch and we choose to walk with God.
We feel Noah's fear of the unknown and believe God will deliver us anyway.
We empathize with Abraham and trust God's path for our lives, though He may take us far from our family and our home.
We reflect on Jacob and make the decision to worship as we leave this earth.
We see what happened to Moses and accept the persecution that comes with being a Christ-follower.
We consider Rahab and realize that our earthly life is worth losing in order to save our eternal one.
And we praise God not only for these heroes but also for the people in our lives who are a little further down the path and choose to lay open their lives and their faith so we can avoid the webs that try to entangle us:
The friend who reminds you to love your husband when your children take all your energy.
The lady at church who tells you she'll pray for you and means it.
The devoted ally who carries your burdens and speaks truth to you when you can't see clearly.
The wise older woman in Bible Study who shows you how to be less like Martha and more like Mary.
The sister who sees you and immediately says, "What's the matter?" when nobody else knew you were struggling.
All part of the great cloud of witnesses. All running the race with perseverance, encouraging us, loving us, and warning us of the webs blocking the path. Sometimes even clearing them out for us.
And there are runners coming behind us who need the same kind of love, wisdom, and testimony from us. So we share our struggles, admit our faults, and point to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2). We realize we are part of the cloud of witnesses who will pass from this life to real life as our faith becomes sight (1 Timothy 6:19, HCSB). We choose not only to help others with their running, but with their WALK (2 Corinthians 5:7, HCSB).
And so we run the race of earthly life marked out for us (Hebrews 12:1). Not with perfection. Not with performance. Not with precision. With perseverance.
Because others have gone before us to clear out the trail.
Leslie Hudson
prizerunners.com
gg5k.org
So I started my run the other day, Spider Shield in hand, and got about 100 feet down the path before remembering that I had seen a friend in running clothes, only a few hours earlier, headed toward the trail. I thought to myself, I don't need this Spider Shield; the trail has been cleared this morning. I threw down the stick and was able to run with freedom, knowing the webs had been cleared and I could focus on the path ahead.
This wasn't the only time other runners had gone before me, clearing out the webs [figuratively and literally], allowing me to learn from their mistakes. I began to thank God for the amazing, loving men and women who shaped my understanding of running.
I thought of Joe Barton who warned me that I had started a 10K way, WAY too fast.
I thought of Amy Cox, who encouraged me to view a hilly course as a blessing.
I thought of Holly Paulus, who walked a steep uphill 5 miles in a relay race, insisting she didn't need any support.
These and others were people who were wiser and more experienced who helped me know the pitfalls and who gave me the confidence to keep running. Because I was surrounded by a group of people who knew what I would face, I wasn't surprised by the troubles. I knew the importance of shoes that really fit and a supportive running bra. I witnessed the effects of being under- or over-hydrated. I learned that I can't worry about what other people do in a race.
And as I thought back to the verse I quoted in the Spider Shield blog from Hebrews 12:1, "...let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us," (NIV), I remembered the phrase that preceded that quote, perfectly completing my new focus: "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses..."
And it hit me that, much more than I should thank God for people who cleared the way for me in my running, I should praise Him even more for for those who guided me and set the example in my spiritual life.
Hebrews 11 (which precedes the above verse about that great cloud of witnesses) describes who those witnesses are: Heroes of the Old Testament, known for a faith that not only shaped the lives of their children, but also their descendants and those of us who study their faith and learn from it today.
We see Enoch, who walked with God.
Noah, who believed in something he couldn't see.
Abraham, who was willing to leave his family and home and believed God would provide Him with an eternal city.
Jacob, who worshiped as he died.
Moses, who chose to be persecuted for being born an Israelite.
Rahab, who risked her earthly life to save her eternal one.
These are the witnesses who are watching us today. The great cloud of witnesses described in Hebrews 12:1. They went before us, cleared the path, blazed the trail, and left their lives, open and exposed, as an example to us.
And when we truly grasp who they were, who they weren't, and how we can better know God and follow Him through their example, we're able to walk through life knowing that the webs are out of the way:
We read about Enoch and we choose to walk with God.
We feel Noah's fear of the unknown and believe God will deliver us anyway.
We empathize with Abraham and trust God's path for our lives, though He may take us far from our family and our home.
We reflect on Jacob and make the decision to worship as we leave this earth.
We see what happened to Moses and accept the persecution that comes with being a Christ-follower.
We consider Rahab and realize that our earthly life is worth losing in order to save our eternal one.
And we praise God not only for these heroes but also for the people in our lives who are a little further down the path and choose to lay open their lives and their faith so we can avoid the webs that try to entangle us:
The friend who reminds you to love your husband when your children take all your energy.
The lady at church who tells you she'll pray for you and means it.
The devoted ally who carries your burdens and speaks truth to you when you can't see clearly.
The wise older woman in Bible Study who shows you how to be less like Martha and more like Mary.
The sister who sees you and immediately says, "What's the matter?" when nobody else knew you were struggling.
All part of the great cloud of witnesses. All running the race with perseverance, encouraging us, loving us, and warning us of the webs blocking the path. Sometimes even clearing them out for us.
And there are runners coming behind us who need the same kind of love, wisdom, and testimony from us. So we share our struggles, admit our faults, and point to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2). We realize we are part of the cloud of witnesses who will pass from this life to real life as our faith becomes sight (1 Timothy 6:19, HCSB). We choose not only to help others with their running, but with their WALK (2 Corinthians 5:7, HCSB).
And so we run the race of earthly life marked out for us (Hebrews 12:1). Not with perfection. Not with performance. Not with precision. With perseverance.
Because others have gone before us to clear out the trail.
Leslie Hudson
prizerunners.com
gg5k.org
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Spider Shield
I love trail running. Most days I head out the door about 200 feet to an old logging road in the middle of hundreds of acres. Sometimes I encounter a hunter or a farmer slowly navigating his truck down the rutty, muddy, rough terrain; but most mornings it's just me and the wildlife.
But with running on an isolated trail comes something I don't love: spider webs.
Invisible. Sticky. Evil.
I see them at the last second, too late to avoid them. It gets in my hair and face, clings to my arms, sticks to my neck. And it takes me the rest of the run to get rid of it.
But I've gotten wise: I carry a branch with hundreds of small stems shooting in all directions, perfect for destroying the web before I even see it. It's my spider shield. And though it takes effort to carry it and keep it right in front of me, it's worth it. Because my runs are spider-free.
Or so I thought. The other day I tossed down my branch at the end of a run, took one step, and walked smack into a web. It got everywhere. I was entangled.
And my mind immediately went to Hebrews 12:
"...let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us," (verse 1, NIV, italics mine).
Those spider webs should remind us of something else we don't love: SIN.
Invisible. Sticky. Evil.
Satan is tricky. Rarely do we see sin coming; most of the time we see it at the last second, too late to avoid it. It gets ALL OVER US, and it takes us the rest of the month or the year or our lifetime to get rid sin's consequences.
But the next verse in Hebrews 12 helps us to be wise. In the next verse it tells us how to keep away from those webs:
"...fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith..."
We have a Righteous Branch with hundreds of little stems shooting in all directions, perfect for destroying the power of sin before we even see it: JESUS.
And we keep our focus on Him, allowing Him to go before us in the form of FAITH. Our faith in Jesus Christ forms a shield in front of us, ready for the evil that is waiting.
Doesn't that remind you of another verse:
"In every situation take the shield of faith, and with it you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one," (Ephesians 6:16, HCSB).
Faith is the noun form of believe. When we believe (verb), we have faith (noun). And that faith is our shield against the evil one.
So we fix our eyes on Jesus, believing Him when He says,
"You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world!" (John 16:33, HCSB)
"...if any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives to all generously and without criticizing," (James 1:5, HCSB)
"Don't worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses every thought, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus," (Philippians 4:6-7, HCSB)
(And there are hundreds more.)
Believe Him. He's your shield of faith. He protects you from sin. He clears the path before you.
Rejoice that our faith keeps Satan at bay.
Rejoice that you don't have to fight sin in your own power; Jesus is here for that.
And rejoice that spider web season is almost over for us trail-runners. Bring on the Winter!!!
But with running on an isolated trail comes something I don't love: spider webs.
Invisible. Sticky. Evil.
I see them at the last second, too late to avoid them. It gets in my hair and face, clings to my arms, sticks to my neck. And it takes me the rest of the run to get rid of it.
But I've gotten wise: I carry a branch with hundreds of small stems shooting in all directions, perfect for destroying the web before I even see it. It's my spider shield. And though it takes effort to carry it and keep it right in front of me, it's worth it. Because my runs are spider-free.
Or so I thought. The other day I tossed down my branch at the end of a run, took one step, and walked smack into a web. It got everywhere. I was entangled.
And my mind immediately went to Hebrews 12:
"...let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us," (verse 1, NIV, italics mine).
Those spider webs should remind us of something else we don't love: SIN.
Invisible. Sticky. Evil.
Satan is tricky. Rarely do we see sin coming; most of the time we see it at the last second, too late to avoid it. It gets ALL OVER US, and it takes us the rest of the month or the year or our lifetime to get rid sin's consequences.
But the next verse in Hebrews 12 helps us to be wise. In the next verse it tells us how to keep away from those webs:
"...fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith..."
We have a Righteous Branch with hundreds of little stems shooting in all directions, perfect for destroying the power of sin before we even see it: JESUS.
And we keep our focus on Him, allowing Him to go before us in the form of FAITH. Our faith in Jesus Christ forms a shield in front of us, ready for the evil that is waiting.
Doesn't that remind you of another verse:
"In every situation take the shield of faith, and with it you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one," (Ephesians 6:16, HCSB).
Faith is the noun form of believe. When we believe (verb), we have faith (noun). And that faith is our shield against the evil one.
So we fix our eyes on Jesus, believing Him when He says,
"You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world!" (John 16:33, HCSB)
"...if any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives to all generously and without criticizing," (James 1:5, HCSB)
"Don't worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses every thought, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus," (Philippians 4:6-7, HCSB)
(And there are hundreds more.)
Believe Him. He's your shield of faith. He protects you from sin. He clears the path before you.
Rejoice that our faith keeps Satan at bay.
Rejoice that you don't have to fight sin in your own power; Jesus is here for that.
And rejoice that spider web season is almost over for us trail-runners. Bring on the Winter!!!
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Trust the Temperature
I knew it was 55 degrees. The thermometer on my porch told me so.
But it was a rainy morning. It was cloudy, windy, sunless, sprinkling.
And even though I have been a runner for years and I knew that 55 degrees calls for a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, I just didn't believe it that one morning. It looked colder than that. It felt colder than that. So I put on pants and a long-sleeved shirt.
And, of course, I found myself 5 minutes into my run with my long-sleeved shirt tied around my waist, my legs overheating.
Why didn't I just dress according to the temperature, instead of what I felt it would be like outside?
Maybe because I sometimes talk myself out of acting according to God's Word, instead of what I feel like.
Oh, you too?
A thermometer is a modern miracle. It doesn't care what it feels like outside; it just tells the truth.
So does Scripture.
Without God's Word, we're a mess. Because we're weak. Because we're fearful. Because we are proud. Because we listen to ourselves.
"The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" (Jeremiah 17:9, NIV)
BUT
"The word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and the attitudes of the heart," (Hebrews 4:12, NIV).
Your heart will deceive you. (Can I get an amen?!?!) I mentor many college girls and I hear these statements all the time:
"But I just feel so..."
"But he makes me feel..."
"But I've always wanted..."
And I listen because I love them. I give them the words a 20-something girl needs to hear. But what I want to say is, "Your heart is deceiving you! What does God's Word say?"
(Don't worry. Sometimes I do say just that, if they can handle it :)
And I pray that, if you need to hear it, you hear the Spirit saying the same thing to you today:
"Stop. Breathe. You have blown this out of proportion, because you're looking at the situation through your own eyes. But you don't understand it all. You don't realize all that's going on. I DO! And when you need to know what is really going on, you find that in My Word."
So you check the thermometer of God's Word and you understand the real temperature.
Your feelings are real. Your heartache is real. Your struggles are real.
But you are swayed by your circumstances, emotions, past, passions, temperament, and (sometimes most of all) hormones. God's Word isn't. IT IS TRUTH.
So commit today to checking the temperature of your life with God's thermometer: the Bible.
Here are a few to get you started:
"Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from Him.
Truly He is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress; I will never be shaken," (Psalm 62:1).
"The LORD Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged," (Deuteronomy 31:8).
"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need," (Hebrews 4:16).
"The LORD will fight for you. You need only to be still," (Exodus 14:14).
And as you check the thermometer this week, I pray you'll think about the true assessment of your life and circumstances that can be found only in the Bible.
PLEASE, share your own favorite verses that keep you grounded, focused, and confident in Christ alone. Write them in the comments below so we can all find new trust in our thermometer!
But it was a rainy morning. It was cloudy, windy, sunless, sprinkling.
And even though I have been a runner for years and I knew that 55 degrees calls for a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, I just didn't believe it that one morning. It looked colder than that. It felt colder than that. So I put on pants and a long-sleeved shirt.
And, of course, I found myself 5 minutes into my run with my long-sleeved shirt tied around my waist, my legs overheating.
Why didn't I just dress according to the temperature, instead of what I felt it would be like outside?
Maybe because I sometimes talk myself out of acting according to God's Word, instead of what I feel like.
Oh, you too?
A thermometer is a modern miracle. It doesn't care what it feels like outside; it just tells the truth.
So does Scripture.
Without God's Word, we're a mess. Because we're weak. Because we're fearful. Because we are proud. Because we listen to ourselves.
"The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" (Jeremiah 17:9, NIV)
BUT
"The word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and the attitudes of the heart," (Hebrews 4:12, NIV).
Your heart will deceive you. (Can I get an amen?!?!) I mentor many college girls and I hear these statements all the time:
"But I just feel so..."
"But he makes me feel..."
"But I've always wanted..."
And I listen because I love them. I give them the words a 20-something girl needs to hear. But what I want to say is, "Your heart is deceiving you! What does God's Word say?"
(Don't worry. Sometimes I do say just that, if they can handle it :)
And I pray that, if you need to hear it, you hear the Spirit saying the same thing to you today:
"Stop. Breathe. You have blown this out of proportion, because you're looking at the situation through your own eyes. But you don't understand it all. You don't realize all that's going on. I DO! And when you need to know what is really going on, you find that in My Word."
So you check the thermometer of God's Word and you understand the real temperature.
Your feelings are real. Your heartache is real. Your struggles are real.
But you are swayed by your circumstances, emotions, past, passions, temperament, and (sometimes most of all) hormones. God's Word isn't. IT IS TRUTH.
So commit today to checking the temperature of your life with God's thermometer: the Bible.
Here are a few to get you started:
"Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from Him.
Truly He is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress; I will never be shaken," (Psalm 62:1).
"The LORD Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged," (Deuteronomy 31:8).
"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need," (Hebrews 4:16).
"The LORD will fight for you. You need only to be still," (Exodus 14:14).
And as you check the thermometer this week, I pray you'll think about the true assessment of your life and circumstances that can be found only in the Bible.
PLEASE, share your own favorite verses that keep you grounded, focused, and confident in Christ alone. Write them in the comments below so we can all find new trust in our thermometer!
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