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.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
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
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