Blind Date Blessings

 

This running journey has been full of unexpected blessings.  The blessing of healing that it is bringing to my son, has been my focus, and occupied my line of sight for the last couple of weeks.  Last night I walked into my home from a run in the dark with my Dad, the children were all asleep, and the quiet allowed my heart time for reflection.  God is so completely faithful, and while I have a list of many answers to prayer, it always takes me back when God comes to answer, to minister to those things on my mind that I have neglected to even mention to Him... but He knows...

 

I've been following the Couch to 5K running plan, a slow easy climb from inactivity to being able to run 3.1 miles in nine weeks.  Step one:  Run 60 seconds, walk 90, repeat eight times.  This was a plan I could get behind!  One minute!  Alrighty then!  Each week, the minutes would slowly increase, and after a small panic, I would see that the previous week had prepared me well for the increase; I was beginning to hit my stride, I was gaining confidence.  This insurmountable goal that had been hanging out there, was slowly being eaten away, one minute at a time.

 

This last week, I hit the five minute mark.  Run for five minutes, walk for three... repeat... repeat... and I began to wonder if maybe I had found my max.  Maybe I had been right all along, and I was not an athlete, (who was I kidding?) I could never hope to achieve being able to run 5K.  The doubt increased.  I checked the training program on my iPod and saw that in three days time, I was supposed to be able to run 20 MINUTES at a time.  As in all-at-once.  No walking.  Twenty minutes?!?  If I couldn't run five, how in the world was I going to manage twenty?

 

My Dad had always been with me on the previous runs, but my parents were on vacation for this little panic of mine.  I had hit the hardest part of my training schedule thus far, and was trying to complete this without him running beside me.  He was completing the same runs on his trip, and we were texting back and forth, checking in with each other.  His texts said he was right on track.  Those texts said nothing about him "maxing out" and I worried when he got back, what if I couldn't keep up with him? 

 

I cried with my husband.  "Honey!?!  I can't run 20 minutes!?!  I can barely run five!  I mean, I physically CANNOT do this!  What am I going to DO???"  He offered to ride his bike beside me and cheer me on (he can't run due to the knee surgery he had last year), and while I found his offer a sweet confirmation that I had married the best man in the world, I was still quite sure of my inability to run 20 minutes, despite the constant encouragement I knew he would give.  The doubts began to grow.

 

Yesterday morning found me in a slump, I motored through the therapy exercises with my son, accidentally bleached all of my clothes but five shirts, and tried to plant math concepts in the resistant soil of my older children's brains.  I tried to make my bed, only to be overwhelmed by the thought of the task.  The bed went unmade.  The realization that I was too taxed to make my bed worried me.  I was burning out.

 

The daily healing plan for our son is intense.  It isn't daily, it is minute by minute.  It requires my vigilance, and constant presence.  Yesterday it required more than I was able to give, I was just too tired.  We work with him, and the realization of the brokenness is right up in our face "this is what he endured", and the "I don't think I can bear it" pain is right there... all the time.  It breaks a Mommy heart.  It robs me of my very breath.  All this pain, and I wasn't there.  All this pain, and the path to healing is long.

 

Tuesday is not a running day for me, but when my husband came home in the early afternoon from work I knew that he could take the helm, and I could finally escape for a minute.  I needed to get away to compose my thoughts. I needed to breathe air that wasn't being shared by brokenness.  I grabbed my iPod, loaded up the next run and headed out the door.  As I glanced at the screen,  I saw that I would be running two eight minute intervals.  I had never run that far, but figured today was the day to try.  My next run was that elusive giant of 20 minutes, and so at least I would have one more run before I had to quit from inadequacy.  (Isn't fatigue uplifting?)

 

I had no idea where I was headed.  Then I remembered the text that I had received just a few hours prior: "We're Home"... and I knew where I was headed.  I needed my Mommy.  I needed to see my Dad.  I needed the stability that comes from going "home", needed to drink up a bit of the two of them.  As I neared the school, I heard my App trainer yell "JOG!" and I began to run.  Halfway to my parents house, I was surprised that he, (the app calls him "Sarge") hadn't told me to "WALK!" yet, but I reasoned that since I had never run eight minutes, I didn't know how long it felt.  If I couldn't run eight, I had no hope of ever reaching twenty, so I pressed on.  I was too going to run eight minutes!

 

It was when I hit my parents' driveway that I realized something had gone wrong with my App.  Surely, I didn't run to my parent's house in eight minutes, they live almost two miles away!  It turns out my iPod App had accidentally been paused somewhere along the way, and wasn't even ON for the whole run.  I went back through my playlist and figured out by how long the songs were, how long I had run... can you guess?  It was 20 minutes.  I still can't believe it.  My lack of a sense of time finally paid off.

 

The blessing is not in the fact that indeed, I am able to run that long... the blessing is that God cared enough about me to "arrange" for me to see what I really was able to do.  It was a blind date with a 20 minute run.  He is a God that cares for the tiniest things.  I can just picture Him smiling as he planned the whole thing.

 

I found my Dad and Momma in the backyard. They were putting things away from their trip, and she pulled me inside, fed me, let me sit on her couch and ramble all out of order all the things that were on my shoulders, and shared her prayers for me that had occupied her earlier in the day.  She bolstered me with her Mother Love.

 

That night, after I had everyone ready for bed, I drove to my parents house once more, this time for a run with my Dad.  We ran the fives, just to see where we were at... and they were easy.  My blessing then?  He was right beside me.  I had forgotten how good it felt to run beside him, draw from his strength, and chatter in his ear as we went along.  Nearing the house as we completed our jog, our breath puffing out in little clouds in front of us, I grabbed his hand, and we walked up to the porch that way.  I confess, I felt like a little girl, all over again... and I soaked up this blessing that is and always has been my Daddy.  How many women get to be embraced by their parents in this way?  Thank you, Father... for my parents.

 

This running journey, it has been filled with these surprise blessings along the way.  God has hidden so many displays of His affection for me in what started as a spontaneous decision one winter day.  He has answered prayers I hadn't even found time to speak, showed me clearly how near He is to me, and reassured me of His love through a pair of running shoes, and a pink iPod. 

 

 

 

"So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

Isaiah 41:10