Disclaimer: I don’t want this to be anything but a me blog-always..it sounds selfish, but this afternoon, that’s okay. I’m finding Him, Beholding Him, in every step (pun intended) of my life, the good, the bad, the ugly, and the really REALLY wonderful, the really REALLY beautiful.
I won Sonic. Like legit, earned it. Best said by cousin Laura: “How do you recover from a half marathon? Wrap a foam cup of ice around your bum knee, order a master blast, tater-tots and cheese poppers from Sonic.”
My body is sore. Last night, I slept for 13.1 hours, and I have blisters where no woman should have blisters. My legs are tired. My knee has this weird, obnoxious, clicking that is more apparent with each step I take today… (which really is only to go to the kitchen for more water, to the bathroom to dispose of said water, and to bed where I lay as I write to you…and for my professors as life just goes on. But the best pain– my heart, as it is bursting through the seams at this beautiful life. And tomorrow, I will register for the Richmond Marathon, 26.2 miles. Because I. can. do. it. for me, because of Him.
And I think we need to do more things for ourselves. Not in a selfish or self gaining way, but in a way that really, TRULY allows us to love the temple the houses His Spirit. The temple that houses His Spirit in ME, is happy. Like really, REALLY happy. Not as a tall, skinny, blonde, but as a short, “thick,” brunette (with blond-ish highlights), sausage fingers and a double chin, as this beautiful woman (His masterpiece) with a genuine smile that understands what it means to house Him. I’m me, the best me I could be, the me He created and I’m more content with that than I’ve ever been. Because without Him in me, these pains that keep me smiling on this snowy, spring morning, would mean nothing.
Friends, yesterday, I ran a half-marathon. Like for real. I. ran. 13.1. miles. and wait for it– I beat my 2011 half marathon time by 40 minutes. 40 minutes.
And the “too many to count” likes on Facebook only make me smile even bigger. Like, even my cheeks are hurting… and I don’t mean just my glutes.. your support has my face hurting.. that’s why I say, my heart’s hurting too. Because this Love is overwhelming me, I swear my heart, it just might burst. Oh and it hurts so good, so damn good.
This smile, oh just look at it and tell me you see Him in me..because I feel him radiating in this big and crazy and immeasurable way, and I just want you to know! I’m wanting to be so beautiful, just like Him… so beautiful.
He’s moving inside of others to Love me… I’m telling you– I can’t, I just– THIS LOVE that I’m so undeserving of, grace so good, love so big…I have a King who is moving inside of me– lifting me to a higher place, putting a smile on this face.. And I smile because I couldn’t do it without Him giving me them:
and a sister that rubbed my back when I couldn’t sleep because of nerves. a sister who stood in the hotel hallway to pray over me as mom held our hands… that was a special moment, us 3. she lays on the beach with me and gives up a nap to hear my jabber as together we giggle about boys, cry over losses, smile over dreams… she’s been by my side for 27 years, and my smile is more real because of how He uses her in my life.
and these girls. They make me laugh the kind of laugh that says I should have a six pack by now. But instead there’s a content and beautiful curve there that allows realness to live beyond standards. Conversations that we will all regret having with our mothers, but in the end, only brought us closer…and a new way to look at horses, elevators…and I guess walk in closets too. And I smile, because they’re building their legacies into each one of us. Together we learn how to be them. And He lives on. Here–through these smiles.
Because our mothers teach us a special kind of passion. A way to love and be loved, Loved. They are our biggest fans, the ones that cheer us on to keep us going whether we hit a wall and want to stop, or whether we are running a race that’s already been won…amidst a race that is being won. They’re the best part of this life…
and she’s next.
The race was fast. Not just because I broke my PR (personal record) by 40 minutes (that wasn’t it), but because I was reminded how fast (almost too fast) life can move. This weekend that had me treasuring every second of togetherness, every gift of Love, it was coming to an end. Him working in us, those small significant moments, they go by too fast when they’re moving us so big. And I had no choice but to count each blessing right there in every stride–too many to count, so many not to; reminded that I’m alive in Him, moving because of Him (and never wanting to stop).
That’s the thing about running: your greatest runs are rarely measured by racing success. They are moments in time when running allows you to see how wonderful your life is.
and let me tell you, it’s something incredibly wonderful. Something incredibly real and precious. Something beautiful. just like me, His.
ps. someone stop me next time I try and wear a headpiece. please.