Keep It Up.

Remember that time I said I was no longer a "yo-yo runner"?
I lied.
Truth be told, I've been in a bit of a slump lately.
Emphasis on lump.
If the only problem resulting in my negligence of pounding the pavement was a little more jiggle here or there, I could deal.  The problem is that I psychologically start to loose it.  My mind gets pudgy.  Seriously.
It is imperative to my holistic well-being that I do not fall off the wagon.
This renewal of an already known fact came after two very productive runs this week.  By productive I mean keeping me out of the looney bin.  It was a close one, let me tell you.

I learn stuff.  It makes me weak, which for some reason makes my ear stronger.  And I hear something other than my scrambled, shadowy thoughts.  So enough back story.  Now for the reason I'm through with my sloth binge.
______

Maybe I just need a change of pace? 
So I packed up my tennis shoes and hot pink spandex.  Through which you can see striped underwear.  I found this out the hard way.
I sashayed out of work, my striped bottom to the wall, and headed off down the road.  It was completely deserted, covered by a melancholy grey sky, filled with brisk cold air.  Silver Lake lay framed in a color strewn ridge to the south, the sand dunes in all their yellow sandy glory, capped in brooding billows to the west.
First thought: Dang, this is pretty.
Second thought: Dang, my legs are out of shape.
How easy it is to lose muscle.  Same with 'spiritual' muscle.  Same with 'all of life' muscle.  If you wanna do well at life, you've gotta do the work.  Hello wake up call.
Again.
As I was pondering this theme for about the millionth time in the past few months, David Crowder was singing something about Jesus in my headphones.  Just about Jesus' name.  Saying it over and over.
I have to be honest and say that gets on my nerves.  But between my labored breaths, I realize that sometimes, I need to say things over and over again to get it into my thick skull.  Sometimes it takes twenty times in the span of a few minutes hearing 'Jesus' to help me remember how amazing it is that Jesus is a part of this Story, of my story.  He chose to take on death that I might live.

And if THAT wasn't enough to think about, I started thinking about balance.  About focusing on Jesus while not losing sight of all the rest of it.  "I came not to abolish the law and the prophets but to fulfill them." [Matt. 5:17]  Of knowing God and following Jesus.  I'm not sure if you are following me here, but I was thinking about how hard it is and I heard,

"You're doing fine child.  You're figuring it out.  Keep at it."

Thank you.
I needed that very much.

_______


Pentwater is the place.
The leaves as bright as ever.
The sky carrying the sun's fading light.

"Human beings are hope shaped creatures." -Tim Keller

We are off to a good start.

"The way you live now is completely controlled by what you believe about your future." -Tim Keller

Kidney punch.  Bam.

The way you live now is completely controlled by what you believe about your future.
Now, my first reaction was obviously to think about my own life.  What else do I think about besides that anyway?
What do I believe about my future me, and are my current actions shaping the present me into the projected future me?  All very science-fiction, but seriously.  It sounds like something my Mom would say.  She probably already has.  Keller probably stole that quote from her.
Do I believe that I'm going to find a job I love? Do I believe I'm going to get married and like it? Do I believe that I'm going to grow and mature into one of those really great women I admire? Are my current doings, lending themselves to those outcomes?

Shockingly however, Keller was not just talking about me when he said these profound words.  He was talking about slaves.  And the persecuted.  Those in hopeless situations.  He was talking about dark circumstances.  And the hope we have that something better to come. The hope we must have if we're going to live in the torn up world.  Again, [cynical, proud me] I scoff at those I feel are to focused on Heaven, shirking their responsibility to bring what little bit of goodness they can to earth now, and just biding time until they can go 'be with Jesus'.

But we are hoped shaped creatures.  We need a carrot on the end of a stick.  It sounds trite, and I admit I don't like it, but I need a reward in the end!  Maybe I just need to rephrase it as needing hope and not a carrot to feel okay with that.  How can we expect to get through really dark times if there isn't a light at the end of the tunnel?  There's no point to keep going! Keller gave the example of negro spirituals, explaining that many of the songs focus on the things to come.  In the face of extreme cruelty, they needed to have hope that injustice would be taken care of and that there was something better in store.

I was going to try and describe more of his examples but just listen to it for pete's sake.  It's really good.  iTunes Podcasts, Redeemer Presbyterian, Tim Keller, 9/30/11.  Be encouraged.
_______

We are hoped shaped creatures.  There is something worth enduring for.  When it comes to running, all of that heart shaping, kick in the face, o-so-good, truth is worth stinging lungs and burning legs.

"You're doing fine child.  You're figuring it out.  Keep it up."

Seconds.

So apparently I've given up on writing and have taken to just posting snippets.  Ah, well.
Here's another sweet musical video awesomeness post because someone else shared it and I thought it was cool so I did too.  So much for creative thought, eh?

Read and Repeat.

...for God gave us not a spirit of fear but of power and love and self-control.

second timothy one:seven.

Go ahead.
Read it again.

Favorite.

I can not get enough of this song. 
One day, may it be true with me.

Compliments of 30/30.

The author of Hebrews, "unknown except by God" according to Origen of Alexandria just finished writing about dead works, thorns and thistles and the eventual burning of worthless things such as these.  And after a bit of a fright, reassures them of the following.

Hebrews 6: 9-12
Though we speak in this way, yet in your case, beloved, we feel sure of better things—things that belong to salvation. For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do. And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.

Sometimes passages that are meant to cut, pierce or softly shed light on my disobedience leave me feeling dismayed and well, incredibly unfit for this "following" lifestyle.  I mean, I'm trying really hard, but I still manage to produce some thistles now and again.  This mystery writer seemed to understand that discouragement at my frequent failure to do what I know I want to do often results in a feeling of sluggishness.  I've been peddling for awhile.  So why continue trying if I am still wobbling around like a graduated tricycle rider with no training wheels?

Frankly, I get tired.  Tired of picking myself back up, dusting myself off, and trudging up this long, lonesome, narrow path.  And I will now call on some learning found in my love/hate relationship: hiking. I can recall several many moments this summer, on my short hike this fall, on any hike, where I wonder why on God's green earth am I choosing to subject myself to this level of misery.  There are times when it's awful.  Absolutely and utterly awful.  Blisters, bugs, bad knees, broken backs from bulging packs, bad sleeps with no beds, and butt-burning hills.  You are sweaty, dirty, tired and hungry at least ninety percent of the time on a real honest to goodness hiking trail.  And oddly enough, you do it all for that measly ten percent.  That miniscule ten percent where you see a spectacular view.  Miles and miles of trees and ridges, valleys and lakes.  What keeps you going is that, "you feel sure of better things", the things that lie on the tops of those mountains.  I roll up my sleeping bag, and fill my pack time and time again, with "earnestness" even, despite my tried and true knowledge of the doom that surely awaits.  Another crazy thing about hiking is that when you finish, you longingly look back at your time in the woods.  Yearning for that ten percent, and madly enough, also yearning for the sheer anguish you underwent to get there.  Well, maybe not yearning for it.  But appreciating it none-the-less.  A quiet respect of the hard work completed.  A subtle feeling of accomplishment.

"So keep on truckin',"  said mostly to myself.  I know you have a blister on your little toe, woke up to a goat bleating outside your tent, cannot possibly imagine eating another protein bar, smell like the inside of a shin guard, and will probably contract some sort of disease from scratching open your multitude of mosquito bites, but God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do. And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.

A Ray

Absolutely lovely.

30/30

I need some inspiration.

Thirty mintues for thirty days.

That's right.  I've made up a corny slogan.  Like something you'd hear on a late night infomercial.  If that doesn't say inspiration station I don't know what will. 

I started this morning.  And it mostly sustained me. 
Thirty mintues for thirty days.  And for a limited time you can read about them here for FREE.

Except for your time...which some people say is money...in which case reading this might not be free.