Battered and Fried

A few months ago, I thought it would be a good idea to sign up for a half-marathon. "This is as young as I'll ever be," I reasoned. So I did. I paid the fee, downloaded the beginner's training schedule, resolved to increase my fruit intake, bought a pair of mad expensive running shoes, and got to running at least thrice a week. Actually, "running" may be a bit of a generous term here; "jogging" would be more appropriate.

I am now entering into week 5 of training, and just about ready to throw in the towel. I told my brother -who has completed two half-marathons to date- that I used to be tired all the time. But now, thankfully, I only feel tired and sore all the time.

Today, right after I got home from work, I mustered up just enough energy to climb up the stairs, change into my pajamas, and fall on my bed. I woke up from my restless nap just in time to find out that I missed the monthly all-church prayer. Bah.

The half-marathon will take place at the end of October this year. Just FYI in case you stop hearing from me after that. You'll know why.

Double bah.

I do have to admit, however, that I have been feeling extremely good despite the aches from my long runs. The production of endorphins probably has a lot to do with it, but I am also thankful that I am already getting to experience the value of hard work and discipline. Clich├ęd, but pretty darn true.

The purchase which led to my ramen-noodle diet.


'Tis September

Sometimes, each season feels like an entire year to me. This summer was certainly just like that, and while I will miss the longer daylight hours, I am quite ready for fall to arrive.

I recently thought about where I was, where I am right now, and where I am going, and I couldn't help but marvel at the redemptive work of my good and faithful God.

It was just a few short months ago when every fiber of my being wanted to walk out on God, the church, and this normal Christian life. Many sunny days were spent fuming, driving around town for no reason whatsoever, filling up on worldly junk, and avoiding reality. But even in all of this, God met me. He met me in my anger in the form of a loving sister who spared her Thursday mornings to have coffee with me; He met me in my aimless driving in the form of invitations to friends' homes; He met me in my junk consumption by showing me its temporal joy; and He met me in my avoidance of reality by being the most real thing I have ever known.

I am learning, as much as I do not want to, that I truly need the church, and that forgiving is simply a part of loving. I am also learning, perhaps for the googillianth time, how to accept what is and look to Jesus as the best 'what is' of all time. In short, I have been aging much quicker than I normally do.

I praise Him for carrying me to this moment when I am able to thank Him for the valley. What great things He has done for me, and in me.

Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." -John 6:68