The Failure Forest

flickr image by daniel_sh

I haven't run for 6 weeks because of some low back/hip/sciatic/inflammation issues. (Yes it's multiple choice on what this condition is!) After 3 months of physical therapy and 3 different physical therapists I've been given the "okay to run". This is life giving to me. Suh weet.

In this season I have discovered some things about my mental mood when I'm not running. I don't like not running. I don't like how I feel and when I'm not running, it's easy to make excuses to not run.

The drip of endorphins had totally gone dry. Mentally it was easier to be brought down. There is the constant back and forth in my mind not landing wholly on clarity. Leave. No stay. No leave. No stay. Then there's the full serving plate (and I'm not talking food). I love to serve others. It's one of my spiritual gifts, ya know, and when I don't feel satisfied I fill that plate up like a pasta carbo load before a marathon, (by the way I don't pasta load).  

My doctors and physical therapists still can't pinpoint what has my back in stressed mode but it's not exercise induced. Praise God! I think it has something to do with a stressful job and sitting in a chair all day.

So for Lent I gave up cookies, cake, candy, candy bars, and sweets in general. I also gave up the need for outside affirmation. That's a difficult one. Sometimes just cracking jokes is enough to give me affirmation. So not sure how I gave that up.  

Yesterday I did a last minute fast. I was driving to the doctors having fasted through the night and morning for blood work. So I thought, "Well I've fasted this long, how about fasting all day?" 

Unfortunately I didn't approach it with a wisdom mindset so I was just praying that magical prayer that God would let me know what to do. "Leave." or "Stay." I truly wanted to hear one of those. Nope. I didn't. I have a feeling though that if I encountered the burning bush with a big sign that said, "Janet, leave." I'd still question whether it was me he was talking to or some other Janet. I want my God to be specific, not general.

I've been reading If You Want to Walk on Water, You've Got to Get out of the Boat by John Ortberg. I read it 12 years ago and it applied for that chapter of my life and it applies today too. My reluctance to change all gets down to fear. If I do this, it equals that. Or so I think. If I change direction like I did 7 years ago and fail again, it means that I'm not really good at what I'm told I'm good at. It means that I didn't listen 7 years ago, for the same reasons that I may not be listening now. It means I may have a certain amount of determination to get out of a situation that is toxic, stagnant, and life sucking. It means that I have to trust God all over again in something that I have yet to figure out 7 years later why I was in a situation that was hell.

I've failed at many things but I try to keep it at a minimum. I recover. So why do I fear it? I don't want to keep running back to God with the same old complaints. Somehow I don't think God minds that I run back to him.

The cave of failure offers a precious chance to learn. But we must be willing to ask courageous questions:
Am I chasing the right dream?
Is what I'm pursuing consistent with God's calling on my life?
Am I operating out of what God made me to do, or out of my own needs for appearing important and significant?
Am I willing to remain in the cave if it means being true to God?–Ortberg

Some days it's really hard to see the forest for the trees.

Run Forrest run!

Seize the J

I'm on the edge of losing it—the pain in my gut keeps burning. I'm ready to tell my story of failure ... I have many aggressive enemies; they hate me without reason. They repay me evil for good and oppose me for pursuing good. Psalm 38:17-20

My Left Hamstring

photo: St. Peter's Episcopal Church
San Pedro

Last year I took a challenge from a Purpose Driven Life devotion to trust God. It's not like I think about not trusting God, but there are areas of my life that I like to be "all in" and "hands on". Purpose Driven Life specifically said to "Ask God to help you give your trust to him." Hmmm. Ask God for that trust? Okay I can do that. 

I have to say I didn't see much happening for the 1st 6 months or so. Life happened in the day to day. So in June I asked myself, "What am I doing asking God to help me trust him?" What if I did it the bold way and said, "God I trust you with this. I don't know what you're doing, but I trust you do."

So whenever something came up that I wanted to get my hands and mind involved with, I'd say to God, "I trust you God with this." I trust you with this day. I trust you with this relationship. I trust you with my job. I trust you with this 10 mile run. I trust you with my health. I trust you with my life. I trust you know what's going on because I don't.

And so it goes.

And little by little I began to trust. Not because I was asking for trust but because I said, "I trust." Whether I felt like I was trusting or not, I put it out there that I was trusting.

It's a little like doing my training runs on those hot summer mornings. The kind I love that are all thick with humidity and 90 degrees at 8 o'clock in the morning and the trails are a welcome place to run because of the shade. I didn't know if I could run the 8 miles on my training log that day. What would my feet feel like, what about my knees, how much pain when it was over? Well now I know there's nothing I like more than an 8 mile run. And so I began to trust that I'd get through that 8 mile run, and that 10 mile run and eventually the 13.1. (And my feet and knees felt fine. It was the summer skin heat rash that was painful!)

I can't say that I have the trust thing all cornered down. I'm not saying that there aren't times when I want to take it back and get my hands all dirty in the mud pie of it and that I make a decision on my own that doesn't feel like trust. There are mornings when I look in the mirror after a sleepless night of tossing and turning over something that left me puzzled or tears staining my brain. When that uncertainty crept in and I asked, "What am I doing in this?" It followed that, "I don't know what you're doing God, but I trust you that you do."

I've discovered my trust and faith is like my left hamstring, I know it's there, but I have to exercise it, tighten it on cue to feel it.

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It's our handle on what we can't see. (Hebrews 11:1 MSG)

Faith makes us sure of what we hope for and gives us proof of what we cannot see. (Hebrews 11:1 CEV)

Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see. (Hebrews 11:1 NLT)

Happy New Year!

Seize the J

I Know Where Love Lives

My run:walk shoes, 
my 5K shoes, 
and my 10K and beyond shoes.

I’m in love. With running. I know it's love because I think about it all day. I want the best for it. I have a lot of self-control, patience, and endurance. And I run my own race. 

This season I have run seven 5Ks (3.1 miles), am training for a 10K (6.2 miles) in a week, a 10 miler in a month, and a 1/2 marathon in 2 months.

I think about my training for the evening, the route I'll take, the mileage of a long or short run, hills or speed or race pace, treadmill, trail, asphalt, or track. I think about upcoming races I want to run. I think about the race I just ran. I think about the people I run with and the food I eat! I think about timing and shoes and watches and heartbeats, and serotonin and endorphins dripping down my brain like sweat dripping down my back. 

I think about days of rest and recovery (ahhh, a Sabbath for the runner.)

Take me with you; come, let's run. (Song of Songs 1:4 NLT) 

So what are you in love with right now? Person, place, or thing. Name it and claim it here.

Where does your love live?

Seize the J