Fearless Living

The fear has been the bane of my existence.

From my earliest memories, it's always been there... yapping at my heels... keeping me on the move.

My appreciation for dogs is quite minimal, to say the least.  Ok, so there've been a few over the years that have worked their way onto The List of "tolerable dogs of the world".  The first was Betsy.  She was my Uncle Ray's dog and the first whom I allowed within 10 feet of myself.  My grandparent's dog, Bear, came in second.  He was laid back, friendly and willing to leave me alone.  He made The List as well.

But, oh the memories of the ones who never made The List!  There was the little nasty thing that chased me across the yard at the home of some relatives (whose names I do not recall) in Georgia... or maybe it was Iowa.  Either way, the little monster was possessed.  Had orange eyes that glowed... and fangs that were longer than my pinky finger.   (At least that's how I remember him.)

The Georgia/Iowa dog was joined by Dog-That-Chased-Me-Through-A-Houseful-Of-Ladies-Until-I-Knocked-Over-A-Large-Plant-And-Thoroughly-Embarrassed-My-Mother.  Mom finally forgave me for that in 2011.  (I'm kidding)

By now, I think I can say that I've overcome my fear for the most part, but there are still times when the anxiety rears it's ugly head and I feel like that little girl again... running full speed ahead... Chihuahua on her heels.

When I first considered running, my fear of dogs was one of my concerns.  I scoped out the area and over time deemed my neighboring dogs worthy of The List.

One day while running past my next door neighbors home, I could hear her dog barking.  My heart skipped a beat, until I saw that he was in his kennel so I relaxed and kept running.

Fear is crippling.  God showed me that in a beautiful illustration that morning.

He said, "Lynette, your purpose right now is to run, but if you let your fear of that dog take over, you're going to end up running too fast right now - leaving you with no energy to reach the finish line."

It was an "aha" moment for me.

You see, the thing I feared the most that morning, was right there.   He was so close, I could hear him.  In fact, I could see him.... but he couldn't touch me.  He wasn't given permission to come near me.  The borders of his kennel didn't allow it.  He could make all the noise he wanted, but he couldn't approach.

This world has a limitless supply of "Things To Fear".  But, you were not called to fear-filled living.  Fear-filled living means always looking over your shoulder, panicked running, and exhaustion miles before the finish line. 

Rather, you are invited to living a life of trust.  Of faith.  Of hope. 

God has your life in the palm of His hand... and the things you fear?  When running with God, those things aren't allowed access to your life unless He grants them entrance.

So run with peace for if God allows the barking dogs of your life to come towards you, He'll also give you the strength you need to rise above your fears and keep running.

Your hand in His.

And at peace.

What Am I Missing?

Ty was gone for the week.  Summer camp.  I missed my running partner, but wasn’t about to skip training simply because he was gone.  To my surprise, (and delight) Tim grabbed his tenny’s out of the closet and announced that he’d run with me.

(The fact that I felt sorry for the man and informed my love that he need not apologize if perhaps he find himself unable to keep up with me is beside the point.  As is the fact that he ran the two miles with ease, barely breaking a sweat.) 

(Dork.)

As soon as we rounded the corner out of our driveway, we saw the red and blue lights of several police cars a half-mile away.  So we decided to run that direction.  Naturally.  J

As we approached, we noticed two policemen standing on the side of the road.  No other cars.  No other people.  No nothing.

My interest was peeked, but since my side was hurting… AND I still had a mile and a half to run… AND they weren’t offering up any answers, I kept moving.

Tim and I reached our halfway point and turned around.  Ahead of us, we could see the lights still flashing and again we questioned what was happening.   Our road normally has little traffic – especially at six in the morning, so why were two police cars sitting there for so long? 

My question was soon answered when an ambulance pulled up behind the police and a couple of EMT’s helped a man in handcuffs up and out of the ditch.

I couldn’t believe it.  I had just run through there and never noticed him lying there.  How could I have missed it?

But the question that hung in my mind that day and the days following is this - “what am I missing?”

In this race called ‘life’, my focus is often on my goals, my needs, my hurts, my…  At times I come upon a distraction that actually pulls my attention elsewhere, rather than on the real problem, and I find myself wondering if am I so intent on fulfilling my own desires that I never notice the hurting soul lying in the ditch beside me?

My heart begs for the answer to be “no”, but the unfortunate truth is that sometimes we miss it.  Sometimes we fail to see the pain hidden deep in the souls of those around we.  Sometimes we fail to recognize the loneliness… the hurt… the sorrow… the brokenness. 

Sometimes we miss it.

I love the words I found in Philippians.  It says:

If you've gotten anything at all out of following Christ,

if his love has made any difference in your life,

if being in a community of the Spirit means anything to you,

if you have a heart,

if you care— then do me a favor:

Agree with each other,

love each other,

be deep-spirited friends.

Don't push your way to the front;

don't sweet-talk your way to the top.

Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead.

Don't be obsessed with getting your own advantage.

Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.

Philippians 2:1-4

I find that when I forget myself, in an effort to help another, my own hurts… my own pain… my own needs lose their grip. 

It is there I discover a healing balm for my own weary soul... and it is there I find the strength that is needed to finish strong.

Don't Quit

Ty and I wake early to run.  Sometime before 6 AM, usually.  I love drinking in the beauty of a never-before-seen sunrise.  Even more so, I love the quietness around us with little more than the slap of running shoes hitting the pavement.  (Ok, so, I’m loud.  I’m a loud runner.  Loud breather, actually.  (Is that a word?)  At first, my breathing reminded me of the sounds coming from the laboring heifers giving birth for the first time in the maternity shed next-door to my childhood home.) 

(I’m better now.)

Those first few weeks of running were hard.  Really hard.  Ty was content to run at my painfully slow pace, as well as keep our time.  How I loved the sound of that beep, signaling a walk break.

Running sixty seconds seemed doable.  Walking ninety – heaven below.  But each week, the amounts crept higher and higher.  Believe or not, I actually got scared.

I’ll never forget the evening I sat on the couch, dreading the morning.  Our goal was to run a half-mile and I was petrified.  I hadn’t run that far in years! 

What if I couldn’t do it? 

What if I failed? 

What if I failed… in front of my son?

The next morning came.  I wasn’t impressed.

Ty and I got through our warm ups and off we went.  The first ten yards little bit went well, and I inwardly praised myself for being strong.  But before long, my mind took over and informed me that it was time to stop this personal torture.

I still struggle with that.  My mind.  It’s an interesting analogy to me. 

Life brings with it its struggles.  Some annoying, some insurmountable.  Marriage… parenting… friendships… finances… health… they all take work.   And sometimes, the only option we have it to take another step, or collapse right where we are.

But I learned something while running.

If I let my mind take control, it is all too happy to tell me to “quit”. 

This is too hard.

It hurts.

You’re too old.

Go get ice cream.

Ahh… but my son is watching.

As a mother, that was all it took that morning to dig deep within, ignore the invitations to fail, shift my focus towards the One Who gives me strength, breathe like a cow and keep running.

I looked towards home – our goal – and saw Amy standing in the yard watching us.  More reason to push beyond the pain, and finally, I was there.  I had made it.

And like the push-puppets from my Grandma’s toy box, I collapsed right there in the front yard.

We laugh about that morning now.  Especially now.  A half-mile seems minimal – though we are still far from marathon status.  But I jotted that memory down in my journal.  A reminder to myself as a mother – “your kids are watching you”.

What will they see me do when life gets tough?  Quitting is easiest.  Less painful.  Quicker.  But having experienced the heights of victory, I know I cannot will not fail.  I choose to press on.  To show my children that doing what you set out to do has value.

This world has endless methods for labeling you a “failure”.  Will you accept their prognosis for your lives?  Or is it time to dig deeper, ignore the lies, focus on God’s truth, and keep running.

Breathing like a cow is optional.

Don't burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. 

Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. 

Don't quit in hard times; 

pray all the harder.

Romans 12 MES

Grab My Son and Run

My original plan was ice cream, yet (because of God) it turned into something much better.

Better isn't always easier.   (Hmm.  I wasn't planning on writing that.  Guess I needed to hear that tonight).

But it's true.  The better things in life do not come easily.  And how well I've discovered this in the past 15 weeks of my life.

It began last spring.  Motherhood was getting the best of me and to be honest, I felt more panicked about the impending teen years knocking at my door then I did during the two hours it took to thrust my firstborn’s reluctant self into this world.

Besides the growing frustrations between Tyler and myself, I began to watch other mothers with their sons.  Some encouraged me – gave me hope, while others made my blood run cold with fear.  

One thing I knew.  There is an enemy who has an agenda for my life and that is to destroy every good gift that God has blessed me with.  As a mother, I refuse to sit back and “hope for the best”.  And allowing any opening for Satan to step in and turn my son’s heart against me is not an option.  I will fight for my family… and if it means the battle starts now, then watch out - I’m strapping on my weapons!

Tyler was likely as frustrated as I with our relationship and I felt helpless to change it (hence the ice cream).  It wasn't that our relationship was terrible.  Just frustrating.  Our approach at life is vastly different.  So, my plan was to take him to our favorite ice cream store… enjoy a banana split... find ways to spend more time with him…  learn to understand each other a little better, etc.  But I couldn’t shake that still small voice deep within my heart.

Run.

Great idea!  I began to imagine all the quiet beaches and far-off places I’d escape to… and I couldn’t help but chuckle at my own wittiness… but God wasn’t laughing with me.  (Well, maybe He was just a little.)  

Run!

I heard it over and over again, and to be honest, I hated it.  I don’t like running… or any form of exercise for that matter!  Ice cream would be so much easier!  But like a sculptor chipping away at his creation, God continued to chip away at my will-power heart until my stubbornness allowed me to at least research a running plan.

I was pleasantly surprised.  The Couch to 5K plan was much more attainable than I expected.  I printed it off, taped it to my fridge door and went to find my son.

Ty’s eyes lit up when I asked him.  Would he want to train for a 5K with me?  “You know it, mom!”

First week of training

About to run our first 5K

And we did it!

My heart is full with the lessons I’ve learned along the way (I plan to share them here).

And Tyler and I?  It’s amazing!  He’s grown and I’ve grown (actually, I’ve shrunk a little too!  Can you say 15 pounds and 14 inches?).  Sometimes we talk.  Sometimes we don’t.   But it’s those early mornings together that has deepened our love for each other and produced another special bond that I’ll always treasure.  

And I have to admit, it's better than ice cream.

Day 13 & 14

Whoa!  My days are getting away from me..  Time to play catch up!

Day 13 - I'm thankful today for time change!  Especially in the fall!  It gives me several weeks of waking up around 5AM unable to sleep.  It's amazing how much I can accomplish in the mornings when I embrace the hour, get up and get going!

Day 14 - Those who know me well or going to find this humorous...  :)  I'm thankful for how much better I feel when I exercise.  There, I said it.  I really don't enjoy exercising, but I have to admit, the benefits are beginning to outweigh my momentary discomforts.  So much so, that it looks like I'll be joining a gym until June!  Go me!

I'll post today's thankful as soon as I get the munchkins off to school!