I have a friend who has a bucket list. I thought she was a bit too young, but then as I saw her cross items off of her bucket list and continually add more, I was inspired!
At first I had no idea what I would put on my bucket list. I wondered if I just didn't have things I wanted to do before I died. But I do, I just hadn't thought about it.
First I was thinking of things like "ride in a hot air balloon" or "travel to Rome." But the more I thought about it the more I don't care if I do those things. These are things for other people, but my list will be mine. And because they're my items, I'm sure many of them won't be understood by those who aren't me. All that matters is that I have my list, and that it's a work in progress.
(These are in no particular order. Just whatever happens to come to me as I make this list.)
1. Run the Air Force Half Marathon (goal, 2013)
2. Run the Air Force Marathon (goal, 2014)
3. Run the Flying Pig Half (I want the medal with the pig butt on it)
4. Run the Indy 500 Half (I want to run on the race track!)
5. Run the Disney Princess Half Marathon. With a tutu and tiara.
6. Take my mom to Honduras.
7. Attend a wedding in Honduras.
8. Be fluent in Spanish.
9. Have a child to tell me their life is better because I was there.
10. Travel to all 50 states.
11. Become a member of Mensa.
12. Visit Scotland (and then reread the Outlander series).
13. Meet Michael W. Smith (and be able to talk).
14. Sing harmony with Michael W. Smith (yeah I know it's a long shot).
This is it for now. There's about 20 other items going through my head but I need to think about them further and really make sure they need to be added to the list. Because once they're on the list, they're not coming off.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Stories from Honduras - Part 3
This is the story that is probably the hardest to tell, and yet, the one you've been waiting to hear. Everyone wants to know what happened when I met Ana, my sponsor girl. Well, I had imagined it would be all smiles, hugs, laughing, and lots of chatting and getting to know each other. I didn't expect Ana to be the most incredibly shy 12-year-old I've ever met. She's absolutely beautiful, and she's taller than I expected! And she's creative, and talented, and so incredibly sweet. But she's not a talker. And she's not goofy/dorky like me. And saying goodbye wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. But we made a connection, and I feel much more attached to her than I did before I made the trip to meet her. And for that it was worth it.
Let me start at the beginning. We met at Zizima water park in San Pedro Sula. There were 36 sponsors meeting 40+ sponsor children, plus one of their parents, their project director, and anyone else who may have traveled with them. And then everyone got a translator, and those with several sponsor children (and family and project directors) got several translators. So basically there were around 200 of us at Zizima.
So how do you pair up the sponsor, with their sponsor children, the people who traveled with them, and the translators? One at a time.
We all sat on the buses (two of them) with a huge group of people out in front of Zizima waiting on us. They called out the child's name, then found a translator, then they would come on one of the buses trying to find the sponsor. As we got off the bus we'd hand our camera to one of the leaders and they would take photos of us meeting our sponsor children - most of us for the first time.
So one by one we watched our new friends be able to finally hug the children they had been writing to and praying about for so long. And I kept watching and taking photos, and watching and taking photos... and I started to realize that I was going to be one of the last to meet their sponsor child. I wasn't last, but I think I was next to last.
Finally the moment came. Poor Ana looked so overwhelmed by everything. I gave her a quick tight hug and then we headed into the water park.
Ana didn't say much that day, but I could tell she was trying. Our translator, Maria, was 15 years old (16 in November) and a High School student. (They had to find over 50 translators and so they found High School students who were fluent in English.) Maria had never translated before, but she did a great job and Ana definitely trusted her. I think it helped to have someone close to Ana's age.
The three of us hung out on the lazy river, floating in tubes, and then went to the wave pool and hung out there too. In the afternoon we played volleyball for awhile. Ana said she liked volleyball, but Maria didn't really know how to play. There were seven on our team, and four on the other and we still didn't do very well. But we laughed and had a great time.
I got to talk to Ana's mother and her project director and ask questions about Ana progress. They both told me about how incredibly shy Ana used to be and that's she's really come out of her shell. Really? The phrase "painfully shy" comes to mind. It meant that much more to me that Ana was asking me questions and answering my questions.
At the end of the day it was gift time. I had some items for Ana, her mom, her dad and her brothers. I gave her a photo album with some pictures of Dayton and some bits and pieces of my life. I wrote out my favorite scriptures in Spanish and put them in the photo album too. And then I told Ana that I love her, I care about her and she's important to me. I told her that I think she's very creative, that I believe in her, and that I want her to dream big dreams. That is the one thing I really wanted her to know.
And then they left. I hugged them all and said goodbye and they left the park. As I was standing there by myself I watched as other children were crying and clinging to their sponsors. I felt like I did something wrong, that maybe I should have asked them to stay longer, or maybe I should have tried harder to connect with her so she wouldn't have left so quickly. Honestly, I was disappointed and I started questioning if we even connected at all.
Once we got back to the hotel I had some time by myself to reflect and think about the day. When I finally stopped comparing my experience to everyone else's I started realizing that I had a wonderful day with Ana. That she's 12, incredibly shy, and that just hanging out talking about our favorite music, our favorite food, our favorite colors, etc. was probably the best way to spend time with her. I look back at the pictures that were taken and I see Ana smiling in most of them. That means the world to me.
I think it was more difficult to get some of the older kids to open up. Several other sponsors with older kids voiced the same concerns that I did. That's when I have to remind myself that it's not about what *I* get out of the experience, it's about showing them love, giving them hope, and helping them succeed. I intend to continue to pursue a friendship with Ana and get to know her better through letter writing. And hopefully when I see her again, it won't be so overwhelming.
A moment comes to mind... later in the day Maria told me that I was a lot of fun. Maria told Ana what she said and Ana agreed. I guess goofy/dorky can be translated. Having a 12 year old and a 15 year old tell me I'm fun feels like a win.
I've posted some of the photos I took while waiting on the bus. I was sitting in the front and thankfully I got to snap some photos of sponsors meeting their children. If these photos warm your heart, maybe you'll consider sponsoring a child? Start here... http://www.compassion.com/
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| Inside the water park |
So how do you pair up the sponsor, with their sponsor children, the people who traveled with them, and the translators? One at a time.
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| Taken from inside the bus. I see Ana! |
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| Do you see Ana? She's way in the back in the middle wearing a black and pink shirt. |
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| Meeting Ana. |
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| I see a smile. :) |
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| The shirt I'm wearing is Ana's artwork. |
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| Ana, me, and Maria |
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| Part of the lazy river. |
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| The wave pool. |
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| Ana, me and her mom. |
And then they left. I hugged them all and said goodbye and they left the park. As I was standing there by myself I watched as other children were crying and clinging to their sponsors. I felt like I did something wrong, that maybe I should have asked them to stay longer, or maybe I should have tried harder to connect with her so she wouldn't have left so quickly. Honestly, I was disappointed and I started questioning if we even connected at all.
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| Most of the group. (Several families had left by this point.) |
I think it was more difficult to get some of the older kids to open up. Several other sponsors with older kids voiced the same concerns that I did. That's when I have to remind myself that it's not about what *I* get out of the experience, it's about showing them love, giving them hope, and helping them succeed. I intend to continue to pursue a friendship with Ana and get to know her better through letter writing. And hopefully when I see her again, it won't be so overwhelming.
A moment comes to mind... later in the day Maria told me that I was a lot of fun. Maria told Ana what she said and Ana agreed. I guess goofy/dorky can be translated. Having a 12 year old and a 15 year old tell me I'm fun feels like a win.
I've posted some of the photos I took while waiting on the bus. I was sitting in the front and thankfully I got to snap some photos of sponsors meeting their children. If these photos warm your heart, maybe you'll consider sponsoring a child? Start here... http://www.compassion.com/
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| Becky meeting her girl. |
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| Dianne and her sponsor girl. |
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| Brenda meeting her sponsor child. They played volleyball with us too. |
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| Brenda and her son's mom. |
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| Mac with one of their sponsor kids. |
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| Lisa with another of their sponsor kids. |
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| Shelly meeting her sponsor girl. |
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| Cat and her sponsor child. |
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| Todd and his sponsor boy. |
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| Joan's girl couldn't even wait for her to get off the bus! :) |
Monday, October 22, 2012
Stories from Honduras - Part 2
(Part 1 can be found here: http://cyndidee.blogspot.com)
In Part 1 I mentioned a game we played with some kids. I forgot I have it on video! Here it is...
I want to tell you about Bayron. When I was balloon twisting Bayron came up to the table and watched me make a dog and then a sword. He told me (through the translator helping me) that he knew how to make a sword. So I blew up a balloon and handed it to him and he made a sword.
I asked him if he wanted me to show him and another boy how to make balloon dogs. So I handed both of them balloons and walked them through making balloon dogs. And then they gave the dogs they made to the children standing around watching.
Then Bayron told me he knew how to make a different type of dog. I asked him where he learned how to make his dog and he said he watched a man on TV. He did a great job making his dog, even down to measuring all the parts of the dog so it would come out even. I heard someone say "he's going to be a clown when he grows up." I corrected her and said "no, he's going to be an engineer."
Bayron helped me make more swords and balloon dogs. He always waited for me to blow up a balloon and hand it to him. He also helped the children decide what balloons they wanted. I was really impressed by Bayron. By how quickly he picked up ballooning, how he calculated the parts of the dog so they'd come out even, and how polite and helpful he was.
When I saw him later, I found a translator to help me to tell him something. I wanted to tell him that I was going to try to find his sponsor and tell him what a great kid he is. And tell him about how much he helped me and how smart he is. And then I told Bayron that his sponsor would be so proud of him. He gave me a hug and thanked me. He was definitely excited.
Only 1% of sponsors visit their children. My girl, Ana, is one of the special few who get to meet their sponsor. Bayron may never meet his sponsor, but Bayron got to meet me. For all those children who don't get to meet their sponsors, I want to be a surrogate sponsor. I wish I could contact all the sponsors of the kids I met and tell them how amazing their kids are. And I hope every child I met knows how amazing we think they are.
One of the things I told Ana before we had to say goodbye was that I love her, I care about her, and she's important to me. And that I believe in her and that I want her to dream big. I wanted to tell her so much more, but in that moment, that's what was in my mind. I hope my words sink in, I hope she believes them. I hope they have an impact on her life. I hope other sponsors can tell their sponsor children the same thing, whether in person or through a letter.
When I left HO-329 I wasn't sure I would ever see Bayron again. He touched my life and I won't soon forget him. I'm going to try to write to him, but it's a little more difficult since he's not my sponsor child. However, something amazing happened after I got back home from my trip. Jason has decided to sponsor a boy in Honduras. He's chosen a boy in the same project as Bayron. Which means that when we go to visit our sponsor kids next summer, I will hopefully see Bayron again. And this time I'm bringing balloons and a pump for him.
Here's the video of Bayron and his balloon dog. (If you've made balloon dogs, you'll notice his is different.)
In Part 1 I mentioned a game we played with some kids. I forgot I have it on video! Here it is...
I want to tell you about Bayron. When I was balloon twisting Bayron came up to the table and watched me make a dog and then a sword. He told me (through the translator helping me) that he knew how to make a sword. So I blew up a balloon and handed it to him and he made a sword.
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| Bayron with the balloon dog I showed him how to make. |
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| The boy in the middle is the other one who made a balloon dog. |
Bayron helped me make more swords and balloon dogs. He always waited for me to blow up a balloon and hand it to him. He also helped the children decide what balloons they wanted. I was really impressed by Bayron. By how quickly he picked up ballooning, how he calculated the parts of the dog so they'd come out even, and how polite and helpful he was.
When I saw him later, I found a translator to help me to tell him something. I wanted to tell him that I was going to try to find his sponsor and tell him what a great kid he is. And tell him about how much he helped me and how smart he is. And then I told Bayron that his sponsor would be so proud of him. He gave me a hug and thanked me. He was definitely excited.
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| Bayron with some friends. He's giving me a peace sign. :) (Click on the picture to see it larger.) |
One of the things I told Ana before we had to say goodbye was that I love her, I care about her, and she's important to me. And that I believe in her and that I want her to dream big. I wanted to tell her so much more, but in that moment, that's what was in my mind. I hope my words sink in, I hope she believes them. I hope they have an impact on her life. I hope other sponsors can tell their sponsor children the same thing, whether in person or through a letter.
When I left HO-329 I wasn't sure I would ever see Bayron again. He touched my life and I won't soon forget him. I'm going to try to write to him, but it's a little more difficult since he's not my sponsor child. However, something amazing happened after I got back home from my trip. Jason has decided to sponsor a boy in Honduras. He's chosen a boy in the same project as Bayron. Which means that when we go to visit our sponsor kids next summer, I will hopefully see Bayron again. And this time I'm bringing balloons and a pump for him.
Here's the video of Bayron and his balloon dog. (If you've made balloon dogs, you'll notice his is different.)
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Compassion Trip to Honduras - Part 1
I got back from Honduras just over a week ago and I'm still being blown away by the experience. I've been to Honduras five times from 2006 to 2010 with Heart to Honduras (hth.org). This time I traveled with Compassion International (compassion.com) on a group trip for sponsors to meet their sponsor children. And this was a COMPLETELY different trip than those I've taken before!
With previous trips we did constructions projects and medical clinics. With this type of work we were pushed for time to complete our projects. When children would come visit us, we would ask them to stay out of the way out of concern for their safety. We were also asked not to give them any sort of gifts but we would sneak them candy sometimes.
However with this trip the focus was on children, and it was suggested that we bring gifts not only for our sponsor children, but for the many other kids we were visiting. So I packed two suitcases (one large, one small) full of gifts for my sponsor girl, Ana, her family, and also for the different projects we would visit. (And yes, I packed clothes and personal items also.)
The first day we got to play with the kids from our first project (HO-328) was a national holiday (Columbus Day for us) so the kids were out of school. Many children showed up to play, not just the children from the project, but many more.
They warned us to only give out stickers around small groups of children. I tried this, but the moment I got out stickers, the kids would start pushing forward trying to get to the stickers. Our trip leader, Brad, rescued me by taking the stickers out of my hand and putting them away. Other times we would try, and we would say "una fila por favor" (one line please) but they'd keep pushing. Roxana (most awesome roommate ever) separated them into boys (ninos) and girls (ninas) and they were a little better at getting into a line. There was still cutting and pushing going on.
I got frustrated and in my mind I kept thinking "this isn't what they really want." I put my stickers away and started to try a hand-clapping game (like See See My Playmate) but the girls didn't seem to understand what I was doing. However, they showed me a game they play (with the help of one of our translators).
I'm not sure how to describe it but everyone stands in a circle with their right hand on top of the next person's left hand. Then my left hand was under someone else's right hand. They would do a sing-song chant and clap the hand of the person to the left. This would go around the circle a couple of times, and then they would start counting in English. On "ten" they tried to slap the hand in their left hand. If they got the person, that person was out. If not, then they were out. Then the circle would get smaller. We played this until there were one child left. We had a great time. And it was much better than trying to hand out stickers. ;)
However, I started to notice something that surprised me. When we gave them stickers, they'd give them to the other children, and back to us - by sticking them on our cameras and name tags. I'm not sure if they were being generous or if they just liked sticking them on things (and people). Regardless, they didn't try to hold on to them, they wanted to share them.
I have to mention another story that I, unfortunately, didn't get to witness. Several times that week we split into four different groups and would do home visits of sponsor children (all of whom are living in poverty). We got to see what their houses looked like and could ask their family how Compassion has changed their lives. It was a great experience. One of the other sponsors handed a little boy a sheet of stickers. He looked at the stickers and then he started crying. It seems that he was that overwhelmed by the gift of a sheet of stickers.
The next project we visited was a little different. On our second day we had a VBS setting with face painting, balloons, crafts, and a Bible story (Noah and the ark) with stickers. Most of the children there were from the project and we didn't see quite as many kids. I did balloon sculpting and was ready for a rush of kids wanting dogs, swords, butterflies or hats. I taught a few of the other sponsors how to do balloon dogs and swords and at one point we had several on the table waiting for kids to come up and want one. (The rush for balloons never happened.)
I noticed something amazing. The children walked around to the different tables and took turns doing crafts, getting their faces painted and getting balloons. They didn't push, they didn't cut, and they didn't whine about having to wait. In fact, one boy came up and asked for a second sword. When I asked where his first one went, he pointed to a little girl who was playing with it. So I made him another sword. This actually happened a couple more times with other kids.
Time and again these children surprised me. My expectations of how they would react when we gave them stickers, or balloons, or candy, other little gifts were blown apart. I thought they would be greedy for something they didn't have. I thought they would want to hold onto the items and not let them go, because who knows when they would ever get another one.
Instead it was like they enjoyed the moment so much that they wanted to make sure their friends experienced it also. And maybe when we enjoyed giving them the item, they enjoyed it as much when giving it to someone else. Is this the mindset of children who have grown up with very little? Is it because these children have listened to their lessons about love, kindness, sharing, and giving? I'm not sure, but I hope to someday find out why these children are so different from my previous experiences.
I have so many other stories to blog about, but I'll take a break for now. I also need to share my meeting with Ana and her mom, about an impressive boy named Bayron, meeting Heart to Honduras people from Arizona with a ministry we might be interested in, and of course all the crazy awesome things God was doing behind the scenes. I need to do this quick though, before I start forgetting details.
With previous trips we did constructions projects and medical clinics. With this type of work we were pushed for time to complete our projects. When children would come visit us, we would ask them to stay out of the way out of concern for their safety. We were also asked not to give them any sort of gifts but we would sneak them candy sometimes.
However with this trip the focus was on children, and it was suggested that we bring gifts not only for our sponsor children, but for the many other kids we were visiting. So I packed two suitcases (one large, one small) full of gifts for my sponsor girl, Ana, her family, and also for the different projects we would visit. (And yes, I packed clothes and personal items also.)
The first day we got to play with the kids from our first project (HO-328) was a national holiday (Columbus Day for us) so the kids were out of school. Many children showed up to play, not just the children from the project, but many more.
They warned us to only give out stickers around small groups of children. I tried this, but the moment I got out stickers, the kids would start pushing forward trying to get to the stickers. Our trip leader, Brad, rescued me by taking the stickers out of my hand and putting them away. Other times we would try, and we would say "una fila por favor" (one line please) but they'd keep pushing. Roxana (most awesome roommate ever) separated them into boys (ninos) and girls (ninas) and they were a little better at getting into a line. There was still cutting and pushing going on.
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| The crowd around Roxana grew as the children realized she was giving out stickers. |
I'm not sure how to describe it but everyone stands in a circle with their right hand on top of the next person's left hand. Then my left hand was under someone else's right hand. They would do a sing-song chant and clap the hand of the person to the left. This would go around the circle a couple of times, and then they would start counting in English. On "ten" they tried to slap the hand in their left hand. If they got the person, that person was out. If not, then they were out. Then the circle would get smaller. We played this until there were one child left. We had a great time. And it was much better than trying to hand out stickers. ;)
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| Helping two girls with their stickers. |
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| Showing my name tag with stickers on it. |
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| One of the home visits I was part of. |
I noticed something amazing. The children walked around to the different tables and took turns doing crafts, getting their faces painted and getting balloons. They didn't push, they didn't cut, and they didn't whine about having to wait. In fact, one boy came up and asked for a second sword. When I asked where his first one went, he pointed to a little girl who was playing with it. So I made him another sword. This actually happened a couple more times with other kids.
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| Making a sword for the boys. (Photo by Tom Baer.) |
Instead it was like they enjoyed the moment so much that they wanted to make sure their friends experienced it also. And maybe when we enjoyed giving them the item, they enjoyed it as much when giving it to someone else. Is this the mindset of children who have grown up with very little? Is it because these children have listened to their lessons about love, kindness, sharing, and giving? I'm not sure, but I hope to someday find out why these children are so different from my previous experiences.
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| Saying goodbye to the kids at HO-329. |
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Air Force Marathon Weekend
I was actually planning on doing the Air Force 5k, but it's the night before the marathon and it's at Wright State, not at the base. I kept hearing about what an amazing experience it is, running on the base, so I decided I would do the 10k. My first 10k (6.2 miles). The one problem, it was sold out. It sold out in May, 4 months before the event!
There was a transfer program where people can give their registration to someone else. It was a one-time shot with 2-week window. Thankfully when I posted on the Air Force Marathon facebook page, someone contacted me. He registered for the 5k, 10k and half marathon. (This is called the "triple crown." It's actually possible to do all three.) He decided he would be unable to do the 10k, so he transferred his registration to me.
And so the training started. I ran 2-3 miles twice a week and then would run a longer distance on Saturdays. The week before the 10k I did 5.75 miles, and I knew I was ready. The plan was to run 3 miles, walk a half a mile, run a mile, walk half a mile and then run the last mile. I had my energy Jelly Bellies, my long-sleeved technical shirt, running skort, non-cotton socks, and broken-in running shoes.
There was a runner's expo at the Nutter Center the two days before the marathon. The bib and t-shirt pick up was at the expo, along with many vendors selling everything a marathon runner might need. A friend who is new to running came with me to the expo. We had a great time looking at the t-shirts, headbands, and shoes and got quite a few freebies. I ended up getting a t-shirt that says "If I collapse, pause my Garmin." (Other favorites were "WTF - Where's The Finish," "This seemed like a good idea 3 months ago," and "If found on the ground, drag across the finish line.") I also got a headband that says "Will run for cupcakes."
The day before the race I had anticipated being nervous and excited all day and not being able to concentrate at work. Instead, the day started with an aura, a sure sign a migraine was going to hit. I quickly took some ibuprofen and asked Jason and some other friends to pray for me. I got a headache, but it never got as bad as a migraine. However, I had other symptoms like being sensitive to light and sound, and being nauseous. I ended up leaving work early and going home to nap. Not the day I had planned at all. I got some carbs at dinner and headed to bed early.
The alarm went off the day of the marathon at 5:00 am. I checked the weather and it was 49 degrees and it was going to drop 2 more degrees before the sun came up. I was so thankful to have Jason with me to hold the layer of sweats I wore over my running clothes. I call him my pit crew. (Love him!) We got out the door at 5:40 am and got to the Air Force Museum before 6am. Parking was quick, but we were in the pitch black darkness. I almost ran into someone standing next to our car. It was about a mile to the starting line (I used my Garmin), but we got there about an hour before the start.
The 10k starts at the same time as the marathon and we run with them for the first 3 miles (I think). It was so great to be there with so many expert runners. I watched them to see if I could learn anything but really, other than some of their stretches and all the gel packs around their waists, they seemed like my friends and me. I got in line with those that were planning on finishing in 5 or more hours - the very back of the pack. And yet these marathon runners still seemed so impressive to me. They were there to have fun, and to just finish.
The sun came up shortly before the opening ceremony started. Someone was talking, but we couldn't hear them. Then there was the fly-over. In Dayton this usually means some bombers flying over in formation. However, this morning it was a stealth bomber, flying slowly over the line of runners waiting to start. It was amazing to watch, and so surprisingly quiet.
The crowd moved forward to the start line and then we waited. Normally I can barely hear the gunshot at the start of the race, so I was just waiting for the group ahead of me to start running to know we had started. Not this time. I'm not sure what they use, but I'm pretty sure it was some sort of cannon. Not only could I hear it, but I could FEEL it. I waited almost 4 minutes, but finally I was across the start line and my 10k had started.
I had to keep checking my Garmin to make sure I wasn't running too fast. I knew the pace I wanted to keep and was able to keep it up for most of the race. I found a group with a similar pace and stayed with them for awhile. I remember thinking that I just wanted to take in every detail, remember every moment. The morning seemed perfect - it was finally warmer and the sun was just above some of the buildings on base.
Some of the unexpected things - there was a juggler with 4 apples that was ahead of me until he dropped one of the apples. There were two kids running with their parents with t-shirts that said "my first 10k." Everyone was cheering them on. There were clothes strewn all along the course as people got warm and took off a layer. (People go to Goodwill to get these clothes. I wonder if someone collects all of them and gives them back to Goodwill.) There were also bands along the course which made things more fun. And the lines for the porta-potties in the first 3 miles was a bit unbelievable.
Before we got to the first mile we hit a long hill. I tried to run up it, but when everyone else around me was walking I knew it was time to take it slower and walk up the rest. Around the first mile (after another hill), I started looking for a hydration station. I was thirsty and started getting a headache. I was surprised that the first one was at 1.5 miles. After this it was about every mile. I was so thankful that they were offering water and Gator-aid, so I had both.
I remember passing a fire station, another band, and then suddenly we were at mile 2. I couldn't believe how fast it was going. When we were going up another hill I started walking again. A man next to me said he wasn't expecting to walk so much at the beginning and I agreed with him. He started telling me that he had a titanium plate in his arm and he was still freezing. He said he'd warm up around 1pm, about the time he finished the marathon. I laughed and then we started running. I really wanted to ask him why he had a titanium plate in his arm; what happened? I should have said Good Luck but then he was off running again.
There were also a group of airmen with backpacks running in formation along with us. They would do a cadence once in awhile but after I passed them I couldn't hear them anymore. Jason said a group finished in front of me, so either they found a short cut or there was another group in front of me.
Around mile 3 we started to hear "marathon to the right, 10k to the left, marathon to the right, 10k to the left." At first I was only hearing "to the right" and couldn't understand why people were still going to the left. I figured out quickly that this is where we split off and stayed to the left. I had no desire to do an addition 20 miles.
The group thinned out and we started running along 444. After this we only got water at the hydration stations. I guess only the marathoners get the Gator-aid. Around 4.5 miles a low-flying plane suddenly came flying over the trees. I was wondering if this was the fly-over for the half-marathoners who started an hour after us. Jason later told me that there were three parachutists with American flags who jumped out of the low-flying plane. And then a moment later there was that cannon shot again - I could feel it more than I could hear it.
We turned a corner and there were the half marathoners running towards us. They do a similar course to the marathoners, but backwards. I looked for my friends who were doing the half but then we parted ways before I got to where they were. (They were further back in the group of runners.) We ran around some buildings, followed the path of the first mile and saw the same band we first came across. I could hear the announcer cheering on those close to the finish line and announcing their names as they crossed. I couldn't believe it was almost over!
When there was about half a mile left I felt like I had enough energy left to pick up the pace and "finish strong." (I hate it when people say this. Normally just finishing is all I can do and there's nothing strong about it.) As I was approaching the last turn I saw a man with a sign that said "the Kenyans are drinking all the beer." I guess people call the fastest runners Kenyans. I had to laugh. As I ran the final stretch people were clapping and holding up signs and because my name was on my bib, they were also cheering me on personally. "Keep going Cynthia, almost there!"
And then there was that moment that everyone tells me about, running under the wings of the airplanes as you approach the finish line. I started sprinting and gave it everything I had. (I glanced at my Garmin, about an 8:30 pace. Woot!) I ran over one of the strips on the ground that reads your chip and was thinking that couldn't possibly be the finish line, people were still running past it. I then realized that's how they know who you are as you cross the finish line.
As I ran across the finish they announced "Cynthia Parsons has crossed the finish line!" I heard Jason yelling my name and I ran to him (he was behind a divider) and gave him a huge hug. There were so many people cheering, it was just the most amazing moment. They directed me to some queues where I received my medal and then they took my picture. I then went through the food tent and got Gator-aid, chocolate milk (it's the new thing to drink after a race), and a piece of bagel. (Unfortunately I wasn't aware that once you leave this area you're not allowed to go back, so I didn't end up getting a piece of pizza.)
At some point a headache had started, not surprising, I usually have a headache after a long run. It's usually from a sodium imbalance and drinking a bouillon cube usually helps this. So we headed back to the parking lot. We couldn't remember where we parked and the numbered flags in the parking lot weren't visible in the darkness when we arrived. We kept hitting the lock button on the key fob and finally were heard out car beeping at us. It took another half an hour to get out of the parking area even though there was little traffic. I'm still not sure what the problem was, but there was only one exit and there was no security assistance to get us out. I guess it was still too early.
We hit Tim Horton's and I got my crack, I mean coffee, and we headed home. I wasn't feeling good, I think the nausea from the previous day was still hanging around a bit. I ended up drinking the bouillon cube and then taking an hour nap and then I was finally able to eat something and drink my coffee. I took it easy the rest of the day and then that evening we headed out to the after-party at the Greene. By then thankfully my headache was mostly gone.
First we hit Cake, Hope and Love where I got my free cupcake for running the 10k. Yes, I was wearing my medal. Jason got a cupcake too and we put them in my purse (they were in to-go containers) and headed to meet some friends at the Pub. We parked behind the Greene and walked through the open area where the fountain is. There was a band playing the the place was packed with people wearing their Air Force Marathon t-shirts and medals. It was awesome.
There was a transfer program where people can give their registration to someone else. It was a one-time shot with 2-week window. Thankfully when I posted on the Air Force Marathon facebook page, someone contacted me. He registered for the 5k, 10k and half marathon. (This is called the "triple crown." It's actually possible to do all three.) He decided he would be unable to do the 10k, so he transferred his registration to me.
And so the training started. I ran 2-3 miles twice a week and then would run a longer distance on Saturdays. The week before the 10k I did 5.75 miles, and I knew I was ready. The plan was to run 3 miles, walk a half a mile, run a mile, walk half a mile and then run the last mile. I had my energy Jelly Bellies, my long-sleeved technical shirt, running skort, non-cotton socks, and broken-in running shoes.
There was a runner's expo at the Nutter Center the two days before the marathon. The bib and t-shirt pick up was at the expo, along with many vendors selling everything a marathon runner might need. A friend who is new to running came with me to the expo. We had a great time looking at the t-shirts, headbands, and shoes and got quite a few freebies. I ended up getting a t-shirt that says "If I collapse, pause my Garmin." (Other favorites were "WTF - Where's The Finish," "This seemed like a good idea 3 months ago," and "If found on the ground, drag across the finish line.") I also got a headband that says "Will run for cupcakes."
The day before the race I had anticipated being nervous and excited all day and not being able to concentrate at work. Instead, the day started with an aura, a sure sign a migraine was going to hit. I quickly took some ibuprofen and asked Jason and some other friends to pray for me. I got a headache, but it never got as bad as a migraine. However, I had other symptoms like being sensitive to light and sound, and being nauseous. I ended up leaving work early and going home to nap. Not the day I had planned at all. I got some carbs at dinner and headed to bed early.
The alarm went off the day of the marathon at 5:00 am. I checked the weather and it was 49 degrees and it was going to drop 2 more degrees before the sun came up. I was so thankful to have Jason with me to hold the layer of sweats I wore over my running clothes. I call him my pit crew. (Love him!) We got out the door at 5:40 am and got to the Air Force Museum before 6am. Parking was quick, but we were in the pitch black darkness. I almost ran into someone standing next to our car. It was about a mile to the starting line (I used my Garmin), but we got there about an hour before the start.
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| Looking at the starting line around 6:30 am |
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| Looking at the starting line around 7:00 am |
The sun came up shortly before the opening ceremony started. Someone was talking, but we couldn't hear them. Then there was the fly-over. In Dayton this usually means some bombers flying over in formation. However, this morning it was a stealth bomber, flying slowly over the line of runners waiting to start. It was amazing to watch, and so surprisingly quiet.
The crowd moved forward to the start line and then we waited. Normally I can barely hear the gunshot at the start of the race, so I was just waiting for the group ahead of me to start running to know we had started. Not this time. I'm not sure what they use, but I'm pretty sure it was some sort of cannon. Not only could I hear it, but I could FEEL it. I waited almost 4 minutes, but finally I was across the start line and my 10k had started.
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| Ready to run! |
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| The crowd waiting to start |
Some of the unexpected things - there was a juggler with 4 apples that was ahead of me until he dropped one of the apples. There were two kids running with their parents with t-shirts that said "my first 10k." Everyone was cheering them on. There were clothes strewn all along the course as people got warm and took off a layer. (People go to Goodwill to get these clothes. I wonder if someone collects all of them and gives them back to Goodwill.) There were also bands along the course which made things more fun. And the lines for the porta-potties in the first 3 miles was a bit unbelievable.
Before we got to the first mile we hit a long hill. I tried to run up it, but when everyone else around me was walking I knew it was time to take it slower and walk up the rest. Around the first mile (after another hill), I started looking for a hydration station. I was thirsty and started getting a headache. I was surprised that the first one was at 1.5 miles. After this it was about every mile. I was so thankful that they were offering water and Gator-aid, so I had both.
I remember passing a fire station, another band, and then suddenly we were at mile 2. I couldn't believe how fast it was going. When we were going up another hill I started walking again. A man next to me said he wasn't expecting to walk so much at the beginning and I agreed with him. He started telling me that he had a titanium plate in his arm and he was still freezing. He said he'd warm up around 1pm, about the time he finished the marathon. I laughed and then we started running. I really wanted to ask him why he had a titanium plate in his arm; what happened? I should have said Good Luck but then he was off running again.
There were also a group of airmen with backpacks running in formation along with us. They would do a cadence once in awhile but after I passed them I couldn't hear them anymore. Jason said a group finished in front of me, so either they found a short cut or there was another group in front of me.
Around mile 3 we started to hear "marathon to the right, 10k to the left, marathon to the right, 10k to the left." At first I was only hearing "to the right" and couldn't understand why people were still going to the left. I figured out quickly that this is where we split off and stayed to the left. I had no desire to do an addition 20 miles.
The group thinned out and we started running along 444. After this we only got water at the hydration stations. I guess only the marathoners get the Gator-aid. Around 4.5 miles a low-flying plane suddenly came flying over the trees. I was wondering if this was the fly-over for the half-marathoners who started an hour after us. Jason later told me that there were three parachutists with American flags who jumped out of the low-flying plane. And then a moment later there was that cannon shot again - I could feel it more than I could hear it.
We turned a corner and there were the half marathoners running towards us. They do a similar course to the marathoners, but backwards. I looked for my friends who were doing the half but then we parted ways before I got to where they were. (They were further back in the group of runners.) We ran around some buildings, followed the path of the first mile and saw the same band we first came across. I could hear the announcer cheering on those close to the finish line and announcing their names as they crossed. I couldn't believe it was almost over!
When there was about half a mile left I felt like I had enough energy left to pick up the pace and "finish strong." (I hate it when people say this. Normally just finishing is all I can do and there's nothing strong about it.) As I was approaching the last turn I saw a man with a sign that said "the Kenyans are drinking all the beer." I guess people call the fastest runners Kenyans. I had to laugh. As I ran the final stretch people were clapping and holding up signs and because my name was on my bib, they were also cheering me on personally. "Keep going Cynthia, almost there!"
And then there was that moment that everyone tells me about, running under the wings of the airplanes as you approach the finish line. I started sprinting and gave it everything I had. (I glanced at my Garmin, about an 8:30 pace. Woot!) I ran over one of the strips on the ground that reads your chip and was thinking that couldn't possibly be the finish line, people were still running past it. I then realized that's how they know who you are as you cross the finish line.
As I ran across the finish they announced "Cynthia Parsons has crossed the finish line!" I heard Jason yelling my name and I ran to him (he was behind a divider) and gave him a huge hug. There were so many people cheering, it was just the most amazing moment. They directed me to some queues where I received my medal and then they took my picture. I then went through the food tent and got Gator-aid, chocolate milk (it's the new thing to drink after a race), and a piece of bagel. (Unfortunately I wasn't aware that once you leave this area you're not allowed to go back, so I didn't end up getting a piece of pizza.)
At some point a headache had started, not surprising, I usually have a headache after a long run. It's usually from a sodium imbalance and drinking a bouillon cube usually helps this. So we headed back to the parking lot. We couldn't remember where we parked and the numbered flags in the parking lot weren't visible in the darkness when we arrived. We kept hitting the lock button on the key fob and finally were heard out car beeping at us. It took another half an hour to get out of the parking area even though there was little traffic. I'm still not sure what the problem was, but there was only one exit and there was no security assistance to get us out. I guess it was still too early.
We hit Tim Horton's and I got my crack, I mean coffee, and we headed home. I wasn't feeling good, I think the nausea from the previous day was still hanging around a bit. I ended up drinking the bouillon cube and then taking an hour nap and then I was finally able to eat something and drink my coffee. I took it easy the rest of the day and then that evening we headed out to the after-party at the Greene. By then thankfully my headache was mostly gone.
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| Yes it's a real medal |
First we hit Cake, Hope and Love where I got my free cupcake for running the 10k. Yes, I was wearing my medal. Jason got a cupcake too and we put them in my purse (they were in to-go containers) and headed to meet some friends at the Pub. We parked behind the Greene and walked through the open area where the fountain is. There was a band playing the the place was packed with people wearing their Air Force Marathon t-shirts and medals. It was awesome.
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| One pumpkin cupcake, one chocolate pumpkin cupcake, one cupcake headband and one Air Force 10k medal |
At the Pub we hung out with some friends who also ran that day. We also got to meet others who had run the marathon, including a group of guys from California, and a local family where all five ran one of the races. It was a great ending to an incredible day.
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| Starting at the top left, full marathon medal, half medal, 5k medal, 10k medal (mine), half medal. Each one an amazing accomplishment! |
Monday, April 2, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
What do jewelry and children in Honduras have in common?
So excited! This excitement came out of nowhere after I stressed for so long, so I thought I'd blog it. Because I have a feeling that the stress (and freaking out) will return at some point.
As you probably very well know, I love going to Honduras on mission trips! I've gone six times but the last time I went was in 2010. Quite a bit has changed since then. The church in Honduras that we visit has a new pastor (and a different congregation from what I understand), the ministry we travel with (Heart to Honduras) has changed quite a bit, and Jason and I attend a different church now. (We're at Crossroads Vineyard, a church plant of the Dayton Vineyard.) So I wasn't sure if I would go back to El Quebracho, this year or ever.
I prayed about it and decided to go to Honduras with Compassion International this year. It was a difficult decision but after I put my deposit down I felt a peace about it. Compassion International works with Heart to Honduras, so I'll still be part of that ministry. However, my focus this time is visiting my sponsor child (Ana Melissa) and assisting with the programs in Honduras that reach out to the children.
I'm traveling in October, though the exact dates seem to change with each email I get. And the remaining amount of money is due in June. My usual means of funding my mission trips is through income tax return (already spent) or savings (needed for other things this year). I've also decorated cakes, done clowning, and odd jobs for friends to raise the money. It's all a bit sporadic but God never fails to surprise me with how the money will come in.
And this year is no different. I've decided this year that I'm going to raise money to go to Honduras by selling Premier Jewelry. I've tried other multi-level-marketing companies and so I'm very aware of what I'm getting into. (Honestly I never thought I'd do another one. Especially with my busy schedule.) However, I love playing with jewelry. I've had several very successful parties, and therefore quite a bit of jewelry. And it really seems low risk (after doing Mary Kay anyway).
I had a jewelry party in January and did really well. (I think I got $400+ in free jewelry.) Several work friends ordered items from the catalog and when I brought in their orders I asked to see what they got. We all stood in the hallway while each woman opened their boxes and showed off their pieces of jewelry. Each box held something beautiful and we all oooh'd and aaaah'd over what was inside. It was like Christmas. Quite fun! (Even for those who didn't order any jewelry.)
(I think from now on I'm having a jewelry pick-up party so everyone can see what the other ladies ordered. Seeing the pieces in real life is always so much more impressive than seeing a flat photo in a catalog.)
Anyway, all of this is falling into place. I feel like I'm a couple steps ahead of where I should be because I'm so ready to do this. (My upline, Stephanie, has been answering questions from me on almost a daily basis. I know I'm not driving her crazy, yet, but I'm sure I will soon.) My goal is to hold 10 parties by the end of June. At that point I'll reassess if I want to continue doing this or if I want to take a break until my next mission trip.
Any encouragement is greatly appreciated, whether it's through praise, prayer, parties, or purchases. (Oooh, I like that.)
What do jewelry and children in Honduras have in common? The love of one will allow me to love on the other. :)
As you probably very well know, I love going to Honduras on mission trips! I've gone six times but the last time I went was in 2010. Quite a bit has changed since then. The church in Honduras that we visit has a new pastor (and a different congregation from what I understand), the ministry we travel with (Heart to Honduras) has changed quite a bit, and Jason and I attend a different church now. (We're at Crossroads Vineyard, a church plant of the Dayton Vineyard.) So I wasn't sure if I would go back to El Quebracho, this year or ever.
I prayed about it and decided to go to Honduras with Compassion International this year. It was a difficult decision but after I put my deposit down I felt a peace about it. Compassion International works with Heart to Honduras, so I'll still be part of that ministry. However, my focus this time is visiting my sponsor child (Ana Melissa) and assisting with the programs in Honduras that reach out to the children.
I'm traveling in October, though the exact dates seem to change with each email I get. And the remaining amount of money is due in June. My usual means of funding my mission trips is through income tax return (already spent) or savings (needed for other things this year). I've also decorated cakes, done clowning, and odd jobs for friends to raise the money. It's all a bit sporadic but God never fails to surprise me with how the money will come in.
And this year is no different. I've decided this year that I'm going to raise money to go to Honduras by selling Premier Jewelry. I've tried other multi-level-marketing companies and so I'm very aware of what I'm getting into. (Honestly I never thought I'd do another one. Especially with my busy schedule.) However, I love playing with jewelry. I've had several very successful parties, and therefore quite a bit of jewelry. And it really seems low risk (after doing Mary Kay anyway).
I had a jewelry party in January and did really well. (I think I got $400+ in free jewelry.) Several work friends ordered items from the catalog and when I brought in their orders I asked to see what they got. We all stood in the hallway while each woman opened their boxes and showed off their pieces of jewelry. Each box held something beautiful and we all oooh'd and aaaah'd over what was inside. It was like Christmas. Quite fun! (Even for those who didn't order any jewelry.)
(I think from now on I'm having a jewelry pick-up party so everyone can see what the other ladies ordered. Seeing the pieces in real life is always so much more impressive than seeing a flat photo in a catalog.)
Anyway, all of this is falling into place. I feel like I'm a couple steps ahead of where I should be because I'm so ready to do this. (My upline, Stephanie, has been answering questions from me on almost a daily basis. I know I'm not driving her crazy, yet, but I'm sure I will soon.) My goal is to hold 10 parties by the end of June. At that point I'll reassess if I want to continue doing this or if I want to take a break until my next mission trip.
Any encouragement is greatly appreciated, whether it's through praise, prayer, parties, or purchases. (Oooh, I like that.)
What do jewelry and children in Honduras have in common? The love of one will allow me to love on the other. :)
Monday, January 23, 2012
Getting over "religion"
Have you seen this video yet? If not, take a moment to watch it. I'll wait... (to read the poem, click this link: http://www.box.com/s/z3k53ec3ssbo800ppeld)
Every time I watch it I get something else out of it. But the part that always hits me the hardest is where he says about church "it's not a museum for good people, it's a hospital for the broken."
I grew up going to church every Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday night. I wasn't allowed to wear jeans to church except maybe once in awhile on a Wednesday night. My mom let us dress up for Halloween but we weren't allowed to talk about it at church. The teens in youth group would pass around "smuggle tapes." You know, the ones we weren't supposed to listen to. (Mine were Wilson Phillips and Nelson. Scandalous!!)
I liked pushing limits back then. The church frowned on jeans skirts and black clothing. (Guess what I bought as soon as I went to college.) One time I wore two different socks and two different earrings to a church picnic. (Hey, it was the 80's.) My mom was called and told not to let me wear such things because I was a bad influence on the younger kids. She didn't care, but she tried to explain to me that it was viewed as rebellious and the elders at church didn't appreciate it.
I could go on and on, but you get it. I learned how to be a good Christian by being conscious of how I portrayed myself. Good Christians wear conservative clothes, have conservative haircuts, listen to conservative music, read conservative books, and watch conservative TV shows. We didn't seem to make any decisions ourselves but let the church decide for us what was good and bad, right and wrong.
What slowly happened to me is that I started to judge others by their clothes, their haircuts, their music, their books, and their TV shows. I started to judge people if they didn't act like a good Christian.
Then something horrible happened to me. I ended up divorced at age 23. I was ruined. I was told that God couldn't use me anymore, my testimony was tainted. I was worthless to God. And amazingly, I believed this for a long time.
One day I found a church where people wore jeans (and shorts!) to church. They had mohawks and dreads. They listened to alternative music (this was the 90's) and some of the were even Democrats. I wasn't sure about this church but I had a feeling they wouldn't judge me for being divorced.
I have been attending this church (and now a church plant from this church) for 14 years and I'm definitely not judging people by their looks or their backgrounds anymore. However I've recently realized that I'm still trying to appear as the "good Christian." Seriously, anyone who's been around me for any length of time will hear about all my trips to Honduras. Or how long I've been going to church. Or something along those lines.
Lately I feel like God is stripping away those things I hide behind to appear like I'm a good Christian. I'm not. I try to pray every day, but I sometimes forget. And I definitely don't pray for more than a few minutes. I try to read my Bible a few times a week but honestly, when I pull out my ipad to do my daily reading, I end up going to cnn.com or facebook. But boy I can pretend like I pray and read my Bible every day.
But I think where it's most obvious is that I don't have the right attitude about people. (And if I do, wow do I pat myself on the back.) I gossip, I point out faults, and I laugh. I withhold compassion and understanding because somewhere in my heart I feel like they deserve what they're getting. (But I don't.)
Like I said, lately God has broke me down about these things. I guess that's why my blog has turned into a confessional.
Bottom line, I'm trying to be a good Christian in my own efforts. I'm trying to tell God what it takes for him to love me (and others). I'm trying to lean on my past achievements to keep a spiritual high going (that's honestly long faded). I want to be what God wants me to be but I'm trying to take the easy way out. I keep thinking I've found a short cut, but I'm just going in circles and getting more and more frustrated.
I turn everything over to God time and time again and then within a few days I take it back from him because he's not moving fast enough. I tell him I want to be closer to him, but then don't take the time to get to know him - to talk to him or sit and just listen.
And I wonder why he has the patience for me. I think of Paul and how he said he was the worst of all sinners. That's hard for me to believe, but I didn't know him personally. But I think if I was honest with myself (and you) then I'd claim to be the worst of all sinners (or one of the worst). I may not be a murderer, but I'm a liar. I've been lying to myself and lying to the people around me - trying to appear to be something I'm not.
I'm not a good Christian. I'm a pretty horrible Christian. And yet he still loves me. He's still patient with me. He's still waiting for me to get my priorities straight. And he'll give me chance after chance after chance to keep trying. Just keep trying.
There was a song on the radio that just hit me. "Busted Heart (Hold on to Me)" by For King and Country. It's not the type of song I'd usually like but the lyrics got to me. (Video with lyrics...)
Every time I watch it I get something else out of it. But the part that always hits me the hardest is where he says about church "it's not a museum for good people, it's a hospital for the broken."
I grew up going to church every Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday night. I wasn't allowed to wear jeans to church except maybe once in awhile on a Wednesday night. My mom let us dress up for Halloween but we weren't allowed to talk about it at church. The teens in youth group would pass around "smuggle tapes." You know, the ones we weren't supposed to listen to. (Mine were Wilson Phillips and Nelson. Scandalous!!)
I liked pushing limits back then. The church frowned on jeans skirts and black clothing. (Guess what I bought as soon as I went to college.) One time I wore two different socks and two different earrings to a church picnic. (Hey, it was the 80's.) My mom was called and told not to let me wear such things because I was a bad influence on the younger kids. She didn't care, but she tried to explain to me that it was viewed as rebellious and the elders at church didn't appreciate it.
I could go on and on, but you get it. I learned how to be a good Christian by being conscious of how I portrayed myself. Good Christians wear conservative clothes, have conservative haircuts, listen to conservative music, read conservative books, and watch conservative TV shows. We didn't seem to make any decisions ourselves but let the church decide for us what was good and bad, right and wrong.
What slowly happened to me is that I started to judge others by their clothes, their haircuts, their music, their books, and their TV shows. I started to judge people if they didn't act like a good Christian.
Then something horrible happened to me. I ended up divorced at age 23. I was ruined. I was told that God couldn't use me anymore, my testimony was tainted. I was worthless to God. And amazingly, I believed this for a long time.
One day I found a church where people wore jeans (and shorts!) to church. They had mohawks and dreads. They listened to alternative music (this was the 90's) and some of the were even Democrats. I wasn't sure about this church but I had a feeling they wouldn't judge me for being divorced.
I have been attending this church (and now a church plant from this church) for 14 years and I'm definitely not judging people by their looks or their backgrounds anymore. However I've recently realized that I'm still trying to appear as the "good Christian." Seriously, anyone who's been around me for any length of time will hear about all my trips to Honduras. Or how long I've been going to church. Or something along those lines.
Lately I feel like God is stripping away those things I hide behind to appear like I'm a good Christian. I'm not. I try to pray every day, but I sometimes forget. And I definitely don't pray for more than a few minutes. I try to read my Bible a few times a week but honestly, when I pull out my ipad to do my daily reading, I end up going to cnn.com or facebook. But boy I can pretend like I pray and read my Bible every day.
But I think where it's most obvious is that I don't have the right attitude about people. (And if I do, wow do I pat myself on the back.) I gossip, I point out faults, and I laugh. I withhold compassion and understanding because somewhere in my heart I feel like they deserve what they're getting. (But I don't.)
Like I said, lately God has broke me down about these things. I guess that's why my blog has turned into a confessional.
Bottom line, I'm trying to be a good Christian in my own efforts. I'm trying to tell God what it takes for him to love me (and others). I'm trying to lean on my past achievements to keep a spiritual high going (that's honestly long faded). I want to be what God wants me to be but I'm trying to take the easy way out. I keep thinking I've found a short cut, but I'm just going in circles and getting more and more frustrated.
I turn everything over to God time and time again and then within a few days I take it back from him because he's not moving fast enough. I tell him I want to be closer to him, but then don't take the time to get to know him - to talk to him or sit and just listen.
And I wonder why he has the patience for me. I think of Paul and how he said he was the worst of all sinners. That's hard for me to believe, but I didn't know him personally. But I think if I was honest with myself (and you) then I'd claim to be the worst of all sinners (or one of the worst). I may not be a murderer, but I'm a liar. I've been lying to myself and lying to the people around me - trying to appear to be something I'm not.
I'm not a good Christian. I'm a pretty horrible Christian. And yet he still loves me. He's still patient with me. He's still waiting for me to get my priorities straight. And he'll give me chance after chance after chance to keep trying. Just keep trying.
There was a song on the radio that just hit me. "Busted Heart (Hold on to Me)" by For King and Country. It's not the type of song I'd usually like but the lyrics got to me. (Video with lyrics...)
"Winter has come back again,
feels like the season won't end
My faith is tired tonight
and I won't try to pretend
I've got it all figured out
That I don't have any doubts
I've got a busted heart
I need you now."
The next song on the radio was something about God making you beautiful. I love these songs because I think people (women AND men) need the reminder that what God considers them as beautiful creations. And God's beauty is not the same as the world's beauty.
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| This woman is beautiful to me, Mama Maggie Gobran. |
I want that kind of beauty.
Then the next song on the radio was "Your Grace is Enough" by Chris Tomlin. This song has always bugged me because it's such a simple song (and you sing it over and over and over....) But these songs all together started to show me something.
Trying to be a good Christian by doing it myself, or by using a short cut, is like trying to have God's beauty by applying makeup. (I have a visual of one of those women who's had too much plastic surgery and too much makeup.)
It's like trying to get to heaven by following a check list. By doing all those "good" things and not doing all the "bad" things. (Funny, when I was little I was told Catholics believed this way but it was the Baptists who showed me how to do it.)
Getting into heaven isn't about saying a prayer and you're done. It's not about getting my ticket punched and that's it. (Our pastor, Eric Wright, says this a lot.) So many people say it's about relationship, not religion, but then they don't want to allow a relationship to develop and they push what to do and not to do. I consider that "religion."
When you have a relationship with God, he'll tell you what to do, and what not to do. And it might be completely different than what he tells someone else. Because each relationship is different, and relationships change over time.
I'm putting all this out there because I'm trying to make a change. I'm trying to alter my thinking. That it's not about making sure I appear like I have it all together, but that I'm just me. That I let go of my ego and how great I think I am. (Like the mouse and the elephant crossing the bridge and the mouse says to the elephant "boy I really made that bridge shake!")
I wonder how transparent I am to my friends. I wonder if they've seen all the make-up I've been putting on trying to show God's beauty. (I cringe at the thought.) But I wonder if they're as tired and frustrated as I am, trying to live up to expectations God didn't set for us.
These expectations are so ingrained in my brain, I wonder when I'll ever be able to lay them all down. I wonder why I keep trying to carry them around. They're too heavy, too much of a burden. I don't want them anymore.
The church isn't a museum for good people, it's a hospital for the broken.
I've got a busted heart, I need you now.
Hold on to me.
God made me beautiful.
His grace is enough. His grace is enough for me.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Getting into 2012
This is the continuation of the Christmas letter that never got sent out. My family is used to getting a hand-made card or a photo card from us, but this year I decided we would send out a Christmas letter. However, I dropped off my laptop in Olive Hill, Kentucky on Thanksgiving weekend to get fixed and didn't get it back until a couple days before Christmas. My Christmas card list and all my addresses were on this laptop. The letter never got sent, so I thought I'd blog it.
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| At a Japanese restaurant in Florida around Thanksgiving. |
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| Our new kitchen. |
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| Jason trying on his nursing uniform. |
We’ve also decided that we’re happy with just the two of us. (Translation: we’re not trying to get pregnant any more.) We may look into adoption in the future, but for now it's just not on our hearts.
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| Meet Rocky! |
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| Izzy and Rocky enjoying a sunny warm day in January. |
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| Christmas in Olive Hill, Kentucky |
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| Dad says I'm going through my mid-life crisis a bit early. I think he's right. |
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