Moses and Zits

Running for me has one MAJOR setback. One that I absolutely detest.

As I increase my mileage a strange metamorphosis occurs. I do get stronger. I have more energy. I have greater stamina. Most of the time I lose weight (not always, I love food too much). I feel better, happier. I am less stressed and generally more pleasant to be around. Many times when I get grumpy, my wife tells me to go for a run, that's how beneficial it is to me. You see running does the body and soul good...for the most part.

The amount of time I spend running is evident when you see me. It is written on my face. Acne. Zits. Pimples. It drives me crazy. Every time I start to gear up my training or running I revert to those dreaded teen years when all I could do was cry myself to sleep with a jar of Noxzema and Clearasil (or ProActiv for all you youngsters out there.) There is nothing I can do to prevent it. I know there has to be a scientific explanation involving increased testosterone production or something crazy like that. Maybe it has to do with me being so hairy. I don't know. All I know is that when I run farther and harder I get zits. I just want to put a bag over my face. (no smart remarks needed)

So I guess you are wondering where I am going with this. Sit back, you're not going to believe this. As I ran this morning complaining to God about reverting back to my adolescence, griping about how everyone will see my "wonderful complexion." I was reminded of Moses. Yeah, Moses.

Read Exodus 34. Cool chapter. Moses spent 40 days and nights with God on Mount Sinai(He had to replace those 2 stone tablets he broke). When he came down from spending 6 weeks alone with God "his face was radiant." Aaron, his brother, and all the Israelites were scared to death to look at him. All of Israel believed that if a man looked on the face of God they would surely die. God shined through Moses so much that this earthly man's family, friends, acquaintances didn't even want to come near him. They saw God when they looked at Moses. It got to be so bad that Moses had to put a veil over his face whenever he was with his people. He had to walk around town with a bag on his head. The only time he took the veil off was when he went alone to talk to the all mighty.

I hate the fact that the appearance of my skin is directly proportional to the amount of running I do. The sad thing is that the look on my face is also directly proportional to the amount of time I spend with my God.

I really wish I had to wear a bag on my head (no smart remarks needed).

My Wife

Let me start off by saying, "I love my wife." This year we will celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary. I asked her to marry me and in a moment of weakness she said yes. Actually she asked "is that ring real?" Anyway you get the drift.

If you have never met my wife, she is one of a kind. First and foremost she loves the Lord, with all her heart. She soaks up the word of God at every opportunity. Cathy is also extremely intelligent. I hate to say it but she graduated ahead of me in high school. If Cathy wanted to be a nuclear physicist she would go to school at night, while having 2 jobs, taking care of our family and still graduate first in her class a year ahead of schedule with a minor in brain surgery. She is funny. I mean, really funny. Sometimes when she starts laughing, she cant quit. I wish you could hear her. It's hilarious. Her sense of humor is witty, clever,.... I don't know how to describe it. One last thing that is interesting about Cathy is her mastery of "the art of persuasion". She doesn't believe this, but its true. If you ever sell your soul to the devil, Cathy can talk the devil into giving it back to you. She is that good....which brings me to Tuesday morning.

The alarm went off at 5:00am. Time for me to get up and log 4 to 5 miles. I am exhausted. I have been staying up late and not resting well. I decide to reset the clock and go back to bed...but I made the mistake of waking Cathy in the process. "Aren't you going to get up and run?" "No, I am so tired. I really need to sleep." "You should run." "Cathy, I am worn out." "You know you'll feel better, if you go run." "I don't want to run, I want to sleep."....nothing.....nothing...

So needless to say I finished 4 miles that morning. It was refreshing in the cold morning air. My pace was faster than normal. I had gotten plenty of sleep. She was right, I did feel better. Cathy even asked me that morning after all the kids were up getting ready for school.."Don't you feel better now?" I responded jokingly, "I'm not answering, I'm supposed to be mad at you?" She laughed. She was right.

Thank you Cathy for persuading me to get out of bed. Thank you for holding me accountable. Thank you for re-enforcing my commitment to running.

What if we did that for each other when it comes to our spiritual lives? Checking on each others devotion to the word, worship, and fellowship. What if someone made you think hard about how serious you are when it comes to the things of God? Would you be more apt to follow through on your commitment to him? What if, when you didn't want to study his word or do what he has asked you to do, someone loved you enough to say, "Aren't you going to run today?" "You should run."

"You know you'll feel better if you run." You need someone like my wife.

and again I say Rejoice?

Lately I have a lot of stuff fumbling around in my mind while I run. I wanted to write about not being able to choose the right clothes to wear. Running with this semi-bald head, goatee, and mustache is a new experience for me. I wanted to write about the wreck I saw on Sunday. It bothered me. I wanted to write about overheating in the dead of winter. I wanted to write about how my wife made me get out of bed this morning when I didn't want to... but I can't. All I can think about is my need to rejoice in the midst of my pain.

I am not currently "in pain", I think. I have had very few times in my life when I truly knew I was suffering. Granted, I have probably had trials and tribulations during my brief 43 years on this planet, but most of the time I would not characterize those troubles as "suffering."

The most difficult period in my life was the death of my father. It was and is terrible. At first everything went on cruise control. Many things had to be taken care of, from hospital bills to vehicles, from lawyers to preachers. Just put on the business face and get it done. After the majority of the busy work was done reality set in. I became confused, I guess that's the best way to describe it. Cathy said I was often angry. I couldn't tell. What I could tell was that I cried a lot. I could not make decisions. How weird is that? Imagine going to a restaurant with your friends, staring at the menu and only seeing scrambled letters.... Choosing what to drink was a task. What should I wear today? No way would I ever dare to drive dad's truck.

What I remember most was my inability to stay in a worship service. The last thing I wanted to do was sing, "You give and take away, my heart will choose to say, Blessed be the name of the Lord." I hated that song. "This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it." Are you serious? Be glad? One Sunday I just got up and left. I couldn't sit in the sanctuary for one more minute. It's not that I didn't believe in God. It's not that I didn't believe in his love for me. It's that I didn't want to talk to him. And I definitely didn't want to praise him. Does that make me a bad person? Does that mean I'm not a Christian? Does that mean that God doesn't care about me anymore?

I believe that God understands. I also believe that I missed a great chance, an opportunity to see God work in a new way. God inhabits the praise of his people, at least that's what the bible says. That means that when we praise God, we experience his presence in a new and more intimate way. I was so ticked off at God that I could not bring myself to praise him. By doing that, I kept him from helping me when I needed him the most. That's easy to see and say now.

As I run all I can think about is the people in my life that are in their "midnight hour". My friends going through divorce, my friends in court, my friends enduring sickness, my friends unable to pay their bills, my friends.... How do I explain this to them? I can't. The last thing I wanted to hear was, "Just praise the Lord and this will all work out to his glory." I would have punched you. I knew that deep down, but didn't want to be reminded of it. I will praise God for them. When I run, I will praise God for how me raised me up and claim that for them. But I won't stop there. Anyone can do that. I will also be active in their lives. I will bring God to them, if they can't ask him to come themselves.

I never knew running would be a mission field. Repeat after me, in between gasps of air..."Rejoice in the (breathe) Lord always and (breathe)again I say rejoice(breathe).

Turn up the Speed

Wow. I thought I would die. So, yes that is a hyperbole. Not die...just be put on life support in the ICU.

A "Tempo Run" goes a little like this. You run a mile at your normal best pace. For me that would be a 10 minute mile (6mph). After that mile you run 3 miles at a much faster pace...almost too fast. For me that would be 8:52 mile (7mph). Then you finish your run with another mile at your normal pace.

The first mile went great, then I turned up the speed. I thought my heart would beat out of my chest. My breathing became quick. I watched the treadmill....1.26mls...1.38mls....1.61mls... Would this ever end? There is no way I can keep up this pace for 3 miles. My chest hurts. Is that normal? Am I having a heart attack? I can barely breathe. My side hurts. Maybe I should quit. No you must go on. The whole purpose of this tempo run is to train my body to withstand quicker paces at a longer distance. If I can keep this up, when I run the half marathon in 14 weeks, I will be faster and stronger. But right now, I think I am going to die on this treadmill. Wouldn't it be easier just to keep things the same? I know that I can run a race training the old way. Granted I wouldn't get faster but I would be able to breathe. I wouldn't get stronger but my heart would stay in my chest. I wouldn't get better.

I have learned that you can't do the same thing and expect to get better. I should want to improve. I do want to improve. I have also learned that you can't stay where you are and go with God. I should want to go with God. I do want to go with God. He wants me to be stretched. He wants me to learn more, do more, experience more. He wants me to run so hard that I almost lose my breathe. He wants me to step out further on that limb till my heart starts to beat out of my chest. He wants me to not give up, but to push it to the limit in every aspect of my life. Only then can I really glorify him because only then do I truly rely on him. Only then can I run my best race.

Right now I hate Tempo runs. They hurt. The end of April, I will be thankful for them. They make me stronger. They make me faster. They make me better. Go ahead God...turn up the speed.

Time to get Serious

Today begins my training for a couple of half-marathons at the end of April, beginning of May. Fifteen weeks to get in shape and prepare. Usually I train for a full marathon, but thought I would do a couple halves in the spring and try a full in the fall. This morning the weather was gross, light rain and chilly, so I decided to hop on the treadmill.

I turned on the TV and started watching the news while I tried to log 4 miles at 6mph. Then it happened. In the middle of..."Breaking news, overnight break-in", I felt compelled to get serious. Compelled to take this training to the next level. Stop just dabbling but really get to work. But not in running, in praying. I felt a call to pray.

I turned off the TV and began to get down to business.

I prayed for my wife, my children. I prayed for my pastoral staff. I prayed for my friends. I prayed for my work. I prayed for Haiti. I prayed for a group of Canadians. I prayed specific. Not just, "Dear God be with my children...blah, blah, blah." Specific. "God help Nate be a team player today. Bless Miriam's effort at school. Help Hannah today at musical practice to show others you. Help each of my kids realize that you are relevant. Relevant in academic team, relevant in dating, relevant". I prayed for our church. I continued to pray until my run was over.

How come I can set my mind to get up at 5am five days a week to run, but can't pry myself out of bed to talk to my creator and savior? I will push my body to the breaking point but wont open my eyes to read the word of God. I know that everyone has their moments when life makes it hard to talk to God...but I'm not everyone. I'm me. And it's time for me to pray with intent to see God move. It's time for me to read believing that my life depends on it.

It's time for me to train for real. It's time for me to get serious...and I'm going to do something about it.

Running in Haiti

Yes, I went to Haiti. I was hoping I could run there. I did get to run there, sort of.

Today was my first day running since returning from Haiti. I was out of the country with a team of 13 others from January 4 thru 12. This afternoon the people of that small island were all I could think of as I logged my three miles.

My new running gear that I got for Christmas would get their first real workout. New shoes, running tights, socks, and pants. As I started to appreciate the cushion feeling of my new Saucony's (shoes) the price tag for those babies flashed before my eyes. Yeah...running shoes are expensive. I started to tally up the cost of all the clothes I had on. $98+149+2+....... My entire wardrobe, new and used, is valued at over $400. That's not counting my iPhone. $400 is what the average Haitian makes in a year. The money that was spent on my running clothes would pay a man to work for 365 days.

Each of us paid about $900 to go on this trip. A chance to go and build houses for a group of people reeling from the earthquake and flooding would cost our group about $13,000. Does that make sense? That money would put 15 people to work for a year. This was a real struggle for me. The math did not add up.

Upon arriving in Haiti, we went through an orientation to prepare us for what was ahead. What I heard went something like this..."You thought you were coming to Haiti to build houses. If that were true, I would have asked you to send the money you spent on plane tickets and I could put a man to work for a year. You did not come to build houses. You came to bring hope." We were told that by two separate missionaries on two separate occasions. Bring hope. What does that look like?

It looks like "duck, duck, goose" when the children have no idea what you are saying. It looks like carrying five gallon buckets of water 1/3 of mile through cactus, over dry, rocky river bed. It looks like hauling concrete block on your head 1/4 of mile up hill. It looks like using a fan screen to sift rock out of the sand used in the mortar. It looks like paper airplanes, soccer balls, sharing tuna salad. It looks like drinking from the same water bottle. It looks like smiles, laughs, hugs, kisses. It looks like letting the girls braid your hair. It looks like showing the villagers that Jesus loves them and so do we.

Hope. We did not complete one house. We did help bring five houses closer to completion. What we really did was show the people in the village of Pasco that they have not been forgotten. We showed them that the white man does not think himself to good to help the Haitian. I hope we showed them Christ. Because in him their hope truly exists. In him our hope truly exists. Hope.

I only ran once in Haiti. I ran the path that we used to bring water. It wasn't long. It was treacherous. It was dangerous. It was what I had hoped to do. Hope.