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).