Today's Grace - No Joke!

It's been awhile since I've posted; not that God hasn't shown His grace to me any one of the days since March when I last had anything particularly worthwhile (or not) to say, but with work and school - ONLY 6 MONTHS 7 DAYS UNTIL GRADUATION (forgive me for yelling, but it is exciting, don't you think?) and family life, blah, blah, blah, blogging just hasn't been much on my mind.  But today I am constrained (there's a word for you) to tell the world - or at least my corner of the blogosphere - about the grace God has shown me, just today.


It was beautiful this morning.  The first snowfall of the season always excites me, and I was up and digging out my snow boots so I could trundle off to church.  Granted, the choir had to cancel it's anthem - too many folks snowed in - and Scot left for a magic show at 6:00 am, so I was trundling off by myself, but a day spent worshiping the God you adore with folks you love is a wonderful day at the least.


Did I mention it was the first snowfall of the season?  Good thing I learned to drive in eastern Washington state.  Good thing I have all wheel drive on my SUV.  Good thing I know to steer into a skid. Should I be thankful for antilock brakes?  Good thing that 5 MPH should be sufficient to keep me safe... As I was skidding around a corner at 5 MPH, trying to desperately avoid the last car that skidded around that same corner, I was awestruck as the world slowed down and my car literally floated as it reversed direction, plowed into the hillside on the other side of the road, and parked itself, teetering at an odd angle, balancing on the driver's side tires, leaving me just enough room to open the driver's door and shimmy out.  I turned around and looked at my car.  I wish I'd had a camera with me - what a sight!  It should have completely turned over.  I thought, as I was spinning out, that I was going to turn over.  Yet there it was, looking like I'd driven and parked it there on purpose.  It landed so gently that the airbags didn't even twitch.  


I called church (as our regular pianist was snowed in, I really needed to get there); Glen and Ed showed up shortly to assess the situation, tuck me between them in Glen's pick-up, and escort me to my place behind the piano.  My pastor was in shock and disbelief when she learned my car was pretty much on its side and I was there, in one piece.  I laughed it off, and was thrilled to tell everyone that the car was fine and drivable and I was unhurt.  My own shock wore off, however, during Communion, as she said the same words she blesses us with every week: "May the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen you, and keep you in His grace."  That's where my smile faded, I started to shake, and realized that, once again, God's grace was splattered all over my life.


"Keep you in His grace."  How does one define grace?  As I rely on all things Web-based, I turned to Wikipedia:  


The view that Christians have on grace is that it is undeserved mercy that God gave to us by sending his son to die on a cross to give us a way to be with him for the balance of eternity.  However, the Greek word used in the Bible is Charis, in which Strong's concordance gives this interesting definition, "The divine influence upon the heart, and its reflection in the life." The Greek word charis is related to two other Greek/English words, which are charisma (a special spiritual endowment or influence) and character (an engraving, stamp or mark indicating the genuineness of something). Therefore, grace is given by God in reference to developing characteristics in harmony with God's character. This implies that grace is given to those who develop such God like characteristics. An alternative perspective is that grace is given to enable such character changes to be realized... From a nontheist, naturalist, and rationalist perspective, the concept of divine grace appears to be the same...concept as luck.


God's grace, which I receive by faith, is what has secured my eternity, tucked as cozily into God as I was tucked between Glen and Ed this morning.  God's grace is also the act of transforming my character into one that reflects His own, one that can laugh and be joyful, even during the insanity of such a situation as this morning.  And God's grace is also that sheer, dumb luck that kept my car upright and my hair in place, got me to church on time to minister with the saints, and saw me driving home in that same car, with nary a scratch on it.  The Body and Blood of my Lord, Jesus Christ, does indeed strengthen me, and keeps me in His grace - perpetually and without any effort on my part.


So today's grace -the grace du jour - is just this:  May the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen you and keep you in His grace.  Amen!

5K Training: A New Understanding of Grace

Yesterday was a day of victory...of triumph...of gloating over everyone else in my life who can't even get out of bed at 5:00 am, much less pound out a mile.  (I know, I've only run a mile once, and already I'm copping an attitude about it.  But I think I've earned my attitude...and my very stiff legs.)  I was literally floating on air most of the day, so proud of myself.  Catching the reflection of collar bones in the mirror (part of my definition of personal beauty is having a nice neck/shoulder/upper chest; makes for nicer V-necks, you know) certainly contributed to my feelings of self-confidence and achievement, of finally winning something in the ongoing battle of the bulge.

Don't the Proverbs tell us that pride goes before a fall?  Yes, pride in my newfound discipline and exhilaration in exercise and healthy living took me down the flower-strewn path that led to my downfall: THE SCALE.

Why I had to go and weigh myself I'll never know.  20 years ago I was struggling, not so much to beat the bulge, but to beat a deadlier enemy: bulimia.  After years of work, I finally was able to divorce my toxic marriage to the bathroom scale (and toilet, for that matter), and find healthier, more accurate measurements of my fitness and overall health.  My clothes are getting too big, my pulse is low (64, not too much higher than a real athlete!), my blood pressure and blood sugar are normal, my cholesterol is just fine...but I had to step on the blasted scale.

It's a very nice scale, mind you.  It has the little knobs you scoot around - a regular doctor's scale.  Not like the cheap piece of junk I just got rid of (a local preschool sold it for $3.00 at their rummage sale).  Certainly, this scale would reflect all the hard work I've put into myself the last little while.  It had been 3 weeks since I last weighed...with the clothing that I'm suddenly swimming in, I thought, 7, 8 pounds, at least.  I was so excited, so anticipating glorious triumph...

...TWO POUNDS.  TWO MEASLY LITTLE FREAKING POUNDS.

Even with all my fitness and nutrition knowledge - muscle weighs more than fat, when you get fit, your body reshapes itself before it drops the fat, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah - something about seeing only a two pound change ruined my whole day.  Not only that, but I had a doctor's appointment this afternoon, and their ridiculous scale weighed me 3 pounds heavier than the other one!  I just couldn't win.  I have been beset and tormented with the fact that all my best efforts have not equalled what I thought they should: more numbers down on a steel and spring contraption.

Have you ever wondered why, as you walk with God, it seems that all your best efforts don't make a flying fig newton's bit of difference?  If I've learned one thing, it's that our best efforts aren't supposed to produce anything.  God's grace in our lives produce our best efforts.  The fact that I enjoy studying Scripture is a gift of grace, a product of God working in my life, not the other way around.  My love of worship is a sign that God is at work in my life; it's not my worship that woos Him to me.  My growing love of humanity - all humanity - is proof positive that, because of His grace, I am becoming transformed into the likeness of Christ.  Whether I'm conscious of it or not, the Holy Spirit is doing His work and I am being changed.

So, tomorrow is a new day.  A new day to remember that, even though the scale is a stubborn bit of man made technology, one that refuses to cooperate with my physical best efforts, I have proof positive that, regardless of numbers on said scale, I am being changed.  Heck, my new jeans (a size smaller than the last pair) are too big!  I have more energy than I've ever had before!  I can run a mile!  All these things show that the process of nature is indeed happening as it should.  And it's a new day to remember that, even if I lose my temper or resent my husband (because I just know he made that cake to torment and tempt me!) or forget to pray or study (who, me?  Yes, me...), God's grace is at work in me and yes, I am being changed.

5K Training: MY FIRST MILE!!!!

Today was an auspicious occasion. Today I did something that, not only did I spend 40 years thinking I'd never do, but something that I only decided to work toward last week.

I RAN ONE FULL MILE!!!

This is what I looked like when I got back home (scary, not pretty, but important to my self-esteem):

There it is: my own personal trophy of sweat, stink, and fogged up glasses.  It may as well be a gold cup!

The whole time I was out jogging this morning (all 18 minutes...I know, a long time for a mile, but come on!  It was a flippin' MILE!), I kept thinking, 1) can I make it? and 2) just a little bit further - I can see the halfway point...the finish!"  It reminded me, of course, how we experience the same thing in our walk with God.

Paul told the early Christians in Philippi: "I can do all things through [Christ] who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13).  This from a man who was brutally persecuted, stoned to death three times (yes, he came back - if God ain't finished with you, you're not going anywhere!), and, when he wrote this, he was in prison, actually chained to a Roman guard.  Even in those circumstances, he knew that God had promised to be with him until the end, and so it didn't matter whether he had plenty or nothing, whether he was warm or cold, or even whether he lived or died.  He just kept taking things moment by moment, step by step, secure in His union with the Father and his place in God's Kingdom.  Just like Abraham saw a "city whose architect and builder was God", so Paul saw the same city, and kept pounding toward it.

Don't stone me for blasphemy, but I really don't think God is too concerned over whether I run a mile or not. In the grand scheme of things, I don't know how that fits in or even if it's supposed to.  I highly doubt it.  What I do know is that we come across some pretty tough situations - name your own!  In those situations, we start  wondering if we're going to make it, or if we'll just collapse of sheer exhaustion before we get to the end of it. In those moments, let's remember that 1) Christ strengthens us in everything he calls us to do, and 2) the finish line is just around that corner...

I have two days of cross-training and then a rest day to enjoy.  After that, I continue my mile run for two days until I increase it again.  By that time, the mile will be old hat and I'll be ready for a new challenge!  Hmmm, I think there's something spiritual in that idea, too!



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5K Training - Cross Training

After two days of faithfully pounding the pavement toward the rapidly approaching 5K race I'll be running (and believe me, 2 days of running counts as faithful), my training calendar (compliments of Active.com) popped up this morning with "Cross Training." No listening to my whining thighs! Woo Hoo! Although still working out, I almost considered today a rest day.

As a newbie runner, I wanted to know why cross training is considered so important. I dashed over to everyone's favorite site to find out anything, About.com, and asked "Why should runners cross train?" Whamo! A very nice article, written by one Christine Luff (don't know her, but let's give credit where credit is due), listed several wonderful reasons why we should cross train:

> It helps balance muscle groups. (Ms. Luff particularly mentioned my favorites, the inner thighs; extra points for that!)
> It will help maintain or even improve cardiovascular fitness. (So, I'll be able to run longer, farther, faster....nanananananana, nanananananana, do I look like the Bionic Woman yet?)
> It reduces the likelihood of injury. (I'm a pain weenie - I like this.)
> It helps avoid exercise boredom. (Exercise is boring?)
> You might be able to continue exercising if you are injured in some way. (I saw this great tabletop pedaler thing at the drugstore the other day; if the thighs are out of commission, I guess I could tackle the upper arm flapping fat!)

So many reasons to cross train, so few days of the week!

So often, we Christians get stuck in a spiritual rut - church on Sunday, meet & greet, sing a hymn, a sermon, pass the offering plate, please. Even participating in Communion can become dry and habitual. Maybe we need to get into some spiritual cross training, mix things up a bit!

In the New Testament book of Acts, we read about the early Church's cross training program: "[The believers] would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need...they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home...praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved" (Acts 2:45-47). They didn't just just do their duty by three points and a prayer! Their spiritual practice seemed to have three separate components:

> Personally giving of their own belongings to meet the needs of others (how different from our modern practice of writing a check!)
> Frequently meeting in the Temple - a seriously public place - to worship together (maybe it would be like having church at the mall food court!)
> If they didn't meet in the Temple, they got together in each other's homes for some additional grub - physical and spiritual (the origin of the potluck, maybe?)

And what was the result of all this spiritual cross training? First of all, they had the "goodwill of all the people." Not just other church members, not just other Jews, but all the people: Jews, Romans, nationals, foreigners, Christians, non-Christians, stuck-on-themselves religious leaders...all the people! Second of all, "day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved." The Body of Christ was buffing up!

So, where are we in the Church today? Do we hear the tell-tale nanananananana, nanananananana that always precedes any bionic body? Are we strong enough to withstand what might injure us? Do we heal faster from injury? Or are we bored and tired with our God routine? Do we have favor with all the people, and are those being saved being added to our number? Hard questions...even harder answers.

Tomorrow, I hit the road again; I'm upping my half-mile to a full mile. Just like I feel before any change, I'm a little apprehensive and part of me thinks it will be too hard. But I know that once I get going, I'll fall into the rhythm of it, and the cross training I get will give me the strength to keep going.



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5K Training: Day the Second

As a preface to today's installment, I must say one thing. Some of you might already know this, and to others, it might be a novel concept. Regardless of the group in which you perceive yourself belonging, I will say this with equal strength and conviction to each person reading this. Okay, here goes:

There is absolutely NOTHING attractive about thigh fat.

Yes, today I want to discuss the mystery that is thigh fat. This ugly, wrinkly, cottage cheese & jello looking mass that jiggles on the inside of each of my thighs has my panties in a literal knot. That knot tightens every time they rub together (one of my goals is to eliminate that particular phenomenon, just so you know). Forgive me if I'm being too graphic or engaging in the social faux pax of TMI, but after completing my second day of 5K training, throughout which my thighs did nothing but whine, kvetch, and demand that I turn around and take them home, I spent the entire day wondering how it is that, for 40 years, I have allowed these insults to the human figure dominate my life.

Because of my thighs, I have avoided the comfort and freedom of shorts.

Because of my thighs, you won't catch me - dead or alive - wearing a bathing suit in public (making participation in water fitness more of a challenge than it should be).

Because of my thighs, I've had to wear clothing large enough to fit them...wait, that's my hips - but I know they're in cahoots together.

Because of my thighs, I've gone through a literal fortune's worth of pantyhose, as they can only stand up to one day of the highly frictioned, rash inducing thigh rub.

Because of my thighs (and this might be the biggest point of dismay of all), I never knew I had muscles down there!

Before you think I'm a total idiot (which some of you might, anyway - not my problem), let me follow that with this: even though I've had bouts of fitness now and again throughout my four decades, I've never found the workout that would reach through my jiggly thigh fat to the muscles that are so obviously down there. But this morning, as I pounded down our road, desperately watching my turn-around point get closer, I felt them. My thigh muscles. The ones that have been bound and gagged by the fat that covers them for most of my life. I felt them; no, I heard them. They were crying like lost children: "Here we are! Here we are! Don't leave us here to die..."

Okay, a little macabre. The point is, I discovered that there is life - and muscle - after the fat. (Yes, pun intended.) And in discovering that, I found a new way to motivate me to stay faithful to the course laid before me, even in the light of my evil husband who has just decided to make homemade cake! (Traitor.) I don't want to just hear my thigh muscles calling out to me, I want to welcome them in person, and lay my eyes on their sleek contours and bold sinews. (That was wierd.)

Visions of beautiful thighs (and the bathing suit I'll get to wear!), I think, will be an important aspect of my journey to the 5K and, over the longer run, bettering my health and fitness. On those days when my husband and his dastardly cake are tempting me and causing me to drool in a most unladylike fashion, on those mornings when it's cold and dark and the last thing I want is to get up before the rooster down the hill (I beat him up this morning, yes, I did), when, once again, a co-worker brings a unit meeting snack spread that the local buffet restaurant would charge $10.95 for, the future beauty and wonder of my thighs will keep me strong.

In the New Testament book of Hebrews, the author reflects on the faith of various Jewish "heroes"; in some Bibles, Hebrews 11, where this is recorded, is titled "The Roll Call of Faith." Of one of these heroes, Abraham, the author says, "By faith Abraham obeyed." Abraham believed and obeyed God when it looked like such belief and obedience would bring him anything but reward: God asked him to leave his home and set out for an unknown future; God promised him a son long after his wife was able to produce children; after that son was born and somewhat grown, God asked him to sacrifice him; who in their right mind would go with this? Yet Abraham did.

On this side of history, we see the multiple happy endings associated with each of Abraham's trials of faith. But from his vantage point, he saw nothing. Every time he obeyed, every time he stuck to the course laid before him, he didn't know what would happen. He didn't know he'd make it to the Promised Land, he didn't know that he would indeed have a son by his elderly wife, he didn't know that sacrificing that son would lead to God providing a substitute. All he knew was that God has laid a course before him, and he doggedly put one step in front of another.

What Abraham did have, however, was a vision: "For he looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God (Hebrews 11:10)." What kept Abraham faithful to his calling, his own race, was the unshakeable knowledge that God had something greater - greater than anything he (or we) could see, touch, taste, smell, or otherwise physically experience. Abraham knew that, no matter how difficult, disappointing, unstable, dangerous, or just plain nasty life was, true reality was in the spiritual Kingdom of God, and that place (however God defines it) was unshakeable and more solid than Yosemite's El Capitan. No matter what happened to him here, he knew his true future awaited him there, as it does all those who truly seek after God's heart.

My short term motivation might be gorgeous, rock hard thighs that can't even spell jiggle. But my long term motivation, that will keep me faithful in trial & temptation, as well as comfort and victory, is knowing that I, too, am racing toward that city, that kingdom, "whose architect and builder is God."

5K Training: Day One

I've been meaning to write this all day; now, with only 16 minutes until bedtime, I'm going to frantically dash off something brilliant about my first day of training.

Think-think, think-think, think-think...

Right. Nothing. Brilliance must belong to someone else tonight.

I can, however, tell you that I did it! For the first time in my life - a whopping 40 years - I ran half of a mile! Not bad for someone who's never even run a full block before, if I do say so myself. And it wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it might be (although my lower calves and hips were quite put out with the process, and begged me the whole time to take them back home).

I don't know about any of you, but I wasn't able to enjoy much of the winter Olympics this year. I'm in bed by 9:00 most nights, so I was snoring by the time they started. I felt quite miffed; I really enjoy the winter games. I did get to see the torch being lit on Mt. Olympus, however, and thinking about that, I have to think about the original Olympic games. Back then, athletes didn't compete against each other, only against themselves. Completing the event well led to the laurel wreath; by wearing that wreath around your head, you told the world, "I finished the race." That's what I'm anticipating at my upcoming 5K race: I don't care if I finish last, somewhere in the middle, or first (highly unlikely!). All I care about is starting and finishing well. By being faithful to my training schedule, and keeping my eyes on the now imagined, but soon to be real, finish line, I will be prepared to compete. Let me tell you, my hubby will be there, taking all sorts of lovely pictures of me, sweating - and stinking - profusely.

In the book of Revelation, the Apostle John writes this to the church at Smyrna: "Do not fear what you are about to suffer...be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life" (Revelation 2:9,10). The phrase "crown of life" alluded to the Olympic laurel wreath. God's promise was that consistent faithfulness would end in eternal victory. As one who has been born again into the Kingdom of God, I am encouraged that I am not competing against anyone in my spiritual "race." I run against myself, and my reward for completing the race - my course on this earth, set out by my Father Himself - I will be crowned with victory, and will be able to shout, "I finished the race!"

So, here's to my faithfulness in training, and my faithfulness in living!

Trying Something New

A week or so ago, I read a blog about setting goals. Now, I'm naturally a goal-oriented person and I work in a goal-directed job. Spinning my wheels, just hoping to get somewhere, has never really done it for me - no offense to all you Type Bs out there! I've been to multiple trainings on goal setting, from establishing S.M.A.R.T. goals (specific, measurable, attainable, realistic and timely), to defining personal vision, mission, and daily objectives, to breaking down 20-, 10-, and 5-year goals into daily steps to reach those! I've used every time organizer and project planner on the market, and, in my humble opinion, I'm pretty darn organized. I find my target, and I hit it.

In this particular SparkPeople blog, however, something jumped out at me. It said something like this: "Make your goal more specific than 'Work out 5 times a week.'"

Well, that's usually been my fitness goal: Work out 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 times a week. So I got to thinking: What kind of goal is this, really? How is this goal going to motivate me to get up and actually work out on Day 7 of the 42nd week when I'm just too exhausted to care? "Well, I've got 293 workouts under my belt; skipping just one won't hurt..." That reasoning is why I'm having to get BACK in shape to begin with! So, I decided to set a new goal, one completely out of the blue. In that same blog, a link to Active.com was provided. I checked it out, and found just what I needed: a 5K race.

I've never considered myself a runner. Heck, I grew up with exercise induced asthma! Laps around the baseball field in junior high made me cry, and in high school I managed to waive P.E. altogether, in favor of marching band! My fitness routine has always been immensely private: no one needs to see those thighs! But at 40 years old, I'm ready to shake things up. I've got at least 40-50 more years on this planet (I'm actually pushing for 80 more, shooting for a grand total of 120), and why hide behind a self-esteem damaged by wobbly thighs? In addition, I'm able to link my passion for social work with a race that supports a nearby community's faith-based social service network.

My training regimen starts the day after tomorrow. For the next 8 weeks, I'll be taking my living room fitness and pounding it out on the road, and on May 1, I'll be in my very first race. (I can't believe I'm actually PAYING to run!) Sure, it's only 5 kilometers - what is that, about 3-1/2 miles? But after 5K comes a 10K, and who knows? Maybe one day I'll cross the finish line of the L.A. Marathon!

I plan to write a little bit about my training experience everyday, and post pictures along with it, so you can share my journey with me. I hope you'll follow along and be my virtual cheerleaders, because I'll need all the encouragement I can get! And if you're inclined to pray, please support me with that, as well, because I'll need all the grace I can get to be up, pounding the rural pavement at 5:00 every morning! Physical training may not be as valuable as spiritual training, but the added energy from being physically fit certainly helps with the spiritual training!

Here's to upping my Spark!