Resting in Grace

As you all know, I've been running lately. It feels great to have the energy and be in shape to do something I have always loved, but long neglected! I feel the need to explain why I mention it so much in my posts, before I talk about an insight from the trail today. See, when I'm running, there are no kids, and I have time to think. Need I say more? So many thoughts roll around in my head as I keep putting one foot in front of the other - and I often want to share them with you. Hope you don't get tired of the running analogies. :)

So today I was back at Bush Park - a large park in the center of Salem. A century ago someone was forward thinking and saved some farmland for parkland and it's an oasis in the midst of industrial, commercial and residential downtown. The outer lap around the park is 1.5 miles on a nice soft bark trail. The whole park sits on a gentle incline, so that the Southwest corner is the highest point, and the Northeast corner is the lowest point. Depending on which way you run the lap, you have a different experience with hills. Running clockwise, you have several small inclines, and then a really steep bit to get to the top. Running counterclockwise, you have a looooong stretch that's all incline - just gradually up for a long time. Today I was running counterclockwise.

I'm finding that if I pay too much attention to being on the hill, it makes it harder to run. If my mind is thinking, "I'm on the hill and this is hard work and see how hard I'm huffing and puffing," then the run gets significantly more difficult than if I'm listening to a song, watching the squirrels and not paying attention to the terrain. Just one foot in front of the other. No serious introspection, just keep going. So I've been trying to adjust my mental focus when I run. Rather than thinking through every dip and rise of the trail, I'm thinking or praying or looking at the beautiful trees and sky. It helps me keep going in strength.

However, there are moments when I notice how my body is feeling. I'm breathing hard and my legs ache and my arms are pinned to my sides and I think, "Man, I'm still out of shape, I can't even run a mile and a half without getting worn out." And then I notice where I am. I'm two thirds of the way up the loooong incline, and it's totally normal to be feeling the pain at that moment.

So, what does this have to do with resting in grace? Well, the way I see it, it's restful to do life from a place of more freedom. Not worried about every little thing, doing each day for each day's sake, and not being so introspective or investigating every jot and tittle. Just do it. As they say at Nike. And yet it is grace to notice what hill we're on. When we start to feel bad about ourselves, the jobs we're not getting accomplished, the list that never seems to get shorter, or the fuse that gets shorter every day, it's important to look around and notice our season of life. Are we out in the open, hot sun blaring, wind blowing on our face, 2/3rds of the way up the loooong slope, or are we on the downhill side, in the pretty woods by the stream, catching our breath? It's normal to be out of breath on the big hill, and it's necessary to spend time on the downhill side, catching our breath.

And the same is true in life. It's normal to get run down during the seasons of life that demand much of us, and it's necessary to have some time doing things that allow us to catch our breath. It's resting in the midst of the ups and downs of life, giving ourselves grace for the wear and tear we feel from the daily grind.

May you have freedom to run the race of life without over-analyzing, eyes to see the situation you are in clearly and realistically, and grace to accept your responses as honest and authentic living. You're o.k. The downhill side is coming.