In my last post to my blog I wrote about some of my favorite things that bring me joy and part of that list would also include what I believe to be important to me especially in this season of life as I approach turning 60 later this year.

Several years ago my husband and I took advantage of attending a financial seminar offered at our church which taught us how to 1) recognize our current financial mess 2) understand that we were not alone in our mess 3) how to take the necessary steps to get out of our mess. While we may not have always followed each step to full ccompletion I am happy to say that we no longer have credit card debt; all that remains is the mortage on our home.  In the time that we took the course we were able to save for college tuition payments, a new roof for the house, airline tickets for a trip to California as well as purchases that previously would have gone on one of our several charge cards

Part of the teaching we sat under caused me to realize what is truly the difference between a ‘necessity’ and a ‘want’. I was forced to come to grips that deep down I have struggled with ‘materialism’ since childhood, a trait that can be nasty if not gotten under control.

It’s taken awhile to get my struggle with materialism to a healthy level but it’s been a journey that I would not have missed. It’s been a path that taught me new attitudes and gaining an excitement pursuing new and different ways to be frugal, repurposing items, ridding my home of clutter, saving for major purchases, buying on sale or used….my list could go on further. Yet, as I ponder even this short description I am reminded of my greatest lesson–what is truly important to me? This is a partial list to answer that question:

 1.  A healthy relationship with God….brought on by spending time reading my Bible

 2. A healthy and thriving marriage….time and effort on my part

 3. Healthy and loving relationships with my two young adult children

 4. A warm, inviting home where my family and friends are welcome

 5. Good healthy for my family and myself

 6. The ability for my arms and legs to move, my hands to work well, eyes to see and ears to hear

 7. Good food in the refrigerator, freezer and pantry. Full cupboards

 8. Running water (hot and cold) Lights, air in the summer and heat in the winter

 9. Wonderful childhood and adult memories created from two loving parents

10. The ability to laugh and cry (sometimes in the same day) and the privilege of being quiet

So, m sense of what’s ‘important’ in life has indeed changed. I will be the first to admit that I  

still struggle at times with a ‘need’ versus a a ‘want’ but as I continue to focus on how temporal my life is this side of Heaven I feel like I’m winning the battle in the war for my priorities, my time, my finances, etc.

One of my favorite Bible verses is  “seek first the Kingdom of God and all else will be added to you”….it’s a principle that I apply every time I drift in to a case of the ‘gimmes’ and a wonderful reminder that I don’t need another ‘thing’ to dust….more clothes to stuff into an already ample wardrobe…..books to collect dust on shelves…..I think you can see my word picture I am painting. 

This past weekend I participated in Lansing’s Color Run event. Even in my admitted shortcomings of preparation for the race, I was ready but not ready if you know what I mean? I did not know what to expect from my own performance. I certainly did not know what to anticipate being among 15,000 runners and walkers which included small children and babies in strollers. When my daughter Sarah and I arrived and made our connection with our team my questions were being rattled off a mile a minute until Sarah intervened for me and quietly said “mom just needs to know the plan”.

I am a person who needs to know ‘the plan’. I don’t like surprises. I don’t enjoy being derailed. I’m most comfortable with an agenda and time frame. So, my poor team members were hit with my questions such as…”will there be water along the route?” “will there be port-a-potties?” “do we have to run the entire race?”……It was so nice that my team members, who by the way were all old enough to be my children, politely tolerated my nervous misgivings and reassured me that I would be fine. With great respect they allowed me to offer an audible prayer for our team before we left the parking lot to find the starting line.

This was my first 5k. I really didn’t know how I would feel. We walked along the short route from our car to the start of the race and I must admit that each step closer to the starting line brought  more realization there was no turning back, no option to back out. As we got closer to the banner over the starting line, the closer the crowd of runners and walkers pressed in on me. I went from a newbie to official runner in a matter of minutes. I loved the energy generated from the crowd and from the young man with the microphone counting down our launch. The music was definitely for a younger crowd yet as I continued to glance around age was not  limiting many of my fellow wave members. 

With the final count to “Go!” we did. For the first time I knew how it felt and what it looked like to not be a lone runner on my country back roads, but suddenly thrust into being a group runner on the beautiful city streets of Downtown Lansing. The sun was the same–hot and bright–but the noises and cheering of the crowds replaced the sounds of cars and trucks rushing past me on my training days. Sarah and I stuck together walking in silence most of the time or giggling together as we made our way under and through the color stations, laughing at the amount of chalk up our noses, in our ears, or decorating our shirts and shoes.

I did not run the entire route and at first that disappointed me. I had really wanted to see if I could run 3 miles. Not being able to do so was a combination of the numerous individuals who chose to walk and spread out across the streets instead of staying to one side which made me lose sight of the running lane. In addition, I didn’t want to lose my team members who also weren’t running the entire route. As we continued to walk and engaged with those around us and arrived at each color station my sense of wanting to run was replaced by sheer enjoyment of doing something totally different for a Saturday morning.

I loved being a part of a zany crowd. I absolutely adored seeing families having a fun time together building relationships, creating memories and promoting good health. I laughed at seeing grown men wearing tu-tus and college age girls sporting colorful socks along with other crazy colorful running attire. I marveled that 15,000 runners and walkers, not counting event volunteers and workers, could enjoy a day where tempers didn’t seem to be flaring and cooperation was the mainstay of the morning. Part of me wanted to join several other young people who took time to purchase an iced coffee at the Bigby coffee shop and rejoin the rest of us making our way along the route.

So, if you were to ask me–was I satisfied with my experience my resounding response would be “YES”. I was able to overcome my nervousness by “not knowing the entire plan”, lay aside my personal expectations and fulfill a small dream–being a part of something bigger than jogging or walking in my own “little world”. I may have lost a little bit of hopeful running but I also gained valuable time with my daughter in the midst of our busy schedules.  I left the 5k gaining a new perspective about my abilities and observing first hand the goodness of people under the guise of coming together for the same purpose–having good, clean fun. Only the ‘clean’ part would be up for debate. None of us left very ‘clean’ but we WERE very ‘colorful’. And I’m pretty sure that many of us, myself included, are asking “When do I sign up for the next Color Run?” And I’m pretty sure ALL of us are still finding residue of color in our noses, ears, and the crevices of our shoes–evidence of a fun run.

Oh my goodness. What was I thinking? That’s the question I kept asking myself during the last leg of my bicycle ride late this morning. Never mind that it’s 85 degrees outside with 65% humidity. So, WHAT was I thinking? I was thinking that this weekend I am committed to a 5k event and that in the last 1 1/2 weeks I have done squat with my intended training regime. Looking back on those 10 days that will be forever lost to me, I can rationalize all I want but one thing remains, the event is coming and prepared or not, I am participating. Thus, I pushed logic to the side, donned my helmet, strapped my water bottle around my waist and off I went headed north on my country road, a gentle breeze guiding me alongside the road.

My goal this hot, sunny morning ride was to cover more than 5 miles in order to surpass my last recorded ride from last month. In order to accomplish this I visually knew how far I’d have to pedal to satisfy my overall workout. The first mile wasn’t too bad. In fact, I felt a bit giddy as I chuckled to myself thinking ‘this isn’t too bad’. Ha! There’s even a verse in the Old Testament that popped into my head to taunt my ego: ….pride goeth before the fall….By the end of the first mile I was fervently looking and anxiously anticipating finding a shade tree so that I could stop and enjoy some cold water from my water bottle. Doing so gave me something new to ponder. What’s worse? Tiring from the heat and thirst or swatting mosquitoes while being bathed in the cool shade of a towering tree? I began to imagine worse scenarios of survival so that I could tolerate and justify my temporary discomfort.

I was able to make it to a new destination before turning back for the journey home. Using the gears on my bike, I made adjustments to help with my return home. Whenever possible I chose to coast and save my energy. As I worked my way along I discovered that our road doesn’t have as many shade trees as I wanted or hoped, yet found while riding in a stretch of road where the trees on both sides form a canopy was pure heaven to a warm and thirsty soul. The benefits of the shade and smoother gravel surface allowed me to regain some energy and feel more optimistic about making it home.

During one of my water breaks I let my mind wander imagining if I just plain gave up the effort to complete my ride. I allowed myself to ask ‘who would I call to come get me?’ Logic told me it’d have to be someone with a truck or large car to carry my bike. I admit that for a moment (or two) I was entertaining defeat. I even wondered if I’d be better off walking home and guide the bike next to me. I thought about friends who have biked across our state and endured worse conditions and fatigue compared to this short route.

Thankfully, I chose (during my last rest stop) to put mind over matter and push through my thoughts of discouragement, the muscle burn from pedaling a few inclines, and the sun beating down on my face. I began to ‘coach’ myself. With each turn of the bike’s pedals I exhorted myself with “you can do this”, “you’re almost home”, “just a short way to go”. Climbing the last slight incline in the road was almost more than I could take as the speed of my bike slowed to a crawl, but I was determined. For a fleeting moment I remembered and laughed to myself about the time in 8th grade when I gave an oral report having never finished the book and making up the end as I spoke. Unfortunately, my teacher saw through my deceit and laziness and told me to ‘go home, finish the book, and you can give your report tomorrow’. I didn’t want my bike ride to finish this way, being lazy or giving up because the task was more difficult than I originally imagined as I tied my shoe laces in preparation for a morning of exercise.

My self-coaching worked. I inched back home on my beloved road. I coaxed myself along reminding my tired, hot body that today’s effort was not a race, but an exercise of endurance and perseverance. I visualized myself finishing the route, collapsing on the couch as the comfort of our air conditioned home washed over my sweaty arms and legs. 

My heart rate is back to normal. I’ve enjoyed a healthy lunch and the hour of discomfort from a hot, humid bike ride is behind me as I continue to wind through the day. Feelings of defeat have been replaced with a sense of accomplishment sprinkled with a new layer of wisdom–give serious consideration to using the earlier, cooler hours of the morning to pursue my goals. Would doing so matter?  Sensibility tells me as such–at least I could entertain the possibility of  not having to ask myself the haunting question–“What was I thinking!?”

A quick glance at the calendar reveals that this is the week we Americans celebrate Independence Day causing us to hopefully pause and remember those who fought long ago in the battles of war to gain freedom as a nation from the bonds of Great Britain. One of the resources I checked stated that representatives from the 13 colonies then fighting in the revolutionary struggle weighed a resolution that would declare independence. On July 2, 1776 the Continental Congress voted in favor of independence and two days later its delegates adopted the Declaration of Independence, a historic document drafted by Thomas Jefferson. The “rest of the story” is typical festivities ranging from fireworks, parades and concerts to more casual gatherings with family and friends. Having said this one would think that I’m “up” on my American history. And while that would be a wonderful compliment to hear, truth is I had to do a web search to make certain I didn’t misrepresent anything about this beloved American holiday. And, furthermore, I have to wonder….is July 4th and all the blood, sweat, and tears leading up to that historic moment in time captured in the hearts and minds of an average adult, teen or child? I believe I’m pretty safe to say the answer would be a resounding “no” and admit I can count myself in that group as well, although I like to think I do, for the most part, greatly respect and exhibit an inward gratitude for those sacrifices of so long ago.

Defining “Freedom” is one of those undertakings that could fill pages with thoughts and opinions. It’s a word that is used very frequently in the midst of tragedy or triumph whether an event has taken place within a people group or the life of an individual. Ask a World War II veteran his or her definition of freedom and then  compare the answer to that of a young person who is becoming part of a generation where the memories of fought wars is but reading material in World History or American History textbooks. I’m not sure that many of us would agree on a unified definition of freedom, however, I hope that we could all agree that with freedom comes a price, a price tag bearing blood, sweat, injury, and death–the ultimate sacrifice.

I’ve been blessed to soon be celebrating another milestone birthday. I am amazed at the changes that I have seen take place in our great nation from the time I graduated high school, joined the work force, married and had children, and now enjoying more time in my home again. With my current age, comes the reality that I have had the pleasure of participating in many 4th of July celebrations to celebrate our “freedom” but for me there is a greater freedom that I possess, a state of mind of heart that also came at a great price. A kind of freedom that also benefits “all” who acknowledge the sacrificial power behind the gift–freedom in Christ as described in Galations 5:1. Once I surrendered my life to Christ my yoke of slavery to sin was broken, freedom was granted and a life of abandonment was launched! Wearing a new garment of righteousness through Christ doesn’t mean I am perfect or won’t continue to stumble. What it means is that I am no longer weighed down by past burdens. Furthermore, I now have a license to “be who I am in Christ” while recognizing my license doesn’t include making wrong choices on purpose or in other words–making a mockery of the Cross of Calvary.

I fear there is so much more I could say about freedom as it pertains to our brave men and women who have fought in wars or in my attempt to describe the pain and anguish of one man’s death on a bloody cross 2,000 years ago. This latter death was not that of a mere man, but the Son of God, who came in the flesh in order that His physical death would purchase back  the fallen nature of man. This purchase is described as a gift of eternal life–Freedom!–from the bonds of slavery to sin and the darkness of life apart from God.

Unfortunately, both discussions of freedom–whether it relates to America or the subject of Christ’s sacrifice for mankind–cause disagreements or make some individuals downright uncomfortable or hostile, all of which cause me to grieve. When we miss the truth of our nation’s rich history complete with imperfect leaders or the depth of love by a Heavenly God Who gave His Only Son as atonement for our lives, I have to wonder where we are failing as citizens who make up families to embrace the richness of both “freedom” worlds. Parades will take place across America this Thursday. Firework displays will fill the darkened skies. Countless hamburgers and hot dogs will be enjoyed from a backyard BBQ or a sidewalk vendor. Flags will be waived in the air and the word “freedom” will pour from the lips of many celebrants throughout the day. In all of that I hope that the majesty behind that precious word is revealed to more and more of us. 

2,000 years ago a parade of sorts took place. This parade was different. This parade featured one person–a man riding a donkey. There were no flags being waived. Instead, he was heralded with palm branches. No fireworks were displayed. Rather, shouts of praise filled the air in anticipation of change. Within a few hours change did come and a once triumphant sounding crowd turned angry and vicious….. and ushered in “freedom”….through the death and resurrection of Christ “Who always leads us in victory”…..and thus birthed salvation.

As you celebrate this 4th of July I pray you, like me, will pause and dig a bit deeper into our American history. And when Sunday rolls around why not consider investigating the spiritual side of “freedom”. The price has been paid for both observances–all that’s needed is a willing heart to accept the gift both have to offer. When you discover and experience true “freedom” do something crazy. Waive a flag or shout a praise offering to the One Who is the source of both  “freedom” worlds.