There, I said it. I typed it –I admit that I am a “people pleaser”. Even though this soon-to-be 60 year old woman likes to believe she’s made huge strides in this area of her character, there is a remnant of worry which I like to call “What if everyone doesn’t like me or what I say or do?” So, what if?…..

Before I elaborate on that question I will tell you that I HAVE made a vast improvement in the realm of wanting or believing that I had to have approval from everyone whether it was in various work settings, church, community service, relationships, and at home. I’ve been part of Bible studies, prayer groups, women’s retreats and major conferences so hearing and absorbing “knowledge” has not been lacking–what was and continues to be a shortcoming for me is “application”. There’s a verse in the Book of James that says “do not merely hear the Word, but be doers of the Word” (my paraphrase).

I’m not sure when and where people pleasing became a garment that I was so willing to take out of my personality closet and wear with gusto. An examination of my childhood reveals memories of wanting my parents to be pleased with me for reasons other than I was their third child and fulfilled their dreams of having a daughter. Was that enough for them? Was it enough for me? I wasn’t really good at any particular ‘thing’ as a child. I was accustomed to hearing that I was ‘cute’ but not ‘pretty’ (unless it was dad doing the talking) I was smaller than most of the kids in my classes even through high school. I donned much needed glasses by 5th grade thus gaining a new garment–“four eyes”. I had and still do bear a tooth that didn’t quite fit into the top front row of my teeth–thus another term “buck tooth” echoes in my mind. How does admitting this small fraction of childhood fit with being a “people pleaser”? I developed using humor as a shield. If I could make other people laugh my sense of safety and feeling accepted scored points on the board of “I’m Okay, They Like Me” game.

Another aspect of being a people pleaser is developing the inability to say “No”. Oh, the anguish of feeling pressured to make sure I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings by not obliging to a request even when doing so meant I was stretching my valuable time. Partnered with this “can’t say no” is taking on an attitude of “If I don’t do it, who will?” I fell into that trap when my kids were in high school. At one point it took a trusted friend to sit down with me and discuss/reveal to me that I had 7 plates spinning in the air (remember those kind of jugglers featured on a variety show?) Picture those plates nestled on top of their flexible poles, begin the spinning one by one until all are rotating in unison and you have a pretty good idea of how my chaotic schedule was from week to week for several years. That meeting taught me the most valuable lesson I had in life at that point in the time–the ability to say “no”….permission to say “no”.

Fast forward from the meeting with my friend to the present. I’ve already admitted my struggle and have shared my sense of victory in fear of living as a “people pleaser”. Lest I think I have failed, I have not. On the contrary, during my years of struggle I found a well known and popular verse in the Bible that says “seek first the Kingdom of God and all else will be added to you” (again, my paraphrase) That verse, joined with other teachings from the Word over the years have given me the freedom and the release I needed. I exchanged being a “people pleaser” for becoming a “God pleaser”. I already have His unconditional love because that’s His character. I have His acceptance as a daughter because I chose to put my trust in His Son, Jesus Christ. So, if I do NOTHING else in life, I’m OKAY. But, I don’t want to live a “nothing” life. No, I am choosing to live a “somethings” life….somethings matter,,,,,,,somethings don’t!

“Seek to please Me above else….” this was the opening sentence in today’s devotional. Thank you, Lord, I needed that reminder and affirmation that I’m not created to make everyone around me happy. I’m not here to make sure things around me happen. I’m not here to live under falsehood and lies.

My closet has been cleaned. The “people pleasing” garment has been removed and destroyed. The clothing given to me that bore hurtful nicknames has been long gone as well. Another exchange took place. My closet is now full of “righteousness” clothing. I’ve got quite the wardrobe and it was totally free. Well, free for me but paid for by an incredibly enormous price by my Abba Daddy. His Son, Jesus Christ, gave His life sacrificially in order that I might share in His sufferings but above all, walk in His Victory.

So, what if someone doesn’t like me? I’m okay with that. What if someone is offended by something I may say? I’m okay with that. What if I say “no” to a friend and they are caught off guard? I’m okay with that. What if that old “people pleasing” spirit keeps trying to become reacquainted with me? I’m not okay with that. What if?…..still working on eliminating that question from time to time and rejoicing that the scoreboard that reflects my progress is looking better and better in my favor.

Age: the length of time during which a being or thing has existed.

“Well, I’m at that age…..” How many times has that phrase been part of a conversation you’ve had recently or ever for that matter? What exactly is age. In order to help establish it in my own mind as I sit down to write today I first went to Google search and typed in ‘definition of age’ and the above short phrase was the majority answer. What I did not do is choose to explore Google Images with the word “age” to see what photos are associated with it; I think that would be an interesting search. I’ll save that for another day.

Even though we are still in the month of September I’m looking ahead to November when I exchange one decade of birthday celebrations for another–I will turn 60. When I do so another popular phrase will echo in my mind and I’m certain from at least one friend…”where has the time gone?” Indeed, where has the time gone and yet of more significance to me is “what am I doing WITH my time and WHAT have I accomplished in my 60 years? Completing a descriptive answer to those questions would require more space than I allow myself but I would like to give a list of my ‘accomplishments’ thus far:

1. Became a delight to my parents who after two sons received a daughter on Nov. 5, 1953. Dad had served in WWII and the Korean Conflict so I am most certain my mother was grateful to have her husband return home.
2. Graduated high school in 1971 and business school in 1972 and secured a full time position with a local bank (which is now Chase Bank)
3. Married in 1974….divorced in 1979…..remarried in 1980 and soon to celebrate 33 years with Jim.
4. Birthed our daughter Sarah at age 29, welcomed Daniel at age 34
5. Moved to Fowlerville in 1989, leaving our families in Saginaw where we both were born and thought would remain
6. Served two terms on Board of Education for Fowlerville Schools
7. Said goodbye to my mother-in-law in 1995, my own mother in 1999 and my father in 2012
8. Worked 10 years for our community newspaper
9. Served in various roles at our local church and currently enjoy the privilege of teaching women from the Word of God
10. Have received training/teaching through Victorious Ministry Through Christ, a healing ministry
11. Have enjoyed three visits in the last 6 years to California where I have lifelong friends
12. Have a restored friendship with a “bestie” whom we have spent summers along the shore of Lake Huron and her home in Illinois
13. Rid ourselves of consumer debt except for the mortgage on our home
14. Experienced 3 laps in a Nascar vehicle on the track in Brooklyn, Michigan
15. Attempted a snowboard at the age of 40+……
16. Ran my first 5k (I did walk a lot of it) on July 13, 2013
17. Ran my 2nd 5k (I walked about 1/4 of it) on Sept. 7, 2013
18. Became a Mentor Mom in the MOPs ministry in 2012
19. Sang my first solo at age 19
20. Read my Aunt Esther’s book in 2012–she published this book at age 88

Number 20 is the heart of my heart today as I ponder “what is age”. My Aunt Esther is a retired school teacher. She is also a widow and she thrives on staying alert and purposeful. The fact she wrote her book is cause enough for a loud cheer, yet what encourages me is her approach to life. She is one of my dad’s sisters and although she will make an occasional joke about ‘being a little bit old, or a little bit hard of hearing’ her main focus is on the ‘now’. Will I write a book? I don’t know, but I am writing a weekly blog. I’ve written human interest articles in past years for our newspaper. I don’t know where my love for writing will take me. I’m focusing on my own ‘now’.

I’ve decided that my ‘now’ looks like a woman who is very happy to be back home full time after working for the last 10 years. I’m really enjoying the quality time I have to be outside exercising or showing up at my trainer’s gym for my twice a week workout. I’ve had time this summer to be a bum and I’ve had ample time to read one of the many books that have been waiting for their pages to be devoured. My decision to return home has also opened up my calendar to be available to spend precious time with our adult children, deposits into my emotional tank that may have been lost if not for the choice I made in May 2013.

To those that would say to me “you’re old” my response is “No, no I’m not old. Age is a number.” Furthermore, it’s also not a ‘dirty’ word (my opinion) and honestly I believe has become so because of ‘fear. If you ask me what adjectives I would connect to age this would be my brief list: wisdom…..knowledge…..experience……change…..anticipation…….maturity.

If it weren’t for my older aunts I would have no one to call on when I need Biblical Wisdom. If it weren’t for Knowledge I would not have had my mother-in-law to help further my sewing skills. If it weren’t for Experience I wouldn’t have had a good friend Janet to encourage me about living in hard financial times. If it weren’t for Change I wouldn’t have Grandpa Jewell’s testimony of accepting Christ when he was 55. If it weren’t Anticipation I wouldn’t have our family history of mother’s parents coming to America in 1910 and 1913.

Finally, if it weren’t for Maturity I’d probably say a lot more stupid things than I already do at times, out loud or on Facebook. I turn 60 this year. Don’t send me a black card. Don’t give me silly gifts of over-the-counter meds associated with growing older. Instead, give yourself the gift of ‘life’ and ‘living young’. Give yourself time to discover and focus on your own ‘now’ and if you need some laughter, or some wisdom, or some encouragement come see me. Call first in case I’m out and about ‘living in the now’.

Labor Day 2013 has come and gone and with it the start of another school year is the current “buzz topic” around our communities. It’s been awhile since I’ve had the privilege of chiming in with other moms either lamenting or cheering the fact that my own kids would return to school, leaving me to either cherish or grieve the silence of our home. My home is quiet with the absence of my now young adult children. Our oldest, a daughter, lives a short distance from us and is currently very well established in a career holding down a management position. Our son lives a bit further away and attends Eastern Michigan University and works part-time. He is scheduled to graduate in June 2014. Sarah is also enrolled in one course at Lansing Community College. So, although my house is “quiet” and they are no longer in public education, they are both wrapped up in the school year routine.

When the kids were home and life centered around their schooling for those nine months from grades K through 12 our family pretty much planned our lives based on that calendar. As they got older and more involved with sports our schedules got even tighter and some weeks down-right hectic. Until one or both could drive the wheels on our van never seemed to stop turning. Running from practice to practice or a quick drive through for a bite to eat was a common thread as we tried to maintain who needed to be where at what time. You know what I mean. It was a God send when we connected with another family or two (or three) to help share in the transportation.

It’s only Sept. 3 and yet I’ve heard several people say “well, summer’s over”. I have to laugh because when our kids hit high school we pretty much figured our summer ended mid August when they began practice for fall sports. Now that those years are far behind me, I like to think that summer isn’t over until it’s over….and how will that look? Do I have to go by the official calendar date that marks the end of summer? Can I go by the outside temps and the ability to still wear sandals and shorts? Or enjoy the gentle breezes through open windows rather than closing everything to turn on air conditioning?

As much as I want or would enjoy having summer extend past August there’s just something about September. Even though the days are still warm and sunny (allowing one to wear sandals and shorts) there’s a different feel and smell to the air. A walk around my yard reveals evidence of plants slowly dying from their full vibrancy getting ready to go dormant for another winter. Taking a deep breath brings aromas that aren’t here in June or July….the smell of cooler air, the changing of the leaves, the dryness of the yard….fall definitely has its own “smell” and no amount of lamenting or cheering can change that fact.

After 10 years this is my first full summer being home. When I came home full-time in early May I thought “wow….I’ve got the whole summer to do what I want and when I want”….amazing now that I look back that I didn’t accomplish quite everything on my ‘summer dream list’. But that’s okay because now I’m easing into the arms of fall and actually looking forward to winter. With each season I gain a new sense of excitement as the natural changes of nature occur. I get bored easily and for that reason the change of seasons help to keep me anticipating and expecting new experiences and opportunities personally and within my family.

Summer 2013 has many memories recorded in my “treasure bank”, many of which I will pull to the front of my mind later this fall and into the long days of the coming winter. When I bring up a “treasured memory” hopefully it be over a glass of fresh apple cider or a mug of hot chocolate when the first snowfall creates a blanket covering the remnants of all that was fall. In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy each day, revel in any ability to continue wearing sandals and shorts and embrace what each day has to offer while anticipating my first deposit to my Fall 2013 “treasure bank”.

I’m not what people would describe as a “morning person”.  I am embarrassed to admit that in my younger years my mood for an entire day could be determined by how or when I was awakened. I also enjoyed sleeping in until mid morning when my mother wasn’t around to choose otherwise (that’s another whole blog). But, I’ve matured (I think) and have actually grown to love and embrace mornings especially when the sun is shining, filling our bedroom with the light and warmth from its majestic radiance.

I have always enjoyed the beauty of nature whether it was as a child watching ants work to build a home and gather crumbs for their food store or trapping crickets to have a collection of “pets”. I also was an eager assistant for digging up night crawlers with a neighborhood boy named David; his family had a cottage at Houghton Lake and were avid fishermen.

Perhaps my greatest enjoyment is listening to the songbirds that come to visit our pine trees and the many insects that have taken up residency in our shrubs, flower beds, and lawn. I’ve noticed that the birds are most active between 5 and 6 am. The conversations that I’m privy to as I begin to wake are most delightful. I love to imagine what they are talking about as each voice joins with another. Perhaps they are beckoning or announcing the promise of a new day…..a new food source…..or warnings of natural predators…..or are they responding to a Biblical command: “Praise the Lord from the earth, you great sea creatures and all the depths….beasts and all cattle; creeping things and flying fowl. (Psalm 148) I marvel that these small creations of God’s nature are obedient to their purpose.

Earlier this week we enjoyed (and still are) watching various butterflies coming to feast on our butterfly bush. The wonder of their fluttering wings is a sight to behold and even more enjoyable is that we can approach ever so cautiously and these lovelies don’t become afraid and fly off and away to another plant. We have been diligent in placing a hummingbird feeder on the porch but low and behold the annual visitors prefer the nectar provided by a hanging plant in full bloom. Some of these tiny birds have even hovered in front of the window either confused or admiring the reflection, all the while providing us a bit of brief entertainment.

As much as daytime hours provide abundant appreciation of the birds who come to our yard, I think the evening music is by far my favorite of all. Upon the setting of the sun a choir made up of numerous insects comes to life. On Tuesday evening I was entertained by a particular song piece that was an echo….first one group chirped a few lines and the second group answered…with its own melody. This back and forth concert lasted about half an hour. The song changed as the second group quieted and the first group continued with their performance.

When we’ve had a lot of rain which fills the ditch along our road, we get to enjoy the bellows of frogs. It’s been dry lately so I’m hoping for rain–I miss those guys! With the level of noise this section of the nighttime choir makes, it causes me to wonder “just how many frogs does it take to be that loud?”

It strikes me that the music of the nighttime choir helps to lull me into restful sleep and then with the same peaceful feeling be gently awakened by the morning vocalists. The words will forever be a mystery to me and yet a glimpse into understanding them may come from Lamentations 3: 22-23 “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness”. I’m thankful that all of creation responds with heartfelt gratitude for a new day, and their proclamation song fills my heart and my day with a beauty that is consistent and varied–fading from day to evening and evening ushering in a brand new day complete with a revised version of “God’s new mercies….”

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about “My Favorite Things”. This week as I pondered what I would write about a general concept kept crossing my mind. What if I were to compile a list of “things” that I can count on–you know–almost like Murphy’s Law. The concept that no matter how much one prepares for the day, the week, there are monkey wrenches thrown in the plan or in this case–those “things” that always pop up here and there throughout our day because we just know it will happen or needs to be accomplished. In entertaining this concept I’m not dwelling on negative events in any way. In fact, I am thankful that many of the “things” I can count on bring happiness to my life. So, with that established I’d like to give you a list of a few  “things” I can count on and, again, they are in no particular order other than number 1.

1. God’s promises to be made known to me each morning as I read His Word
2. Hot coffee every morning because that’s one of the many things my husband does to show his love for me
3. Sore muscles every Tuesday and Saturday following my strength training session
4. My best friend Luann singing in the morning as she readies her day
5. Morning chat time with my daughter on her way to work
6. Weeds in my flower beds
7. My perennials to come up year after year….producing new offshoots too
8. Mosquitoes buzzing…fireflies in July…..spiders emerging on cool days and ants looking for crumbs
9. Mailbox sunshine from Heather several times each month
10. A Sunday morning hug from Rhonda
11. My wonderful husband getting slightly irritated with other drivers on a long road trip
12. Seeing photos of my friends grandchildren or kids on their Facebook wall
13. A slight tease now and then from Kevin or one of the boys
14. Dirty laundry
15. An unexpected text message from Daniel to brighten my day
16. Inability to resist fresh baked cookies
17. Getting rain on a just-washed car
18. NEVER making the light at our corner
19. Poodle kisses from Jennah and Quinn
20. Feeling melancholy every September as children return to school

Because I am no longer working outside the home right now one would think that I am enjoying tremendous amounts of free time. Quite the contrary, I am finding that my calendar weeks fill quickly with opportunities to be occupied whether it’s for my benefit or for someone else. Fortunately, I have wonderful devices that alert me ahead of time when and where I  am scheduled to be throughout my week. As I move through each day I am often greeted with one or more of “my things I can count on”. I’m thrilled that I have God’s Word and that hot cup of coffee to begin my morning. A morning chat with my daughter is always a delight and if I receive mailbox sunshine when bringing in the afternoon mail my heart is warmed by the words penned with deep love. Daily tasks of preparing meals and washing dishes are intertwined with some time checking Facebook to see what’s going on in the lives of my friends and family; I can spot things that need prayer or even send a quick email to say hello or ask a question.

In an ever-changing world I like stability. I don’t like unexpected turn of events unless it means being able to exchange mundane for having fun! I like safe. If it weren’t for my faith and trust in God I would fear the uncertainties in life that bring fear and worry. I know that each day holds the potential for the “unexpected” and if or when something were to occur I will remain on the path called “Steadfastness”. As I do so, I will continue to take comfort from the “things I can count on” (See No. 1)

Today (Aug. 5) was another “one of those days” that didn’t belong to me or turn out the way I had thought it would be coming off a good weekend of weather and relaxation with friends which also included a quiet afternoon all to myself. As I settled into a cozy Sunday evening enjoying a cool breeze through the open window and a quick browse through my Facebook contacts I found myself in an open chat with a dear friend relaying the details of a medical emergency involving her daughter, who by the way, is the same age as our daughter. Thus, we are kindred spirits–we are mommas who share a deep love for our girls.

I don’t need or want to go into what those medical details are, nonetheless they are serious and with no hesitation my husband and I decided that in the morning (today–Monday) we would make the drive to the University of Michigan Hospital to visit Kelli, her husband, and our good friends and offer our support, encouragement, and above all else–an opportunity to pray with them instead of just FOR them.

Many of you (my dear readers) know that I live in a small rural community. Our tallest building is maybe three floors. And although I grew up in Saginaw our tallest building in the downtown was 12 floors. So, when we made our exit from US 23 to Downtown Ann Arbor, turning in the direction of the hospital complex I was amazed at the number of buildings connected to one another, several of them looming above the others and all bearing their specialties in big bold letters. I’ve been to Ann Arbor for trips to this same complex but each time has revealed a new aspect of the enormity of this particular healthcare system. At the moment that reality hit me,  I found myself catapulted from my small, quiet rural setting to the busy, hectic and complicated lives of individuals and families walking a hard road.

As we made our way through the parking ramp, each floor, each vehicle and their occupants began telling me an imagined story. I started forming questions in my mind such as ‘I wonder what all these people are doing here?” “Are there this many sick people?” “How many people work here?” The answers didn’t come. They couldn’t because I was an outsider, a bystander on the sidelines of each life.  No–instead on occasion I saw a family with a mentally challenged son make their way to the elevator. He was about 16. Was he born this way? Did an accident rob him of previous good health? Further along were several individuals in wheelchairs making their way to the elevators. Cancer? Therapy? Other needs? I began to think about some of our friends over the years who have been to this hospital for care: a kidney transplant from a daddy to his little girl, one of our son’s best friends who was treated in the burn unit, and others (too many) for cancer treatment.

As we walked the hallways of the hospital we also passed numerous personnel. Each one had a determined, purposeful look and gait to their step. I marveled at how young many of them looked. We also saw people who were in waiting areas…..men and women in wheelchairs….patients being walked down the hallway with a loved one all the while connected to an IV…..a mural of moving scenes that continued to draw me into a world full of questions, blankets of fear, and upside down dreams.

We arrived to our destination. Our visit with Kelli and her family was fantastic. We shared tears and we found laughter in the midst of encouragement and the reality of minor obstacles. We witnessed the love and care offered by complete strangers who are slowly becoming Kelli’s world for the next two weeks.

Later in the early afternoon in God’s great scheme of life, our footsteps crossed the path of a good friend from church who was waiting for a brother to arrive in order that they could make what are called “end of life decisions” for their dear father. In just a few days this beloved, aged man will exchange citizenship from  one place to another and we were able to encourage and give hugs before departing from that brief cross in two paths.

Upon our decision to return home, we took our place in the elevator for the very brief descent to the parking garage. In those very short moments we greeted another passenger, a lone female. One question from myself to her revealed her shocking news–a 57 yr. old boyfriend–formally in good health, diagnosed with pnuemonia had taken a turn for the worse and had been declared brain dead. She would be facing “end of life decisions” on Tuesday morning. All we could say was “We are SO sorry….” as the doors of the elevator opened and we parted our ways, another chance meeting of someone walking on a hard, emotional path leading to a final goodbye.

We left Ann Arbor in a fair amount of silence. We moved along with the busy traffic making our way out of the city to the expressway where we joined other cars and trucks of all sizes headed in our direction. I couldn’t help but think  again “what is their story?” as the hospital complex disappeared from our rear view mirror. I felt a twinge of sadness that with such ease I was able to be returning to the comforts of home, unencumbered and quite healthy knowing my biggest decision for the ensuing evening was choosing what to prepare for dinner. A wave of gratitude swept over me and blanketed me with humility and appreciation for living in good circumstances.

I’ve said final goodbyes to both parents and a mother-in-law. Those are bittersweet memories that I cherish, but having spent but a few hours in one our nation’s most prestigious hospitals still reminded me that life is fragile, it is precious and it is temporary. For that reason I am  joyfully embracing the Truth that my residency here on earth is not permanent. I feel myself dancing inside as I  focus and meditate on the promise that in John 15: 18-19 Jesus states that “I don’t belong to the world….” I belong to a great Shepherd Who is with me every step that I take. My prayer is that Mark can hear those Footsteps as he and his brother say goodbye to their dad…that the echo of His Footsteps bring comfort to the woman in the elevator reeling in unbelief and shock…..that the staff at ALL hospitals seek to walk in His Footsteps as they care for every man, woman, and child….and that everyone I meet has a “chance encounter” on a winding path of life’s experiences  with the One True Living God Who IS “our World”.

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!?”