Puzzeling

I am practical, disciplined, orderly and flat out compliant. There is a side of me that always wants to be wild, beautiful, creative and free spirited. Sometimes it gets its way... but usually the first wins out. I question, really question sometimes…. What was God thinking when he decided to wrap these polar opposites into one average sized freckly, wolf eyed girl?

He sees the completed project and I struggle to find the pieces and where they fit. It is hard to find a place for these messy, frustrating pieces. So,  I hand him each piece. He shaves away the sin, the dysfunctional traits acquired like barnacles on the bottom of a boat. Then-- I begin to see the original shape and where it fits. Even the messiest of pieces are returned to me beautiful, aligning perfectly in the seeming dichotomy of me.

It leaves me overwhelmed. The thought and care to cleanse and reshape; overwhelmed as I see God’s creativity in the design of each piece. When that true shape is revealed I catch a glimpse of the originality. In the drone of the everyday i let myself become accustomed to the view outside my window…  I become numb to the unique fingerprint he has placed in creation. But, when I am worked by the master’s hand I am stirred to recognition that I do not come from a cookie cutter mold.

 

The snag in it all….  how painful this barnacle removing process really is. With each cleaning and scraping I recollect C.S. Lewis’ description in Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  Eustice tries to remove the Dragon skin three times unsuccessfully and then he describes to his cousins how he is finally rid of the dreaded confinement by the great lion Aslan…..

 

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“Then the lion said –but I don’t know if it spoke- ‘You will have to let me undress you.’ 

I was afraid of his claws. I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. 

So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.

The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I have ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off....

Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off—just as I had done it myself the other three times, only they hadn’t hurt—and there it was lying on the grass: ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been.”
~

The revelation of each new piece deepens my love for this God who created me. I endure the pain, and find myself returning for more, over and over. I have found an intense joy in the job of becoming his design. The process, painful though it may be, is delicious and leaves me hungry and thirsty for more.

I Choose to Run

I'll admit, to the rest of the world it's not that early. It's 7:00 a.m. and for me, it's early. I quietly step across the cracky, knotted floors to my closet and slip into my running clothes. It’s an act of discipline that gets me this far. The one positive,   reaching this point is a triumph in itself. Once the sole of my foot meets the smooth flooring my resolve is set and I do not turn back, but I don't like the run.

Shadow in the morning sun (okay maybe it's more like 7:45)

I’m an organized list maker. I do well with defined goals. Running makes little sense to me. The goal, not tangible enough or immediate enough and because I cannot define the goal I struggle to assemble the steps to reach it. Currently, this is my only available option for exercise. So, I slide out of bed and bolster my resolve to understand and define. These are the lessons I have learned.

Lesson 1

A simple one, Pace Myself. My approach to life resembles a racehorse. Each task is attacked, like the shot was fired and the surrey gates flung open. My first journeys on the asphalt were silly sights. I tried to sprint 3 miles. My lungs burned and I gasped and sputtered for breath. I did race, to a quick halt.  Wondering how folks did this for miles and miles. Then, a light bulb in my oft thick skull, I could run at a slower speed and I may just complete the journey. This was a turning point.

I still sprint the last 300 yards. It makes me feel strong somehow.

Lesson 2

I cannot run the pace of my magnificent husband. His body was built for strength and speed. Mine’s not too shabby, but it cannot compete with his. When we began our journey together I sensed I was holding him back. I had to let him run and I have to complete my journey right where I am….

and I am okay with that.

Lesson 3

Being too goal oriented makes me poor company……. and I’m the one who loses in the end. My focus on the goal robbed me of the joy in the journey… or, the joy I could find with company on the journey. Trying to catch the runner in front of me makes me impatient and unwilling to take a slower pace to encourage the ones running near me. My kids are fantastic running partners and they easily step in pace beside me.

Their presence makes the run more enjoyable.

Lesson 4

My squeaky left running shoe makes folks smile. I think it’s really annoying and I need to get a new pair but watching them look up to see what that noise is and then smile in the knowing....

well it makes me feel bonded in humanity.

My squeaky shoes

All in all I have learned that the run is "The Goal" and I complete the run to learn the steps to it. I will remain disciplined to go on the journey so I can find out what it will teach me next.