Day 21: Starving

Did you ever get so busy that you forgot to eat? Before you know it, you're cranky and exhausted, snapping at everyone around you. Your productivity begins to take a dive. It is hard to focus and easy to make mistakes. Things can become pretty ugly when we forget to eat.

I think the soul starves when we do not take time to ingest the daily bread of God's presence. I am finding that skipping a day or two of quiet time with God leaves me weak and snappish. I become lazy and lethargic. I lose my sense of purpose. Little things irritate me, and it is more difficult to find beauty in the world around me. Only when I notice the ugly symptoms do I realize that I am starving. I am ravenous. I need God to fill me. To function, I need to remember to eat.

Give us this day our daily bread.

Day 18: Bigger Hands

Sometimes facing a normal day can be as scary as facing something new. In fact I am more intimidated by inaction than challenge. Waking up to a dark-house morning, I put myself through the paces of getting ready for work. Even though it is Friday, I do not feel any particular sense of excitement. A long day of work is ahead of me, and my supervisor has begun leaning on me to increase my production. That adds stress to my work day, because I like to set my own pace and take my time to do a thorough job. Having to rush things makes it easier to make mistakes, and I hate receiving my work back with adjustments to be made after I already thought it was complete. I want to be able to live up to my manager's expectations, but sometimes it feels impossible. It is difficult for me to walk into a situation where my failure is not only possible, but probable.

I have been praying about my job and asking God to help me to do good work every day. I feel like I am already doing the best I can on my own. It may take some sort of aha-moment or unseen hand to shift me from this rut I am in. Until that happens I choose to trust that God has placed me in a job where I cannot succeed to either teach me something or to help someone else in an unseen way. I can accept that. It is good to know that the situation lies in bigger and more capable hands than my own. My day begins. Here I go.

Day 16: In the Stillness

Sometimes it is frustrating being a woman. As stereotypical as it sounds, I really do find myself subject to hormonal mood swings depending on the time of the month. On a day where nothing bad has happened, I feel grumpy seemingly without reason. The fact that I have no good reason for my bad mood makes me frustrated, and the fact that I can't shake it makes me even more grumpy. It's a vicious cycle. The only things I can do are to eat chocolate, to hold my tongue lest I say things I don't mean, and to pray. Out of the three, I am finding the last to be most successful today.

When I woke into a bad mood today, I decided to skip my morning run. Pushing myself to exercise when I did not even want to be awake turned out to be beyond my willpower today. I compromised by rolling out of bed when all I really wanted to do was reset my alarm and go back to sleep. After dressing, eating breakfast, and making a cup of coffee, I headed out to my yard to sit on the swing and pray.

In the stillness of the early morning, I began to lay my burdens at the feet of Father. Sunrise streaked a blue patch of sky as the swing gently rocked me. My coffee cup was an oasis of warmth in the chilly September dawn. In the quiet, in the stillness, I knew that He was God. I asked Him to walk with me through my day. I told Him about my job and asked for His help in doing my best work today. By the time I returned to the house, my heart was lighter. I still have to deal with the burdens of life, great and small, but God meets me in the stillness. I am not alone.

Day 15: Through My Ears and Over My Heart

As I journeyed through the wilderness my life used to be, I always sought out music that spoke to where I was at that place and time When I was a child and teenager, a steady influx of Christian music fed me. However, college brought new life circumstances, and I expanded my musical palate to include a wide variety of very good secular music that was more in tune with my questioning, wandering heart. No longer believing in God simply because it was how I was raised, I began to feel like Christian music deserved a harder scrutiny than I had ever before given it. Did I believe what I was listening to? Was it a cliche? Were those artists simply regurgitating scripture and theology to cookie-cutter chord progressions and instrumentation? Did the music mean anything to me?

I completely stopped listening to Christian radio because my heart was not in the same place as the songwriters' lyrics of faith and praise. I was angry with God and unsure of what I believed. The songs I listened to were by artists like David Bazan, who sang about his own struggle with Christianity, and Nickel Creek, whose song Doubting Thomas seemed to speak my own heart's concerns. I was wandering in a wilderness of pain, doubt, and confusion, and I needed a soundtrack that matched my life.

After being born again two weeks ago, I started listening to Christian radio again. I figured I would give it a fair chance since I actually believed in God and His plan for my life again. Feeling a little bit foolish, I turned on the radio in my car on the way to work, trying to have an open mind. I was and still am biased against the Christian music industry, but I figured there had to be at least a little bit of good music mixed in with all of the ho-hum canned stuff. As I listened to the words of those songs, I began to feel my heart resonating with them in a new way. Words celebrating salvation and hope echoed my own newfound freedom from depression. For the first time in years, I believed in the God around whom those songs swirled, and the music was more than concepts and words.

Though my animosity toward Christian radio had dissipated, my bias against it was still in force. I began to think about searching for songs of hope that also were not afraid to portray the messier side of life and the true depth of God's grace. Our local Christian radio station has branded itself as family friendly, which is fine. However, we live in a messy, broken, hurting world. I need more than just squeaky-clean songs. I need a soundtrack that sings the songs of my life, and my life is not a happy bubble. There must be songs for anger, songs for disappointment, songs for confusion, songs for doubt. Songs for coming back home, songs for dark nights, songs for loved ones who died young, songs for enemies, songs for broken relationships. But for my life soundtrack, God must also be in those songs.

I woke up this morning groggy and unrested. After a night of fitful dreaming, the last thing I wanted to do was crawl from my bed and face the day. In a gray humor I drove to work. I began to pray, which is my new habit whenever I find myself in a bad mood. I believe that God uses my emotions to point out problems in my life and to keep me from getting too distracted by the little things, thus ignoring the big picture. As I prayed, I turned on the radio to the Christian station. Amy Grant began to sing about how crying about our problems to God is better than a hallelujah sometimes. "We pour out our miseries. God just hears a melody. Beautiful, the mess we are. The honest cries of breaking hearts are better than a hallelujah." Wow. That was not a song of feel-good theological regurgitation. I mean, yes, it contained spiritual principles, but the truth within the song felt real, gritty, and raw. I wanted more.

When I got to work I created an Internet radio station on Pandora.com based on the Amy Grant song I had liked. The songs that came up were okay, but they were not quite my style of music. I typed in Derek Webb instead, remembering how much his song "Wedding Dress" had affected my perception of God's love for our broken humanity. The music that resulted from my search absolutely blew me away. Song after song carried powerful lyrics about life both messy and beautiful. Songs of faith and praise mingled with grief for a sister who had died young. The instrumentation of the various artists and bands was similar yet diverse. Each carried a singer/songwriter vibe, but while some were a simple guitar and vocal combo, others were intricate in their percussion, strings, and other unexpected instruments, like the banjo or bells. As I listened, I realized that I had found a treasure trove. Each song went through my ears and over my heart, bathing me in beauty and truth.  I had found the soundtrack to my life.

It feels good to enjoy Christian music again.  There are still many songs that I really, really love that have nothing to do with God, but since my life has changed, so has my perspective.  I no longer see the world in the same way I did before I was made new.  Everything seems so much more purposeful.  I look for the beauty hidden in ugliness.  I find myself looking for ways to bring healing to the lives of people I meet every day.  I see God everywhere, and I believe in His goodness.  Now, I have music that sings with my heart, and my heart sings with the heart of God, which beats with compassion and love for the world.  That is something worth singing about.

Day 14: Two Things

After almost a week of not being able to run, I finally laced up my Nikes, grabbed my headphones, and hit the street. I was a little nervous about heading into the second week of my 5k training without running a single step in days, but by the time I began my first running segment, I felt great. That first run came as close to joy as I have ever reached while attempting to run. The pavement seemed to fly under my light feet. It was good to run. The easiness did not last much past that first run, but the memory of it carried me through the rest of my workout.

I noticed two things as I ran and listened to God today. The first was the sense of community I felt with other runners. As we passed each other, we would wave or say, "Hi." Even though I am new at running, when I saw another runner on the street, I felt like I belonged to a group. The fact that we were sharing the street in our running clothes and shoes in the early morning made two people alike in a way they may not have been if each had not decided to run that day. Seeing other runners also made me feel good about my own run. Other people had also dragged themselves out of bed in the predawn chill to make their bodies sweat and strain. I could do it, too. By choosing to wake up and run, I became part of a community that I would not have had access to if I had stayed in bed.

The second thing I noticed while running today was that sometimes it is easier to inhale and exhale consistently if I take a shorter breath before trying to exhale. Instead of inhale-2-3-4 and trying to force myself to exhale 2-3-4 in the same rhythm, it was easier to inhale-2, exhale-2 for a few rounds after transitioning from run to walk. I would gradually work it back to inhale-2-3, exhale-2-3, then finally back to a count of four. Instead of gasping in great breaths and trying to hold them until I could gasp in another, I could take shorter breaths and easily push out as much as I pulled in.

What did I learn from God as I ran with Him today? When I choose to run, whether in the body or in my faith, I become part of a community. I am not alone in my effort, and there is joy in meeting others who are running the same path as I am. Also, I do not have to take in great gasping breaths of the presence of God and then struggle to exhale Him into the lives of other. I van experience him in small ways and share him in small ways right now, and eventually my capacity will increase.

Thanks for the run, God. I have missed running with you.

Day 12: A Land of Promise

It's been a few days since I have been able to catch my breath, sit down, and spend some time contemplating life. I have been working a lot of overtime at the dental lab during the past week, and I have had cake orders to fulfill the past two nights. Strain and exhaustion have dominated my waking hours. It is good to finally collapse onto the couch in my silent, sun-filled living room on this blissful Saturday afternoon. My sweat pants and bare feet testify that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do. Perfect.

I have greatly enjoyed spending time with my daughter Zadie this morning. It is rather rare that I get to spend an unbroken chunk of hours with her, and this morning has been rich. She is a little less than two years old, and already she has such spirit and intelligence that I am continually surprised by things she says and does. How beautiful it is to kneel down to explain that her stickers can go on her legs, but not the floor, and have her pat me on the shoulder with her tiny hand. "I love you, too, Mama!" Those are the sweetest words in the world.

I am blessed by the God I serve. Every time I delight in my daughter's presence, my heart fills with gratitude that God has given me new life and the ability to enjoy this precious little girl. My heart used to be so heavy that even Zadie's smiles and laughter could not lift it. God has taken my burdens, and freedom is sweet.
I was thumbing through my Facebook newsfeed this morning when I came across a friend's request for prayer. She was preparing to face a scary situation, and she reached out to us for encouragement and support in preparation for Monday's meeting. As I prayed for her, one of my favorite Bible verses came to mind.

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)

I found the verse in my Bible app and decided to read the whole chapter for my morning devotional time. It is the first chapter in the book of Joshua. Moses had just died after leading God's people to the brink of the promised land. The Israelites had wandered in the wilderness for 40 years because they were too afraid to trust God's leadership after he delivered them from the Egyptians. Chastised and ready to trust God again, they stood at the brink of the Jordan river and waited for God to raise up a leader to take them out of the wilderness and into the promised land. Enter Joshua.

God spoke to Joshua and gave him instructions on how to lead the people across the river and into the land he had promised to their ancestors. God had special instructions for a few of the tribes: the Reubenites, the Gadites, and the half-tribe of Manassah.

"Remember the command that Moses the servant of the Lord gave you after he said, 'The Lord your God will give you rest by giving you this land.' Your wives, your children and your livestock may stay in the land that Moses gave you east of the Jordan, but all your fighting men, ready for battle, must cross over ahead of your fellow Israelites. You are to help them until the Lord gives them rest, as he has done for you, and until they too have taken possession of the land the Lord your God is giving them. After that, you may go back and occupy your own land, which Moses the servant of the Lord gave you east of the Jordan toward the sunrise." Then they answered Joshua, "Whatever you have commanded us we will do, and wherever you send us we will go. (Joshua 1:13-16 NIV)

God had already given those tribes a place of rest right where they were, but he charged them to go and fight alongside the other tribes until everyone had a place of rest, not just themselves. As I read those verses, I was mindful that God has led me to a place of rest, but He also has me on the brink of a land of promise. I am not alone in this life journey, and He calls me to follow His leadership across the river and into a hostile territory. Even though I have found rest, this is not the end of my journey. I must move forward until everyone has the rest I posses. Like the tribes of Israel, I say, "Whatever you have commanded me, I will do, and wherever you send me, I will go."

Until all of you find the place of rest that I have found, I am here to fight alongside you. My heart is open, and God gives me the courage to do whatever I must to see all of you to the place he has promised you. May our journey together be one of courage and strength.

Day 9: Idiot!

It was too late to swerve by the time I saw the grassy median speeding toward my car.  I'm not sure what I yelled as I yanked the steering wheel to the right and bounced my tire over the curb, but it probably was something like, "Stupid!!!!!  You're so stupid!!!!!"  I was shouting at myself.

When I drove out of the parking lot after work, I had picked up my cell phone to call my sister.  Everyone knows it is not very safe to distract oneself by dialing the phone while driving, so I sensibly waited until I was parked at a stop sign to glance down at my phone and push the buttons to dial her number.  I held the phone to my ear and waited for it to ring.  Nothing happened.  As I began to pull out from the stop sign, I glanced at my phone and realized the call had not been sent.  Growling a mild curse, I pushed the button again.  It was then that I saw the approaching median.  In my distraction I had taken the turn too wide, and by the time I realized it, it was too late to do anything but grit my teeth and hope that I didn't blow a tire.  I careened over the curb with a bump and shakily straightened out, back in the correct lane.

"IDIOT!  YOU'RE SO STUIPD!!!!"  I flung my cell phone onto the passenger seat in disgust as I filled the air in my car with self-depracating, angry words.  "YOU COULD HAVE HURT SOMEOME!  YOU COULD HAVE BLOWN A TIRE!  STUPID!  STUPID!  STUPID!!!!!!"  I was livid.  What a ridiculous thing to do.  Was it really worth risking my safety to make a phone call at that moment?  Was it worth the risk of hitting another car?  Of damaging my car and costing my family money to repair it?  Of facing my husband with the stupid mistake I had made?  I was so angry with myself.  How could I have made such a mistake?  Everyone knows it's not safe to play with your phone while driving.  I was such an idiot.

Thirty seconds after my encounter with the median, my sister called me.  The last thing I wanted to do at that moment was pick up the phone, but I answered anyway.  I did need to talk to her.  I was supposed to be picking her up for a doctor's appointment, and she needed confirmation that I was going to be there on time.  I kept the call as brief as possible, and it was hard to keep the anger out of my voice as I quickly communicated the information and hung up.  Stupid, stupid.  I knew I had made a mistake, but I didn't know what to do next.  There was no one to whom I could apologize.  I had hurt no one, damaged no one's property, and I basically had just ended up scaring myself badly.  It could have been so much worse, but I still didn't know how to forgive myself for my error.

I began to pray and tell God how angry I was with myself.  I told him about how stupid I felt and how grateful I was that nothing bad had resulted.  As I confessed my mistake, I began to feel a lessening of the anger and tension.  I didn't have a person to whom I could apologize, but I could apologize to God and to myself.

When I finally picked my sister up, I told her about the mishap.  She laughingly related a story about something similar that had happened while she was in the car with some other family members.  She remembered how funny it was and how they had all ended up laughing.  It still didn't feel like something to laugh about to me, but at least I was not the only one who had driven over a median in a moment of stupidity.  I began to feel a little bit better.

By the time I told the story to my husband this evening, all of the anger was gone.  I still feel a little bit sheepish about my error, but I had been able to confess it and forgive myself for being human.  I think confessing it to God was what gave me the courage to tell anyone else about it, though.  I am so grateful that I can tell him anything, and I'm thankful for his forgiveness.

This verse popped into my head as I was reflecting on today's mishap:

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."  -1 John 1:9

When I have made mistakes great or small, I am grateful that God forgives me and helps me to forgive myself.

Day 8: Out of the Darkness

"The people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned." (Matthew 4:16 NIV)

After living in the shadow of depression and anxiety for years, this verse has particular meaning to me. It was originally a prophecy written by Isaiah. The prophecy was fulfilled in the book of Matthew when Jesus emerged from his forty day temptation in the wilderness and went to settle in Galilee. It was in Galilee that he called his first disciples. They were simply living their lives, busy with their careers, when Jesus showed up one day and called them to follow him. In agreeing to leave their old lives behind, Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John began a journey that would change the world.

I have lived in the darkness, busy with my family, career, and ambitions. Not until Jesus arrived did I emerge, leaving behind my old life to follow him. I am truly a disciple now, choosing to follow, desiring to learn, and hoping to change the world. Out of the valley of the shadow of death, and into the dawning light I come. My life is forever changed.

Day 7: Inhale, Exhale.

September is here, and with it comes blessedly cooler weather.  I have never been a person who loves humidity and summer sun, so every year I celebrate the arrival of fall and joyfully unpack my hooded sweatshirts from the cardboard boxes in our basement.  Today was the first chilly morning of the month, and I left my driveway dressed for twenty degrees warmer than the fifty degrees my Weather.com app proclaimed for Ottawa, IL 61350.  I was going for a run, and a runner friend of mine had advised that I not bundle up too much since my body heat would kick in while I was running.  Goosebumps popped out on my arms as I briskly began to walk.  I pulled in the crisp air in deep, even breaths that matched my stride.  "In-two-three-four" through my nose matched "out-two-three-four" through my mouth.  After a five minute warm-up walk that actually did manage to infuse a little heat into my t-shirted body, my headphones carried, "Start running," to my ears, and I chased my shadow down Moore Street.

The first stretch of running felt great.  My arms and legs pumped, and the sun was warm on my back, though the air in my lungs was decidedly chilly.  It was easy to keep my head high, and I was actually a little disappointed when, "Walk now," checked my exuberant progress. 

I am still new at learning to run, and the transition between running and walking hits me hard.  As soon as my steps slow, I find myself gasping for breath like a fish flopping on the beach.  What was measured breathing only moments before becomes a ragged gasp as I struggle to maintain a semblance of the "In-two-three-four, out-two-three-four" that had been so easy and natural when I was running.  I managed to breath in for four steps, but breathing out as slowly was more difficult.  I found myself struggling to keep from "In-two-three-four, Out-two, In-two-three-four, Out-two."  I think I managed "Out-two-three" eventually, but that was definitely a challenge.  My body wanted to pull in as much air as possible, loathe to let it go, longing to pull in more as quickly as I would let it.

Whenever I run I consecrate the time spent running.  I do not listen to music, and I use the quiet as an opportunity to pray and listen to God.  I used to get so frustrated trying to listen to God because it seemed silly to "listen" for something that is not audible.  Now I have found that God speaks not into my ears but into my mind.  As I think about what is happening in my life and the world around me, ideas pop up, and I perceive God's voice in them.  Maybe a Bible verse will come to mind, or a lyric from a song.  Sometimes I will remember a point of theology taught in church.  As I get to know the character of God through reading the Bible and listening to the discourse of other Christians, it becomes easier to see the world as He sees it.  I much prefer His perspective to my own.  He speaks love, hope, perseverance, faith, trust, and beauty into life's circumstances.  He desires everything that is good.  He seeks to mend what is broken, find what is lost, heal what is diseased, and restore what has been worn away.  When I look at life through those eyes, the world is made new.  Where I would have seen an impossible situation, God says that there is hope.  When I want to avert my eyes from ugliness, God tells me to find the beauty that is also there.  This is what I listen for as I run.

I was struggling to breathe regularly this morning when I realized that it is easier to breathe in slowly than it is to breathe out at the same pace.  It seemed significant.  I have noticed that it is also easier for me to inhale the presence of God than it is for me to exhale Him into the lives of others.  In fact it seems to closely follow the pattern of my physical breathing while learning to run.  I am now eager to bring Him into myself, but I am not so ready to let it out.  Is it because I feel desperate for more of Him, so desperate that I feel I must pull in more than I expel?  Am I afraid to breathe Him into those surrounding me?  Believing in God is a personal decision, and I do not want to be one of those people who tries to make everyone else believe the same thing I do because I am right and they are wrong.  I respect that each person has his or her own life journey.  I don't want to offend anyone by expressing my belief in God.  It is easier to focus on my own journey than it is to share it with other people, especially if no one has taken the initiative to ask me about it.  Do I hold back on purpose?  No.  But neither do I seek for opportunities to reach out with the truth I have found.

As I learn to discipline my physical breathing, may I also learn to exhale the presence of God into the lives of the people around me. 

Day 6: Newborn

It is a well-known fact that becoming a believer in God is not a cure-all for life's problems. Yes, deciding to believe in God is a transforming experience. Personal transformation, however, is not a magical portal to a perfect life. I have been attending church since a couple of weeks after I emerged from my mother's womb, so I have heard these truths more times than I can possibly number. It doesn't make it any less painful to be confronted with their reality.

I have had an amazing five days since I made the decision to believe in God and His plan for my life. Those days were filled with peace and rest. I was able to experience happiness and joy that has eluded me for many months, and I basked in my newfound oneness with God and the life He had given me. It was a beautiful, healing experience. However, when we are born again, we are not born into a protective bubble that shields us from the pain of human experience. Like a new baby, we emerge from our place of quiet security.

We are pushed into a world that is loud, confusing, messy, and uncomfortable. We are cut off from the immediate, direct nourishment of God's life-sustaining presence. We must open our eyes to see him. We must cry out. We must pass from His shielding enclosure into unfamiliar surrounds, reaching out our arms for him. But like a mother, he gathers us back to himself. He washes us clean. He quiets our cries. He nourishes us and protects us, holding us close in swaddling clothes. We are newborn, passing out of a place of security and safety and into the living embrace of God. The world is scary, but he is there.

Today I was confronted by the fact that believing in God has not kept me from experiencing pain. My family of origin is still broken, and that still hurts. I still do not see the hand of God in my parents' divorce, and I still do not understand how what happened to us could be God's will. I believe that it is, and that makes accepting things a little bit easier, but it would be nice if it made sense. I don't know if I will ever fully comprehend the reasons in this lifetime. I am trying to accept that and remember how many of God's followers in the Bible did not live to see their prayers answered, but God went on to answer those prayers in his own time. I pray with all of my heart for my family to be healed. I believe that God will indeed heal us, but maybe not in the way or the time I expect. I choose to believe. This brings me peace.

I feel the pain of living in this world, but my eyes are open. My hands are reaching out. I will cry out to God, and he will hold me close. I am newborn.

Day 5: Rest

Saturday is a beautiful thing to me. I work the five weekdays, then I have Saturday and Sunday off with my husband and baby daughter. While my work is far from awful, it is very repetitive and keeps me away from my heart: home and family. The weekend comes like a breath of fresh air, blowing away the stagnant work-a-day week. It transports me to a place of warmth, creativity, challenge, and rest.

It is easy to fill up the weekend before it even begins. If I'm not careful, my calendar gets so clogged up with commitment that I allow myself no time to enjoy my home and family. Without space to rest, I become a frazzled, heart-pounding, ball of stress. I may accomplish many tasks and create wonderful things, but if I do not allow myself time to rest, when will I ever get to step back and appreciate what I have done? If I am not careful, I am carried away by a fast-rushing, endless stream of things to do.

Rest is more, however, than a blank schedule. There have been days when I have had no obligations at all and still was unable to be at peace. Taking a nap did not feel like resting. It was more like an attempt to escape the fear and anxiety clouding my day. Watching TV was a way to forget about my own troubled thoughts until I could escape to sleep. I had to feed my ears and eyes with a steady flow of distractions just to keep panic from overwhelming me at work or at home. Fridays terrified me, because the weekend meant no work routine to consume my day and protect me from my fearful thoughts. Just the thought of being home with my family all weekend made a pool of anxiety well up inside of me, sometimes overflowing into tears. I knew something was broken inside of me, but no matter how many fun things I planned for my weekend, I still dreaded it.

This weekend has been, as I said, a breath of fresh air. When I decided to finally, truly believe in God and His will for me, the fearful thoughts ceased. As in, they no longer exist. For the first time in years, I am at peace. Instead of being something to be dreaded or messily navigated, my weekend has become a time to enjoy my family.

Sitting on a flagstone at the edge of the park today, I smilingly watched my husband chase my daughter in the late summer sunshine. My heart was full. I felt absolutely amazed by the transformation that had occurred in me simply by trusting in God. I am a new person. My life spreads out before me like a sunny landscape, rife with promise. My mind has found rest.

For food for thought regarding the rest God gives to us, read Hebrews 3:7-19 and 4:1-11. :0)

*ding* "Run now."

I set out in the slightly muggy dawn for my second day of learning to run. After pushing "start" on my Couch to 5k-type app, a voice in my ear told me, "Begin a five minute warm-up walk.".

"Alright, God," I thought. "Here I am. I'm listening."
My warm-up walk took me down a couple of blocks and to the corner of an intersection. As the voice told me, "Run now," I smiled and turned the corner. I began to run.
There was no music pumping through my iPod as my feet padded down the empty street. The silence of the early morning and the quiet presence of God were my only companions. A lengthy span of level ground stretched out before me, and I fixed my eyes upon a distant stop sign. After 30 seconds of running, the voice in my ear told me, "Walk now."

"Already?" I thought, pleased. "That was fast. I am not even winded yet." I was still far from the stop sign I had set as my visual goal, but the voice told me to walk, and I obeyed it. I ran and walked alternately two more times before reaching the sign and turning another corner.

"Run now." What if God is like the voice in my ear? I choose to run with him. I commit to a training program and set aside time and space to listen and obey. I choose the route my steps take today, but I listen for that voice to tell me when to run and when to walk. I don't have a clock, so I'm not sure when I will hear another command. I just trust in the program and keep running or walking until the voice tells me differently. "Run now." I ran.

Day 3: Now What?

The day is hot and humid. The shadows of leaves play across the grass as I lie on my belly outside the Ottawa Dental Lab. It is break time. I have fifteen minutes to myself before I go back inside to finish making some clear night guards and an upper denture. Something about the feel of the grass on my elbows and the hot air on my face is making me sleepy, and I long for a nap in the sun. Just an ordinary day at work. Just a normal day in the life of Joy. My question after the excitement of the last couple of days is, "Now what?" I have been made new, but I am still in the same life. I am still me. I have a reason to live, but what do I do in the time when God is not calling me to do anything particular? I guess I will feel the wind on my face. I will make some night guards and cook dinner for my family. I will listen for the voice of God, and I will grow where he has planted me.