I wasn't a runner.

I have been running almost every day for a very long time. Well.... considering the length of my life, I have been.

It started by wanting to become a better swimmer (a butterfly-er to be more exact) and I spent a good few weeks trying to pull my bulky body around my block without stopping for a breath. It quickly escalated into something that I wanted to do to become more healthy, perhaps more skinny (it's true). As I kept trying to make a bit farther every day, the trails in Lincoln served as a place of inspiration in the lack of my ability and with every stride I took, I felt more accomplished.

I had my own personal success but in comparison to some of the high school Cross Country girls I began running with, I was far behind. Despite the continuous lagging, I started to become a runner.

I once did this because it made me healthier and skinnier (Again....allow me to have this moment of truth). Soon it would become a part of who I was and who I desired to be: the feeling of my entire body moving, my feet hitting the pavement, the hope of becoming better, the will to go on when I failed, the refreshing air, and the sweat rolling down my back on those humid days.... 

My younger P.E. experiences consisted of struggling to keep up with the most unathletic children in the bunch. Those that remember the "Pacer" or the timed mile may understand..... and when I was 14 years old, my best mile time was just under 13 minutes. It was something I thought I could never be good at doing....I was told and I believed I wasn't built to run. I was ________ (this) or ___________ (that) but I wasn't a runner. 

You see, running used to be something that made me feel dead inside and out: humiliated, inferior... dead. Dead. Dead.

I've learned to savor my adoration for running because it's transformed so beautifully into the thing that makes me feel most alive.  It's now all about being in the outdoors in diverse Nebraska seasons, the countless ways I've seen the sun hit the trees and the pavement, the moments of silence where I can only hear my own self breathing.... and I know God is there, too. 

What I have found in this journey of becoming the runner that I wasn't "cut out to be" is that, in our weaknesses, God can and will make us strong. 

This last weekend in Lawrence, Kansas my York College Girls Cross Country Team won our Conference meet qualified for the NAIA Nationals race in Vancouver, Washinton and I finished second. Running ahead of the pack is not something I've been familiar with, however, for some reason it did not feel much different then all of the other moments I've come to life when I took off on a jaunt. 

This time, I was able to greet my Mom, my Dad, and my teammates with tears in my eyes. 

"Hard work pays off!" is what I have been told. What they don't tell you is that hard work may not pay off until several years later... and sometimes it's not about the work. It's about doing what you love. 

I want to find all the things that convince me of God's immediate presence because I believe these are the things we should devote or life to doing.  It is in these desires of our heart that His beauty, love, grace, and power can be revealed in ways that we could not possibly accomplish on our own.