Inspired by a wonderful sermon I heard today from Pastor Carlos Molina...
Once there was a young fig tree with leaves happy green, surrounded by fig trees of leaves happy green. The garden where he lived was welcoming, enjoyed by many as a haven of beauty and rest for the soul. Paths were worn by the feet of friends, lovers, and even the solitary ones who came to hear nature, feel the earth, and breathe color. The fruit of the fig trees was delightful and sweet, its pulp desired by many, its nectar enjoyed by all who came to the garden. The time for blossoms had arrived and the fig tree felt the power of life surge through him, beginning at the roots, traveling through the trunk, making his limbs shiver. But alas no blossoms came. He shook his limbs and tried again. Surely that was only a fluke, he thought. The other youthful fig trees were blossoming around him. He searched deep within the core, wiggled his roots and concentrated on producing beauty. Nothing. Disheartened, the fig tree bowed his head and wept silently. Maybe next year. Time and time again, after dismal winter had passed, he would witness the life of spring as shrubs and plants, even stately trees would burst with flowers with such natural artistry that it would take even his breath away. And he prayed that he too could add to the array of color and wonderment, hopeful that he could be fruitful so that others could enjoy the product of his love. One beautiful spring day a visitor came to the garden, and walked quietly among the flowers with a book under his arm and a blanket draped across his shoulder. He laid the blanket on the carpeted grass underneath the blossomless fig tree with leaves happy green. He read from his book, with a voice rich yet gentle. “Though the fig tree may not blossom… Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.” (Hab 3:17-18) The fig tree heard the words and in amazement came to the quiet realization that the power to blossom did not come from within him, but from He who had created him. With humble acceptance, he meditated on the words he just heard, happy to provide shade to his friend. His troubled heart finally at rest, the young fig tree thought, “In spite of my circumstance, I will have faith in my Creator, at peace with my lot, rejoicing and sharing what I do have with all who come underneath my happy green leaves.”
“The Lord God is my strength; He will make my feet like deer’s feet, and He will make me walk on my high hills.” Habakuk 3:19
sábado, febrero 23, 2008
viernes, febrero 15, 2008
How Far Will You Walk?
What motivates people to go through extraordinary measures for a cause? Is it love? Dogged determination and perseverance? Or are we spiritually wired with an inner resolve that transcends our mere existence and surfaces during times of hardship?
As my family and most of my friends know, I love to run long distances. It energizes and liberates me. I have no desire to run a full marathon- am quite content with the half-marathon distance and enjoy the challenge it brings without the strenuous training and time investments. I run for me and my health: physical, mental, and spiritual health. And I participate in "races" because I enjoy challenges and like to establish a few goals every now and then. But this year I thought about doing something different. Every year I try to find a race outside of my "area" - I ran in San Francisco the year before and just last year did a neat course in New Hampshire. So to continue tradition, I searched websites far and wide looking for that "perfect" location during that right time of year where training wouldn't take away from the enjoyment of my sport. I was searching hard and not coming up with anything that met my criteria for location, time of year and distance. Then I came across a flyer in the mail from the Susan G. Komen foundation. But it wasn't a half-marathon and it didn't require running. I was intrigued because if I do this, it will be the greatest physical and mental challenge for me EVER. It's called The 3-Day. We're talking 60 grueling miles over three days, and not running but walking. Walking, laughing, crying, singing with thousand of others. Walking for a cure to a cruel disease that every day snatches the vibrant lives of women around the world. This, I want to be a part of. I know I will get frustrated in the "slowness" of walking. I can run 13.1 miles in under 2 hours. But to walk 20 miles in one day - I don't know. We're talking 5 hours of straight walking, at a "fast" pace of 4 miles per hour. And by day 3, I'm not going to have the energy to walk at 4 miles per hour. But you know what? The women who have to undergo mastectomies, hair loss, pain, uncertainty- they go through so much more. At the end of the 3 days I can go home and submerge my aching body in a fragrant bubble bath and within days my body will be whole again. The inner and outer scars from breast cancer are with you and your loved ones forever. I can totally do this.
Reading the news today, I came across a beautiful story about a father and his crippled child that convinced me that walking 60 miles is nothing. This family lives in Iraq and have never had the luxury of owning a wheel chair. So the father carried his son everywhere he went. A wonderful civilian contractor working in Iraq felt a deep burden from watching crippled children dragging their thin bodies all over Baghdad because they did not have wheelchairs. So he began a program that donates wheelchairs to needy families. The father of this crippled boy walked 6 miles with the boy in his arms to collect his wheelchair. Within 100 yards from his destination some tried to take the boy from his arms to help him out. He was adamant. "I've been carrying this child all my life. I can carry him the last 100 yards to receive his wheelchair." That brought me to almost uncontrollable tears. Pictures of my heavenly Father came to mind with the reassurance that one day all this pain and suffering will be over. And children will be able to laugh and run and be free. And the frail, diseased bodies of mothers and sisters and daughters and friends will be made whole once again.
Jesus walked to Calvary to save us forever. The Iraqi father walked 6 miles for a wheelchair for his son. I can definitely dedicate 3 days of my life to walk 60 miles for a cause I believe in. How far will you walk?
If you want to join me in my 60 mile quest, email me. I would love to have a group of sisters at my side and share in this beautiful experience.
As my family and most of my friends know, I love to run long distances. It energizes and liberates me. I have no desire to run a full marathon- am quite content with the half-marathon distance and enjoy the challenge it brings without the strenuous training and time investments. I run for me and my health: physical, mental, and spiritual health. And I participate in "races" because I enjoy challenges and like to establish a few goals every now and then. But this year I thought about doing something different. Every year I try to find a race outside of my "area" - I ran in San Francisco the year before and just last year did a neat course in New Hampshire. So to continue tradition, I searched websites far and wide looking for that "perfect" location during that right time of year where training wouldn't take away from the enjoyment of my sport. I was searching hard and not coming up with anything that met my criteria for location, time of year and distance. Then I came across a flyer in the mail from the Susan G. Komen foundation. But it wasn't a half-marathon and it didn't require running. I was intrigued because if I do this, it will be the greatest physical and mental challenge for me EVER. It's called The 3-Day. We're talking 60 grueling miles over three days, and not running but walking. Walking, laughing, crying, singing with thousand of others. Walking for a cure to a cruel disease that every day snatches the vibrant lives of women around the world. This, I want to be a part of. I know I will get frustrated in the "slowness" of walking. I can run 13.1 miles in under 2 hours. But to walk 20 miles in one day - I don't know. We're talking 5 hours of straight walking, at a "fast" pace of 4 miles per hour. And by day 3, I'm not going to have the energy to walk at 4 miles per hour. But you know what? The women who have to undergo mastectomies, hair loss, pain, uncertainty- they go through so much more. At the end of the 3 days I can go home and submerge my aching body in a fragrant bubble bath and within days my body will be whole again. The inner and outer scars from breast cancer are with you and your loved ones forever. I can totally do this.
Reading the news today, I came across a beautiful story about a father and his crippled child that convinced me that walking 60 miles is nothing. This family lives in Iraq and have never had the luxury of owning a wheel chair. So the father carried his son everywhere he went. A wonderful civilian contractor working in Iraq felt a deep burden from watching crippled children dragging their thin bodies all over Baghdad because they did not have wheelchairs. So he began a program that donates wheelchairs to needy families. The father of this crippled boy walked 6 miles with the boy in his arms to collect his wheelchair. Within 100 yards from his destination some tried to take the boy from his arms to help him out. He was adamant. "I've been carrying this child all my life. I can carry him the last 100 yards to receive his wheelchair." That brought me to almost uncontrollable tears. Pictures of my heavenly Father came to mind with the reassurance that one day all this pain and suffering will be over. And children will be able to laugh and run and be free. And the frail, diseased bodies of mothers and sisters and daughters and friends will be made whole once again.
Jesus walked to Calvary to save us forever. The Iraqi father walked 6 miles for a wheelchair for his son. I can definitely dedicate 3 days of my life to walk 60 miles for a cause I believe in. How far will you walk?
If you want to join me in my 60 mile quest, email me. I would love to have a group of sisters at my side and share in this beautiful experience.
sábado, febrero 02, 2008
Bothered and Bemused
The older I get, the more persnickety I become. It's so funny how little things bother me to the point of insanity, like the pitch of someone's voice, dried toothpaste on the faucet, and little pieces of paper folded a million times. And because I know how much these unimportant things bother me, I have decided to become "slick-back". It's a new term I created that describes what I should do when I encounter a person or something about a person that drives me crazy. Butter my back and let it roll right off me. Life is too precious to let the fastidious 10% affect my essential 90%. So I put on my headphones, clean my bathroom, and throw little pieces of paper away, smile and tackle the real problems in life, like world peace, the environment, and my closet!
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