Victory is contagious

As I walk through the Runner’s Expo the day before the marathon, I’m picking up on a repeated theme. I see it at every turn. Placards, t-shirts, bumper stickers. It is phrased in a variety of ways, but the message is the same. 

I can do anything if I can run a marathon. 

Because this is the day before I tackle this giant, and I’m full of doubts and nervousness and fear, I feel like these folks are full of it and a little chuckle escapes my mouth. They might be slightly overrating what this experience is gonna do for them I’m thinking. 

And then I run the marathon. 

And a funny thing happens.  I start to believe it. 

As the euphoria fades and life gets back to normal, I find this very theme permeating my thinking, creeping into every nook and cranny of my life and I start to realize something. 

Victory is contagious. 

It is an amazing feat to buffet your body and make it your slave. To make it kneel to your will and despite all odds accomplish what your heart and mind have set out to do. 

But I have to be honest here. 

I’d love to say I met the best version of myself out there on the road. Training every day, mile after mile. Truth is, I met the worst of me. The me that throws pity parties, takes everything personal and makes excuses. The me that is self-centered, can’t handle criticism and is super moody.  The me that is defeated easily. Quickly. 

Well, ok, to be fair, that’s only half the truth. The whole truth is I also met the best of me out there.  I met me, girl at war with herself, working it out there on the pavement. The me that wants God to win no matter what. The me that is loyal and persistent and brave.

While the feat at hand was overtly physical, what I didn’t see coming was how God was going to use it to raise the emotional and spiritual bar in my life. Habits and patterns of thought that I had lived with for years suddenly were being challenged. 

When I found my self beating the old, well known path to my pit of despair and self loathing, I found the Spirit whisper to me,

Come here. Come up out of there. This isn’t where you live any more. If you can run 26.2 miles, you can overcome this. 

And for the first time in a long time, I believed it. 

Victory is contagious. 

The victory I felt after the marathon was so sweet because I knew myself. I’m no marathon runner. Who did I think I was? The doubts. The fears!  With the honest truth of who I really am smacking me in the face, truly this made the victory that much sweeter and left me craving more. More victorious moments. 

Suddenly I was unwilling to tolerate strongholds that, apparently,  had crippled me for years. Get out of that pit! Stop looking to people to validate you. Quit living for others.  

This victory in one area acted as a catalyst to all these other underlying battles I had been fighting.

I’ve never quite understood that phrase, when the Bible calls us “more than conquers in Christ” (Romans 8:31-39) but I grasp it more now than ever before.  He doesn’t just desire little victories here and there. He doesn’t just call us to conquer. He tacks on that image of more.

More than conquerors.

He doesn’t just call us to isolated, one hit wonders. He calls us to a lifetime of overcoming, through Christ who loved us, seeking Him at every turn, giving us victory against some of our most formidable foes and pitfalls.

But, our victories aren’t just for us. One of the most amazing parts of the marathon was turning every corner looking for my people. I knew they were scattered along the course, with their homemade signs and cameras. They had been there for every mile I trained, every misstep, every ice bath, every horrible foam-roller stretching episode.  I think my victory was just as sweet for them that day.  Maybe just as contagious.

Just keeping it real though, in life I really don’t let others in on my victories very well.  This is because, to tell of the victory, I have to tell the battle. Here, in this vulnerable, touchy place, God is teaching me that victory is contagious. Sure, my victory is for me, but it’s also for the people walking through this life with me. The people watching. When battle stories are shared, with all the agonies of the defeats, as well as the thrills of the victories, there is unique opportunity to speak truth into each other’s lives.

When we see a friend moving back down the path to old ways where we know God delivered them from—because you were at every course by course turn-- you can remind them of the truth. “Hey, no you don’t! Don’t wallow it that pit! Remember that victory? You are more.” 

Isn’t this our role? Our privilege? To stand beside one another and yell our loudest “You can do this!” Or maybe it’s to say; “I was there that day when you did it, when you overcame. I remember your victory! I KNOW you are more than a conqueror.” 

How about a simple “you are not alone.” I couldn’t have run the marathon without my incredible training partners (Emily! Beth!) Just knowing they were with me made me braver, helping me to not give up. I’m convinced that this is one of the biggest ploys of the enemy of my soul: to keep me isolated and alone. Just not really being honest with anyone about what’s happening for reals in my heart. My struggles. My defeats. My victories. 

The best training strategy I can see is to find some kindred spirits and just keep sharing what God is doing.  Keep running after the prize and the promise that there is victory ahead. Swap stories of defeat and victory and share all the gory battle details. Keep letting God get all up in my business and reveal to this weary heart what’s next in the battle plan. 

All I know is I want more. Victory is contagious.

Momma said there'd be days like this

Today I feel like punching someone in the face. 

It’s just that kind of day. 

Some days I wake up fighting mad and I don’t know why. Kinda my version of Breaking Bad except more anger, less action and thankfully no meth.  Clearly not my best self and it humbles me to admit it. Even as I acknowledge it with these words on a page, my pride screams “no” and I want to take it all back, dress it up in a pretty package to make it seem more lady like. More flattering. Less realistic. 

As much as I just want to write about God meeting me on the mountain top, with the sun shining on my face and glory oozing forth from every moment, I know I’m also suppose to share the dark recesses and crevices where He finds me living in loneliness and despair—and share of the sweet things He whispers there in the darkness.  

Momma said there’d be days like this, but honestly I’m thinking I didn’t get a whole lotta direction on what to do with all 24 hours of them.  This too shall pass and the sun will come out tomorrow, and my personal favorite Tomorrow is another day are all true, wonderful lovely statements that sustain me on these days for about 30 seconds. Then I have a full day of struggling through the muddy waters of just getting through it? Which makes me more angry because I know how fleeting life is and losing one day even to my self imposed pity party is just ridiculous. 

So what is a girl to do? Having lived these days like a repeated theme monthly (hormones, anyone?) I have found even here my Jesus is with me, willing to lead me and guide my stubborn heart if I would but let him. Here are a few things he has taught me along the way.

Declare a No Decision Zone. One of my favorite shows when I was little was the Twilight Zone-a dimension between time and space where nothing seems right and you don’t know what is happening. Yep. That pretty much sums it up.  On these mornings, my feet hit the ground and I just know I’ve entered the NDZ. I have to declare this boundary for myself because I know I’m not operating at best decision-making capacity. My judgment is off. My perception is slightly irrational. My thinking is combative and feisty. So this day is not the day to head off to the local tattoo shop with that “living on a prayer” idea I’ve been pondering. Nor is it the day to nip that relationship issue in the bud. Or respond to that email I've been putting off. This day I need both boundary and buffer zone from my own destructive self. Acknowledging I’m not the best version of myself today is a form of self-control and humility that can save me from regret. Of course I know this from experience. Making decisions when you are angry, depressed or irrational rarely turn out great.

Pay attention to your heart murmurings. These days have turned into super interesting days of introspection, which of course can be part of the problem. Too much inward analysis can drive this crazy train, but I’m learning to pay attention to what I’m muttering under my breath. Out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. What I find myself mumbling about and dwelling on in my mind are keys to understanding what I really believe about others and myself on these days. More often than not, they are lies. Journaling is what God has used here to help me see these thoughts for what they are. Bringing them out into the light. I’ve learned to process with the Holy Spirit through journaling, praying and then applying God’s truth through His Word.  Many of these days have been redeemed because of this Holy Spirit counseling session. They don’t call Him the Great Counselor for nothing!

Open up to a trusted friend. I say trusted friend because today may not be the day to make new friends in the carpool line (did you read my opening line?!) Or unload on your barista. Or let us all in on your sorrows via status update. These are the people who have been proven through the fire. Who can tell something is off in your voice or just by the look in your eye. Call them. Sometimes the only thing I need to know on these days is I’m not the only one who has ever felt this way and I’m not alone. But, (NEWSFLASH) no one can read your mind. Let the trusty friend in.

Don’t feed the animal. It is good and humbling to realize just how open I am to suggestion when I’m in a vulnerable place. For me this means I need the gutter and clutter guards to go up. It’s best for me to lay low on the social media on these days. News feed is not my friend. I have to pay closer attention to my song and movie choices as I ask myself is this helping or hurting me? Feeding the darkness or shedding light on it? 

There ain’t no high like the Most High (Beth Moore-love her!) Now is the time to be uber aware of the tendency to reach out to anything and everything to fill the deep, cavernousness hole I feel on these days and equally aware that nothing can satisfy what I am seeking but God Himself. I need a high. I want to make sure I’m going with the Most High.  The one that doesn’t leave me with regret and death, but gives  life. I’m desperate and He promises to fill me.  Likewise, He has created us with capacity to enjoy natural highs that are good and right and fulfilling.  I’ve learned to tap into these like mad to cope with my crazy self on these days. Exercise is a must. Laughing until I cry. Just Dance 4 with your kids will accomplish these both at the same time! Hugs. Naps. Good food. Counting your blessings. Connecting with trusted friends. All natural God given highs. He knew we’d need them.

After all is said and done, I’m always amazed when the new day dawns how differently I see things. Makes me wonder what in the world I was all distraught over. The sun came out. It’s a new day and I’m feeling good. Sure glad I didn’t punch anyone in the face!

Freely Give

So I have to admit, I’m not a huge fan of New Years resolutions. 

Not because they are not a good idea. I love the possibility of a fresh start, a clean slate, a new habit yielding a new and improved you. 

I don’t like them because they are not effective. 

I mean usually. For me. 

And the expectation to come up with one that I know I can keep, let alone one that can really change me? 

Well, lets just say I have a bad track record with New Years resolutions. 

Last year I sensed it was time for a new approach. Rather that my typical attempt to start the new year off with a list of things I don’t like about myself and my feeble attempts to tackle them (stop eating sugar, exercise more, get more organized), I mustered up the courage to ask God a question.

“How can I look more like You?”

 I got a very personal answer. Say yes to Me. 

Sure the general answer is true for all of us who are following after Christ, but the specific answer looks different in the nitty gritty fingerprints our individual lives. My Year of the Yes took me many places, some seen, witnessed and shared by so many. Some were quiet adventures, triumphs of my heart that are mine alone to savor. I can attest to saying yes to God yielded some long awaited peace, but also reeked some havoc that I didn’t see coming. And though I didn’t always get it right, this saying yes to God took me to deep places with my Jesus. Secret places that I have grown to love. 

So in this wake of my Year of the yes, looking to build on its sturdy foundation, I again come to God with my question, “How can I look more like You?” 

In this year, this season, my specific and special set of circumstances? 

It’s a slow answer, but once I discern it, there is no doubt in my mind it’s spoken straight from my Father’s heart to mine. 

Freely give. 

Freely give love like I give it. Freely give grace like Me. Freely forgive even when you don’t think its deserved. Freely give of yourself to others. Your gifts, your talents, your full self. 

It sounds easy if you're God. It sounds impossible if you're me. 

Because to accomplish this feat, I have to stop doing some things. 

I have to stop trying to figure out who is going to hurt me. Stop deciding to love only the people I have tested and tried. I have to stop trying to please people and have people please me in order to win their love. I have to stop trying to fix things, myself included.  I have to cease making everything about me and quit taking things so personal. 

And therein lies my first lesson in freely giving. In order to freely give, I must first freely receive from God. His grace, love, forgiveness. His peace. His perspective. 

Freely receiving is the key that frees me from my self imposed prison of holding back, unlocking me to freely give as God has designed me to do.   

And also I need to learn to freely receive what others would give me. Sometimes this is the bigger hurdle for me. 

As I write this, I have a precious friend and sister in Christ who, at any moment, is going to leave this world and be with Jesus. Her life is this principle personified.  She freely receives and freely gives. I and so many others have been the blessed receiptants of her love and, consequently, God’s love through her. I know when my life is coming to an end, mulling around in my head will be these questions: Did I give it all I had? Did I hold myself back? Did I withhold love when I should have just went out there with guns blazing and loved with reckless abandonment? 

Freely give. Give it all. All your life. All your love. Stop holding back because of fear. Stop evaluating if it’s good enough. If your enough. If it will be returned. Just give it.

Freely.

"What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?" Romans 8:31-32

Dedicated to Kristin Sauder