Another one bites the dust

Many things in life really don't last forever.

Like ankle bracelets.

My beloved treasure lived on my ankle since the summer of 2008. I chaperoned a beach trip for the middle schoolers at my church, and a few of the girls and I bought anklets to commemorate the trip. As you may have noticed, I get attached to things pretty easily, and this anklet was no exception. There was originally a dolphin charm that was on it, but that poor fella had to make a quick exit, because it annoyed the heck out of me when I was running. Other than that, though, that piece of intertwined yarn jewelry was nothing but awesome.

Goodbye to you.

About a week ago, I noticed my anklet was beginning to thin out at one part, and I feared that nothing but the worst was in store for this darling adornment. Unfortunately, I was correct.

It's not always fun to be right.

Sure enough, after my run the other morning, I took off my sock and felt a rip. Then, I heard something softly hit the ground, and I knew the disaster was a finality. It took all of the courage I could muster to look down and face the sad truth: my precious anklet was no more.

These tangible things we have in life will not last. They are all just temporary pleasantries that stay with us for a bit and then leave us forever. It's sad sometimes, but it's simply reality.

The good news is that Christ is not like that at all. He's forever. He won't leave us, and He sure won't fall apart like a cheap, worthless anklet. It's so amazing that we have someone who cares so deeply about us. While my ankle bracelet left me standing in my laundry room with a frown on my face and a piece of my heart missing, Jesus won't. In fact, He will even be there to comfort us when the things or people of this world leave us in brokenness.

It was a good three years with that anklet, but they were nothing like the forever I have with my main Man.

Those dreaded moments

Even positive experiences in life can produce anxiety.

And it's times like these that become dreaded moments, not necessarily because you are afraid or don't want to do what you are about to do, but because taking an action requires stepping out of your comfort zone. And not many people are fans of that.

It's that moment when your alarm goes off, and you know you need to get up and get moving, but the thought of removing the covers is far too unappealing. You've entered the dreaded "I'm so warm and never want to leave my bed" moment. But your day can't get started until you first get out of your bed. The covers have to come off in order for that to happen, though.

It's that moment when you're on the platform at the public pool, and you look down at the water below. You know you are going to have a blast once you make it in there, but you first have to make that leap. You've entered the dreaded "I don't wanna jump! I don't wanna jump! I don't wanna jump!" moment. But the only way to join the fun below is to take the plunge.

It was cold and windy, and we had a dreaded moment of getting out of the car.

It's that moment when you're meeting your group to go running when it's 34 degrees outside, and you're sitting in your car with the heat on until the last possible minute. You know that once you get going, you will warm up and have a great run , but you really don't want to have to experience the cold—even for a split second—when you first take off the extra layers you're wearing. You've entered the dreaded "Can't I just stay in my warm car, turn around, drive home and go back to bed??!" moment. You want and need to get that run in, though, and that sure won't happen while you stay in your front seat jamming out to Taylor Swift.

It's that moment when you have to take liquid cough medicine, but you can't find the strength to lift the little cup to your lips. You know that it will help make you feel better, but you just don't think you can tolerate the horrid substance dancing on your taste buds. You've entered the "I think I will still be able to taste this even though I'm holding my nose" moment. But the only way to avoid staying up half of the night is to defeat the moment and swallow the fake cherry flavor.

There are countless other examples of those moments that we have to overcome in order for good things to happen. In fact, every single time I race, I get horrible pre-race anxiety. It lasts actually until the moment the gun goes off or horn sounds (or whatever starting device is used). I dread that moment and even have thoughts sometimes about running in the complete opposite direction in order to avoid that one second where the race begins. But, once it starts, I'm fine and have complete focus on running the best race I possibly can.

Life is full of moments where we have to overcome anxieties that make us hesitant about doing things we either need to do or want to do. But, there are so many positives that can come if we can just get through these instances. God has big plans, but we have to be willing to trust Him, even when we are taken out of our comfort zones.

I mean, if good can come from suffering through some bad-tasting cough syrup for a few seconds, then imagine the amazing things that can happen if you just take a leap of faith every once in a while.

Running with coyotes

There are moments in life when you simply have to embrace the bizarre.

I had one of those moments today.

I go running really early in the morning, and it's not unusual to see a coyote or two in these before-the-sun-rises adventures. I've never had a problem with them (again, I only fear one thing in life, and it turns out coyotes actually hunt those hoppers), and they usually just run in the opposite direction, anyway. According to the Lake County Forest Preserve, coyotes don't pose much of a threat to humans and have a natural fear of people.

But not all of them.

I was running through a residential neighborhood this morning, and I spotted a coyote up ahead in the middle of the street. I expected him (for the sake of simplicity, we will refer to it as a male) to dart out of my sight before I got anywhere near him. But he didn't. In fact, it's almost as if he was waiting for me—just watching until I reached him.

And then, it happened.

I ran with a coyote.

He started running right beside me, and I wasn't quite sure what to do. Like I said, I had never been intimidated by coyotes, but I had also never had one this close to me and matching my pace. According to National Geographic, coyotes can run up to 40 miles per hour, so he was clearly running intentionally slower than his capabilities.

I pray a lot when I run, so in this moment I started asking God to protect me during this time. I hoped this wasn't some rabid animal that was some rare breed of evil that had an affinity to attack humans. And I honestly didn't want him to run the entire way home with me, because I really can't handle the responsibility of a pet right now—especially a coyote.

Before I could process another thought, a car turned the corner onto the street and startled my running buddy, sending him like a flash into the dark and out of my vision forever. I found this almost weirder than the coyote running with me, because I have never seen a car on this street. Ever. And I run this course every week.

While the coyote was running next to me, there were so many questions and uncertainties in my mind. While I had always heard coyotes weren't likely to harm people, I began to doubt it slightly. After all, if they were truly afraid of humans, then why was one within inches of my legs? One thing I knew for certain was that I didn't want to let some wild dog ruin my run or even alter my course.

Sometimes in life, we are going to encounter coyotes. People and situations are going to come into our lives unexpectedly and make us have doubts and hesitations. But the important thing to remember is simply to trust God and His perfect plan and not let those coyotes change our paths.

Just keep your focus, and He will guide you—even if He has to send a car to bail you out.

Never grow up

Sometimes I really don't want to grow up.

And, in some areas of life, I think we never should.

A few weeks ago, I was telling some people how excited I was about an upcoming roller-skating party. "What are you, 8?" was a question one of them asked me. I kindly reminded her that I am indeed 27—and some 27-year-old women enjoy spending their Saturday nights at the roller rink.

And you know what? It was an absolute blast! I skated forward; I skated backward; I attempted (and was successful) turns; I sang and danced while on my skates; I took part in the rink races; I did the Hokey Pokey; and I got to spend quality time with some dear friends. There's no denying that it was a great night.

Flashback to elementary!

I got a similar reaction to someone yesterday when I mentioned I was going ice skating that night. And, let's just say this wasn't the first time it was pointed out that I take part in childish activities. I'm OK with that.

Ice skating was awesome, too! I skated forward (no backward this time); I sang and danced while on ice; I mocked speed skaters with the one-hand-behind-the-back posture; and I let my best friend skate fast toward me, take my hands, and then spin me around and around—and we didn't even fall. Ice skating was a bit more challenging than roller skating, but at least I wasn't as cold as I thought I would be.

No, skating might not be the most mature activity to do on the weekends, but the truth is that it is good, clean fun. And, just like little kids do, you can't help but laugh at your friends when they bust it and take some tumbles to the floor (before you make sure they are OK, of course).

Obviously there are areas of life where we really do have to gain some maturity and higher levels of responsibility, but there are also multiple aspects of life in which we can learn from children. One is obviously the night life (including early bedtimes), and another is faith.

Faith like a child.

It's innocent and believing and doesn't need to see to believe. "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). Kids have never actually seen reindeer on their rooftops or Santa coming down their chimneys, but they have the expectation every year and believe he will visit them; they've never seen a little fairy fly in their rooms and take teeth from under their pillows, but they expect it will happen and that there will be money in place of the teeth in the morning; they've never seen the footprints of Jesus in the mud beside them, but they believe He is with them every step of the way and expect Him to help them whenever they need.They don't try to fix everything themselves—they leave it in His hands, instead.

For some reason, though, it seems like the older we get the more we think we have control of everything. Reality check: we don't. This is another area where we need to act like kids—let go, and let someone else take care of it. Just like when kids get hurt or lost or confused and depend on their parents to save them, we can always depend on our Father to be there with us and help us through whatever it is we are facing. We just need faith.

Faith like a child.

Life is way too short to act like a grownup all of the time. Dance when you want; sing out loud at the top of your lungs; skate; run through the sprinklers in your work clothes; splash in some puddles; eat a snow cone; believe.

Just don't ever grow up completely.

Lost and found

Getting lost produces some of the most frustrating feelings.

Recently, I got turned around when I was out on a run. I was in a different area than usual, it was dark, and I wasn't exactly willing to slow down to try to find my way. Instead, I just kept running, hoping that streets would eventually connect to where I thought they would. Needless to say, I ended up going a bit farther than I had originally planned that morning.


I remember when I first started driving that I got lost quite a bit. There were moments of going the wrong way on one-way streets, traveling north when I should have been going south, and ending up in cities I never even knew existed. Each time this happened, I called my dad. He's insanely good with directions, and it seems like he can always help me navigate my way back to the right way, even when he isn't extremely familiar with the area in which I some how ended up in that moment.

Sometimes you just don't know where to go.

The funny thing is that I always think I know where I'm going. I tell myself I'm taking the right exit or that the road I need is just up ahead, and I keep going even when I realize that I likely took a wrong turn somewhere along the way. I always reach a breaking point, though, where I know I need to get out my phone and call my dad. There have been times when I have even stopped at gas stations or other places first to ask locals for directions, but it usually only makes sense when I call Skipper.


It's really humbling to have to call and ask for help when I'm lost. Sometimes I feel as if it's something my dad expects will happen—that I won't be able to find where I'm going and will have to call on him once again. I always feel like he's going to be disappointed in me for not being able to stay on the right path, but that's not the case. In fact, I think he enjoys being able to get me going in the right direction again.


It's quite obvious that this is often how things go in my life outside of driving and running. When I take a wrong turn or lose my way, my first instinct is to try to find my way on my own. I think I know exactly what I'm doing or where I'm going, and then it becomes evident that I need help. Lost and frustrated, I call on my Father to come and rescue me—I depend on Him to be able to get me back on the right path and going toward where I need to be going.


Similarly to admitting I'm lost on the roads, it's humbling to have to admit that I'm lost in life. Although I know that God is always there to set my path straight, for some reason I feel the need to seek it out myself. Sometimes I even ask others for help first rather than call on the One who really knows what the best way to go is. But things truly only make sense when I cry out to Him.


It's not always clear where we are going on the maps of our lives, but one thing is for certain: we have the best Cartographer possible. Just trust Him. He's more reliable than GPS. Or Siri.

Gloves are not for your feet

Beauty can be found in the most unlikely places.

Over the weekend, I ran a half marathon in not-so-lovely conditions. The temperatures were in the 40s, which normally would be great racing weather. The problem was that it was raining—pouring at some points—and the precipitation was obviously quite chilly, to say the least. Bottom line: outside=misery.

Now, imagine running 13.1 or (gasp!) 26.2 miles in this. Yes, that's what the crazies in Dallas were doing Sunday morning. But, you know what people I think are even more insane? The volunteers and spectators. It takes a special kind of person to stand out in those horrid conditions and not be moving around much. Did I mention you're getting soaked to the bone while you're out there?

I am seriously beyond thankful to everyone who was out there at the water and aid stations, serving as course guides, handing out medals at the finish (such as my dear friend Claudia), or doing countless other things to serve all of the runners who were out there Sunday morning. I can't say I would have been so willing to sacrifice extra sleep and being wrapped in warm blankets for a bunch of people I likely didn't know. But these are people with golden hearts full of warmth.

I LOVE my family. Seriously.

I am also particularly thankful for my family. My precious parents—who are there for me every single time I step on the starting line—were of course present. The Skipper wore his awesome bright orange poncho, while my mom was in her huge red Eskimo jacket with an umbrella to block the rain. Then there was my amazing sister (who HATES early mornings, by the way), with her big jacket and umbrella, as well. (Side note, her hair looked absolutely incredible for being out in humid, gross conditions. Diva.) My older brother even showed up, though I didn't see him until after I finished. I almost started crying. (Hey, it was an emotional moment, and I said almost.)

If that weren't enough for them simply to be there cheering for me in some of the worst weather possible, they showed me even more love after I finished.

As soon as I crossed the line, precious Claudia gave me a huge hug. I was so cold and out-of-sorts at that point, that I honestly didn't want her to let go. I didn't want to be cold, and I didn't want to fall down. When I finally started walking toward my family at the fence, I couldn't stop shaking. I stood there a few moments talking with them, and my whole body was out of control. My sister—gotta love her—offered me her umbrella and tried to cover me with it. I was already sopping wet, so this really wouldn't have helped much. My friend Steve (who ran an incredible race, as usual) said we should go into a building near us so we could warm up.

My mom and sister took me to the restroom and started helping me put on some dry clothes, both of them offering to give me some of their layers, because I didn't have much in my backpack. (I left all of my extra layers in my car, thinking I would actually have the energy to go back out there. Negative.) While I was changing in the stall, I was so cold and shaky, and I think I mentioned something about feeling like I was going to pass out. Immediately, Stephanie started trying to break the door down. I love that girl.

I think I kicked myself during the race...

When I finally came out and was sitting on the floor, my mom gave me some gloves and told me to try to put them on my feet, which by now were completely purple. Have you ever tried to put gloves on your feet? I don't recommend it. They likely won't fit. My sister and I laughed, first at our mom's ridiculous suggestion, then again as we actually attempted to fit the thumb spot on my big toe. Instead, my giving mom took off her own socks and covered my feet in them.

Even though Sunday's weather was some of the ugliest stuff we've seen in the area lately, I honestly thought it was one of the most beautiful days ever. So many of my friends got PRs in either the half or the full (Shaheen, GQ, Moby, Carolyn and Jen with her 2:57 full—who does that??!), I ran my best race, and my entire family was there for me.

It is amazing how God can work wonders through different people and events in our lives. While I was racing, at about mile 10 or so (if I'm off, who really cares?), it started pouring harder, and I felt like it was getting colder. I glanced at a woman directly ahead of me who was directing participants to make the next turn, and I couldn't help but praise Jesus for her. I have no idea who she is, but I know that I am truly thankful for her. She sacrificed her Sunday morning to stand in the cold rain and make sure that I knew where to turn.

Sunday morning was real proof that you can find love and peace in the midst of chaos and fear.