Runs with ribbons streaming

 Ready to dance?

This song played on repeat in my head and heart on the anniversary my dad died: I'm Free by The Soup Dragons. I played it several times this week and danced (and suddenly discovering, I actually like dancing). It is so nice to be free of so many thoughts and attitudes that held me back.

This one played in the grocery store and if I'd had ribbons in my hand, trailing like wind and motion behind me, I would have run through the aisles dancing, leaping, spinning and twirling--Coldplay: When I Ruled the World. Grab your ribbons. Run. Leap. Dance.

And this one gives me rich layers of feeling, the choir from deleted scenes from Harry Potter. In Noctem. If enneagram 4 had a song list, this would be in it.

Lanie and I went to Kohls today and there was a U2 song playing that I've heard in stores before, but I forgot the name, otherwise I'd link it. I said to her, "This makes me want to run with ribbons (too)." 

"Mom, don't," she said. 

I made a slight motion to the music with my hand.

"Mom. No."

I laughed. 

And still counting (14,926-14,987)

 a worldwide celebration of a new year, a surge of hope and optimism--even if nothing changes, new perspective, living out a value by setting a boundary, having it received with acceptance and grace from a loving friend

day one run done, a new goal planner, new goals, new writers on the blog, persistence in the search

Dave--who loves Bible reading a lot too, a library run with Lanie, a stop at the coffee shop and 2.5 pounds ground, fires in the wood stoves, a long weekend with Shane

Irish cream to gift to a neighbor, a good book stack for the new year, a month's lull before Lanie's college classes kick in again, warm blankets, getting back to school at home

cookbooks, big girl pants, faith walks, online classes, apps

winter running, a balaclava, my favorite running Goodrs, the new headphones that stay put when I run, francoton

Lanie telling me to watch the sunrise, sewing projects, photo projects, the creative surge, the smoothie lunch fast

blackberries and blueberries in January, a good root touch up, jumping rope, read alouds on the couch, a fire heating the school room

for Sharon--who asked me if I wanted to hike, new pursuits, hot buttery garlic bread, food in the fridge, popcorn snacks

a pre-snow glove run, driving time with Lanie, faux leather pants, Valentine gifts ordered and in the mail, a wine run

a coffee run, that Dave remembers what I ordered last time and asked how I liked it (it was a whiskey blend, roasted to be alcohol free and smelled amazing--I had not tried it yet, so I made it when we got home), two bags of coffee, meeting Benedict, Dave praying over all of us in his coffee shop, the smell of coffee all the ride home and how Shane commented on how good it smelled the second I got seated

whiskey coffee with cream and sugar, a friend like Dave, the Harry Potter soundtrack, the holiday hustle feel of a snow forecast, full parking lots

but truly--seeing Dave and connecting with people--this is the life

(*Dave was a pastor at a church we used to attend. We became friends through that and writing together on 66 Books. He ended up pastoring at another church, but we stayed in touch through social media. I ran into him at the UPS Store a few days after my dad died, and he embraced me when I told him the news. He was very much a father figure when a daughter needed a hug. I will never forget the divine timing of our meeting--I had been looking for a notary and went several places before I went to that store, which originally was going to be my first stop. Dave was telling me how he'd had to return home because he forgot something, which enabled him to be there when I walked in. But honestly, I would have encountered him if I had made that my first stop. God's timing in everything. Thankful for Dave.)

 

Only gratitude

What I wish I could say to her if I could go back in time. I'd hold her close, look her fiercely in the eyes, and say, "There are worse things than your father dying." 

Mourning a fantasy over accepting a reality. Not taking care of yourself to care for others who care nothing for you or your well being. Losing precious time in your life with the living to stress, worry, anxiety, and grief. Churning memories that brought pain. Being trapped inside an emotional torment, for years. Finding ways to believe a lie. That's for starters. 

But I would also say, "This? It's nothing compared to what you gain. What you learn. How you live. How you finish. You will take care of yourself. You will define your values and champion them. You will take whatever steps necessary to care for your health and family, even if it means giving up on the fantasy that a sister is a friend for life, or that friends could be sisters. You will stop putting yourself in harm's way spiritually, physically, and emotionally. You will read what you want to read. Think what you want to think. Believe what you want to believe. Wear what you want to wear. And you will run. Four years from now, this grief will be a memory and a gift."

The best gift. 

Today, I wrote for 66 Books, hanging out in what was always a hard story--Joseph, his brothers, his father's death and blessing. I didn't feel bitter that my father didn't even leave me a verbal blessing, because today, God underscored the only blessing that ever mattered: His.

I wrote. I ran. I worshiped on the walk. I took Lanie for a driving lesson. I came home and made a delicious pot of Italian Wedding Soup after plans for an afternoon hike got postponed from the wicked cold winds. I started a fire. I sat in my home, with my children, my dogs, and my cats. I am thankful for my marriage, my home, my pursuits. I am thankful for freedom in Christ and freedom from legalism, people pleasing, hoop jumping, self denying, dysfunction tolerating, guilt wearing. I am thankful for a God-blessed fire in my heart that propels me forward. Oh, freedom.

 

There is no sadness today. Only gratitude. 

Day story

 January 2021

Outside my window, I wait for a sunrise to go run. I love winter running. I love winter. I love breaking a sweat in freezing temperatures. I love that all those fair weather people are at home watching me slay it. 

And I quote. Read a great quote today, "Too many people I meet believe that you can sit in a chair and be given motivation. With exercise and fitness, you get it by doing. The mental qualities you need are all linked like a chain. If you give exercise a try and see results, even if it’s as simple as feeling good that you get out the door, you’ll become motivated to repeat the exercise. Seeing results is inspiring.” ~Grete Waitz

Giving thanks for God's sovereignty. For his peace. For his provision. For his higher ways. 

In the school room, we are enjoying literature. Our oversight is offering another video contest and Erin and I are having so much fun brainstorming what that could look like.

From the kitchen, this month I've been doing smoothies for lunch (also as part of a fasting/prayer discipline with another church). That green smoothie we all choked on back in December has become a new favorite of mine. I have it weekly. I think I might stick with this. It's such an easy way to get a lot of veggies and protein in my body, and they have turned out to be really filling.

Je suis ... listening to French pop on the walk portions of my workout. Francoton sets a great pace. I love the distinction of French music. I have new favorites. And I actually feel pretty pumped up post run. This month I've added in jump rope. It's crazy delightful. I am going to add in some jump steps too, for fun. Just got my boxing gloves yesterday. They are much bigger than I anticipated, but the added protection feels really good and makes me want to hit harder.

I don't want to forget dreaming big. Sparkle. All the things that kept surprising him once upon a time. I sometimes feel like I traded parts of myself to fit into roles other people wanted of me. This year, I am focusing on re-imagining myself, and it is wildly freeing--to give myself permission to be myself.

I am reading: Square One by Dirk Vlieks, Forgiving What You Can't Forget by Lysa Terkeurst, The Power of Consistency by Weldon Long, The Next Right Thing by Emily Freeman. 

Around the house, going through my own clothes to pack up things I don't love and don't wear. I own mostly yoga/running clothes now. I want to make room for some new punkier pieces. Ruth is turning three this weekend. She has been both a disruption and a delight in our lives. Mostly a delight. Nella is aging and has been on a noticeable decline. It's hard to watch. She still seems happy and pain free, but she is losing weight quickly, sleeping a lot, confused and losing her balance.

On the letter board: "Own it." Spoken by Lucy Gray Baird. That scene, but those words, all of it left such an impression. It's on the letter board this week. I'm engraving it on my heart too.

I value reliability. 

A view of my favorite things (interestingly, I don't have a lot of photos this month from around here. It's mostly screenshots of things I want to return to, and a lot of prep stuff for 66 Books):

Playing around in stories

working on contributor bios

setting February goals--so pumped

freedom

you can see the purge piles reflected in my sunglasses

 

At the table, I have spent early mornings at the school table working on 66 Books. I have a lot of new writers this year, and returning favorites. It's so energizing to reach out to someone and find that they had been praying for an opportunity, that God would bring our lives together at this juncture.  I am focusing a lot more on that blog and the writers this year. I have signed up for some web tutorials and enrolled with LightRoom. I'm really excited to be learning and pressing on to new things.

Week one

December was square one for me of starting back at the beginning and building my base. Two miles running, two miles walking. January I stepped up to the initiation of three-mile-Mondays and twos for the rest of the runs, until I add another three into the mix. I am committed to the journey and the destination. I am in it for the rest of my life.

There's a delightful satisfaction when the temps are in the 20s and I'm the only person out there billowing breath into the cold in a light jacket and no gloves because I'm already breaking a sweat. It feels empowering. I have a song I start at the beginning of my walk segment to set a good cadence (Todrick's clean version of "Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels"). And then I'll transition to a podcast. 

One week, I chose a podcast from a sometimes favorite. I had backed off her stuff because her episodes really just became one long promo for her books, her private/paid clubs or her offsprings' books. (That is something that's always bugged me about Christian writers: profit. And that's the heart of why I never advertise or charge for anything on 66 Books--because I want everyone to have access to life change, not just the ones who want to get on a payment plan.) But this one episode seemed like it held promise, and I used my skip feature to blow past her promos. 

In one breath, she called (us) warriors and overcomers. In the next breath, she reminded us how weak we are and used soothing words that let all the air out of a sail to just lull in inability, like a child curling into the armpit of a parent to be coddled and cooed. When I was in post-run endorphin mode, this language stirred up a lot of resistance in me. And I wondered how many women out there default to weakness because of messages like this? Her voice so motherly, gentle and soothing, it was like a spell being cast, and who would want to leave that womb of words?

Me, in all my imperfections and, yes, weaknesses: I don't need to be reminded of how I will always fall short and then be told to embrace it proudly. I want to be reminded of who I am (in Christ!), daughter, overcomer, capable, equipped. I want to be encouraged to excellence, discipline, and steadfastness. When I fall, it's truly wonderful to have a place to nestle and get loved, but I don't want to lose opportunity by staying there. If I'm running a race, even if I stumble, I want to get back up, get in there, and finish.  I want someone telling me, "Yeah. That was hard. Tell me about how that hurt. But get back in there or your muscles are going to lock up." 

Paul likens us to athletes in training. (She) would have us benched in the armpit, dosed in tea and getting fat on coos and comforting caresses until we close our eyes like a satiated toddler too tired to finish. I am not a toddler. 

***

Like any day in winter, it was cold in the school room. I asked Erin to start a fire. I truly do forget what I had griped about, but as she passed by me, she called out theatrically, "Week one!" 

I stopped in my tracks to find context. 

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Remember, like in the podcast? You are weak, weak one." She said with dramatic emphasis and laughed. And I laughed, and shrugged off my attitude and got back in the race.

Be careful what someone's good intentions (compassion, understanding, tenderness) do to your training. Also, don't let anyone hand you (figurative or literal) chocolate when they should be offering a hand to get you back on your feet.

 (FTR: I'm going for Linda Hamilton's look, only with a sports bra under my tank. Already pinning steampunk/military looks.)

And still counting (14,866-14,925)

family hikes, hikes with friends, homemade light stick version of tag in the yard with a watering can port key, mild days, fire days 

 Christmas cards in the mail, lights up inside the house, Christmas music ("Joy" by MercyMe is a favorite this year), getting clear on values, championing values, a three-day gig for Lanie

a church of marble, stained glass from Germany, tiles from Italy, the candles, the baby grand piano that created a rich sound

glimpses of sunrises, running progress, her 14th birthday to plan, a chocolate dome cake from Wegmans, sparklers instead of candles (that was such a delight!)

big bowls of popcorn, a movie night sleepover with Vivi and Lanie, apple cider donuts, Erin's changed demeanor, a balloon bouquet

texts with Christy, talks with Jenne, issues that rub wrong and spark deeper reflection, facing the very human and imperfect aspects of my heart, new running shoes

an application in process, time with Lanie, the question by Hal Elrod that helped me reframe ("How can I show up today [for myself, family, friend, job] in a way at [I, we, they] can experience the most meaning [day, time together, activity, task, etc]?"), a clear driveway, a Christmas song piano duet with Erin and all the laughter of it

Nidaros Cathedral and St Olav who brought Christianity to Norway a thousand years ago, Your long-term vision, Your perfect plan, Your sovereignty, peace

a big snowfall, Ruth running free in the yard, the next day ice covered branches, sunshine, snow boots

the writers on 66 Books, movie watching with the kids, a winter break for Lanie, books to read, blankets

heat, food in the fridge, coffee, warm clothes, gloves

the Christmas colored hat Nora gifted me years ago, good memories, time together, 4-day weekends, hunkering down on the blog for a next year through the reading plan

That one word

Every year for more than ten years, I have picked a focus word for the year--or rather, that word comes to find me and affixes itself in my consciousness. A repeating word echoed through 2020 as part of what I value(d): 

Integrity.

Merriam-Webster will tell you:

1 : firm adherence to a code of especially moral or artistic values : incorruptibility

2 : an unimpaired condition : soundness

3 : the quality or state of being complete or undivided : completeness

 

When I think of the word integrity, I envision strength, focus, completion. I think of character traits like trustworthy, honest, reliable. Unshakable.

 

Last year, I looked at things I valued and examined my own thoughts and actions to see if they were in true alignment. Sometimes they weren't, and that was a good lesson to strengthen or discard attitudes, beliefs, and actions in my life. 

I was talking to a friend about attraction--one friend attracts men like a magnet without even trying, wherever she goes, even to the point of having to get a restraining order against one of them. If she's at the grocery store, an employee will stop what he's doing to nearly literally walk her through her shopping list. I told her, "That never happens to me!" Haha. 

I noticed a trend in some of my relationships of unreliability: empty promises offered never meant to follow through ("Let's get coffee!"); last-minute cancellations (one friend cancelled five minutes before she was supposed to arrive, after I had adjusted my own plans to accommodate her and had prepared a meal); consistent lateness that kept me waiting or took from time slated for other activities. When time together is my love language, it felt like a message--I just didn't matter. 

My friend and I put this attraction concept on hold for another time so we could mull it over. But it did make me consider my own personal integrity. 

 

Do I champion what I value?

Do I support my beliefs?

Am I reliable?

Do I follow through?

And to be honest, follow through is sometimes tricky for me. Sometimes it's because a task requires an emotional processing that drains me. Sometimes a task is outside of my skill set and intimidates me. Also, sometimes my commitments conflict--last year I learned that my family didn't want to do (an event) I wanted to do and it conflicted with pleasing friends, my own heart's desire, and honoring my family. I followed through on honoring my family's wishes, at cost to my heart, and letting friends down (I couldn't muster the words or the courage to give the real why).

I've got a book stack readied for January. A new goal page open and new goals for 2021. On NYE I was fired up to run. I wish I could have said the same today (Ruth and Nella both wanted to go out at 3:30a this morning, after I tried to stay up till midnight last night. Everything else got way behind schedule, coffee at 7a, running at 9:30a. I don't like being out that late in the morning, but I got it done.). But I do feel a universal hope and optimism for the coming year. Not even because I think things will drastically change, but that I will.