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the empty spot at the table

I’ve written about it before, the dull ache that grips my heart right before Thanksgiving and doesn’t let up until January 1. There’s something about the holidays that accentuates grief and loss.

Some years are better than others. Ramona Glory’s presence ushers in profound joy, but even little sweet pea can’t fill the empty place at the table.

And she wasn’t meant to . . .

I’ve come to embrace the ache as a gift; to see the empty spot as a reminder that we are truly just pilgrims passing through. Jonah’s place will remain vacant until we are all gathered together at the Lamb’s wedding feast.

My heart goes out to those who will face those empty places for the first time this year. The gatherings, the traditions, the music, the gifts . . . will all feel like nails in the coffin of the loved ones lost. The wild grief eventually subsides, the weeping stops . . . but the ache will remain until our pilgrimage ends.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” Rev. 21:4

New blog address

I am moving this blog to Wordpress.com. If you enjoy my blog, you can follow me there.

The address is: www.sparrowtracks.wordpress.com

See you there!

Shawn

tailwind

I ran for about 20 minutes straight today and I’m guessing I did about 2.75 miles. My foot was still a little tender from the rock bruise (note to self: don’t run on gravel trails), but I decided to go for it. If it wasn’t a good idea to run on a bruised foot, I’m sure my body will let me know . . .

Anyway, I’m certain I didn’t break any speed records, but I did complete my three mile loop in under 30 minutes. My injured foot whimpered a bit but quieted down when I altered my stride. I huffed and puffed to the halfway mark, not enjoying my run and looking forward to an iced latte when the ordeal was over.

But that all changed when HE blew past me!

He was probably a high school student out training for some sport. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone run like this kid did. He wasn’t wearing vibrams, but he ran with the distinct barefoot stride–landing on the balls of his feet, kicking his heels back, spine straight and head held high. The kid made running look effortless–and like a lot of fun!

As if I’d been caught in his tailwind, I picked up my pace. I was so inspired by his joy-in-motion that I forgot about my aching foot and energy drain. In fact, i ran another mile–mostly uphill–because of the runner’s shining example.

But what happened next was even more amazing than my own renewed vigor–I saw the kid sprint past an older gentleman who was out for his morning stroll. As the young man sped ahead, I watched the old guy kick up his heels and actually jog for a few yards! I tell you, there was something contagious about the way that boy ran!

And he had no idea the way he was impacting those around him. This kid was just doing was God obviously created him to do–run! And he encouraged me–and the old man–and who knows how many others–that we could do it, too!

Wouldn’t it be sweet if that happened as we joyfully run the race God has set before us?

Maybe people who were tired and crippled and discouraged could get caught in our “tailwinds” and be inspired to keep on keeping on . . .

cloud of witnesses

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1

I often ponder this verse as I'm plodding along. The part about perseverance has been particularly helpful, encouraging me to keep on keeping on--both with my running and my pursuit of Christ.

The other day, though, I tried to envision the great cloud of witnesses who were cheering me on. It tickled me to picture my mom (who died when I was 19), seated on some bleacher-shaped cloud, rooting wildly for me. I recall my mom being the most avid K State Wildcat fan on the planet--she always took a cowbell to the games and knew how to use it!

Heaven help the person sitting next to her if there are cowbells in eternity!

The “witness” I’ve thought about most, however, is my friend Debbie Baker. Even though she was single, Debbie was the best friend a young mom could have. She was funny, smart and usually available to hang out with me when I needed a break from my babies. Debbie became the keeper of my sanity.

One day, Debbie decided that I needed to take up jogging. I can’t recall why–maybe I was struggling with a bit of post-partum depression . . . or whining about my extra poundage. She promised to come over several times a week to run with me–so I unenthusiastically agreed.

We ran for weeks–maybe even months–and I hated every minute of it. I could eventually run for two miles without collapsing, but jogging always wiped me out (I found out later that I was severely anemic at that time). Debbie was a great encourager–and we had sweet times of fellowship as we ran–but it soon became apparent to both of us that jogging wasn’t my thing.

Debbie always found ways to encourage me, however (she may have even saved my life on one occasion, but that’s another story). I was heart-broken when her life ended tragically in 1988. Deb truly left a void in my life that has yet to be filled.

But I know she's a part of that great cloud of witnesses, not just sitting in the bleachers--but waiting for me at the finish line.

cloud of witnesses

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1

I often ponder this verse as I'm plodding along. The part about perseverance has been particularly helpful, encouraging me to keep on keeping on--both with my running and my pursuit of Christ.

The other day, though, I tried to envision the great cloud of witnesses who were cheering me on. It tickled me to picture my mom (who died when I was 19), seated on some bleacher-shaped cloud, rooting wildly for me. I recall my mom being the most avid K State Wildcat fan on the planet--she always took a cowbell to the games and knew how to use it!

Heaven help the person sitting next to her if there are cowbells in eternity!

The “witness” I’ve thought about most, however, is my friend Debbie Baker. Even though she was single, Debbie was the best friend a young mom could have. She was funny, smart and usually available to hang out with me when I needed a break from my babies. Debbie became the keeper of my sanity.

One day, Debbie decided that I needed to take up jogging. I can’t recall why–maybe I was struggling with a bit of post-partum depression . . . or whining about my extra poundage. She promised to come over several times a week to run with me–so I unenthusiastically agreed.

We ran for weeks–maybe even months–and I hated every minute of it. I could eventually run for two miles without collapsing, but jogging always wiped me out (I found out later that I was severely anemic at that time). Debbie was a great encourager–and we had sweet times of fellowship as we ran–but it soon became apparent to both of us that jogging wasn’t my thing.

Debbie always found ways to encourage me, however (she may have even saved my life on one occasion, but that’s another story). I was heart-broken when her life ended tragically in 1988. Deb truly left a void in my life that has yet to be filled.

But I know she's a part of that great cloud of witnesses, not just sitting in the bleachers--but waiting for me at the finish line.

taurine--my new best friend!

Every so often, I run across a supplement or herb that positively impacts my life. Last year, I discovered l-theanine (or nature’s xanax, as I like to call it). I am still taking it to reduce anxiety–with blissful results!

This year, I stumbled upon taurine. Like l-theanine, taurine is an amino acid, produced by our bodies. Taurine deficiency has been linked to migraines, insomnia, depression and even autism! People who have MSG sensitivities are usually low in taurine–which is why I started taking the supplement.

After about a month of daily usage (1000 mg.), I am almost reaction-free to MSG. I still try to avoid the toxic substance, but when eating out or dining with friends, I’ve been able to eat what’s put in front of me without doubling up in pain a few hours later! The relief has been amazing!

I didn’t even think about using taurine for insomnia, but I find it interesting that I’ve slept (without ambien) for the past two weeks. Part of it may come from the fact that my stomach doesn’t hurt all night. At any rate, the sleep and lack of digestive issues have been great blessings!

I also find it interesting that athletes use taurine to increase strength and endurance. It definitely can’t hurt in the running department!

(Running update: I feel stronger every day and even convinced Greg to jog with me to the garden this a.m.! I am hoping to purchase a pair of vibram five-finger shoes tomorrow. More on that later).

while I'm waiting . . .

transition: the act of passing from one state or place to the next

I realized this week that we've been in transition for over a year now. In terms of housing, ministry andtransition community we are still "passing from one place to the next."

That's a long time to be in transit. In fact, I got downright cranky about it a few days ago.

"What am I supposed to do while we're waiting ?" I whined to Greg one evening. "I need to feel connected! I need community!"

Greg, who is a really wise man, answered me with a question: "Didn't you mention recently that God told you to run?

"Um, maybe," I answered, surprised that he remembered.

"Then while we're waiting, I think you should run . . ."

**************************************

Why, you may be asking, would the Lord of the Universe tell a 54 year-old woman--who hates running--to start sprinting? What possible purpose would that serve?

I honestly haven't a clue, but I've felt His prompting for several months now. It started with a running book loaned to me by a friend. A book I offered a polite "thank you" for and promptly shelved. Didn't Debbi know I hated running?

But on one of our weekend treks to Walla Walla, I finally read "Born to Run"and found it absolutely fascinating. In fact, I became a little obsessed with running. I researched funky running shoes. I rented Chariots of Fire. I watched YouTube videos about proper running techniques.

But I still wasn't motivated to actually run. I was honestly a bit fearful of injuring myself at my advanced age. :)

During my daily Bible reading, however, verses about running started popping up. From prophets outrunning chariots in the Old Testament to the father racing to meet his prodigal son in Luke, I discovered the scriptures are jam-packed with jogging verses.

God really got my attention on my birthday. When I read Hebrews 12:1: "Run with endurance the race God has set before you," it seemed to be a challenge issued from on high.

So I laced up my running shoes and began to cautiously shuffle around the block, torn between the fear of hurting myself and scaring my neighbors. I really wanted to run, but starting at my age made no sense to me. Without a clear sense of purpose, it was easy to find excuses not to run.

Until my husband brought it up this week.

Emboldened by his encouragement, I ran all the way to the community garden yesterday (OK, it's only a mile and mostly downhill), hoed and weeded for 20 minutes, then ran/walked back. As I trotted toward home, I asked the Lord to explain a few things to me.

"Lord, I think I get that You want to teach me stuff through running--like perseverance and endurance. But one thing still confuses me--what does running have to do with waiting?'

Before I completed my next stride, it came to me:

They that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

Well, alrighty then. I shall run!

So, the next time you see a determined, middle aged woman jogging around Clackamas, smile and wave.

It's just me, waiting . . .

God is my realtor

The older I get, the more I realize that there really is no division between the sacred and the secular. God is in everything--even real estate--if we invite Him.

A few months ago, I wrote about the difficulties I encountered in having new glasses made. As the months blurred by--with no specs in sight--I began to realize that this was not just about my vision--it was about seeing the situation through God's eyes. One day it dawned on me that God cared more about my optician's heart than He did my eyesight!

So, I adjusted my attitude and tried to see the situation--and the people--through God's eyes. I wasn't nearly as frustrated after that . . .

I'm sensing a similar scenario with the sale of our house. We put it on the market a few weeks ago--and we just met with a couple who presented a full-price offer!

It's a pretty cool story, actually. On the eve of June 17, as I was drifting off to sleep, I told the Lord that an offer on our house would make an awesome birthday present. So why should I have been surprised when Wayne (God's little helper) called the next day (my birthday) to inform me that an offer had been made on our house!

We aren't packing yet, however, because the offer is contingent on the sale of the buyer's home . . .

At first, I was a little disappointed with the contingency. It's not like houses are selling like hotcakes these days. But the more I thought and prayed about it, I realized that there's a lot more transpiring than just the sale of our house.

I've actually been praying for the future owners of our home for about six months now. Rather than petitioning God for a quick sale or a big profit, I've been asking Him to bring a family who would love and appreciate our home as much as we have!

Based on our interactions with the couple who made the offer, I think He's answered our prayers. The potential buyers actually used the word "love" several times in referring to our humble abode--I think they even liked my crazy paint job and tub 'o grub!

While waiting for their house to sell to proceed with the transaction might not seem optimal to some, I've come to the unshakeable conclusion that God's timing is perfect. And Greg and I aren't in a hurry--we don't have to move out of the area at any set time. We plan on just renting a smaller place in the Portland area after our house sells.

Of course, it needs to have space for a garden and enough room for my grandbabies . . .

It even occurred to me yesterday that perhaps the perfect place for us won't be available for a while. . . . like until after our potential buyers' house sells!

So, no worries, mate! With God as our realtor, how can we lose?