{{item.title | uppercase}}

“For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.”
Hebrews 12:11-13

I run!

If my husband were here he’d say something snarky like, “Yes, to a good sale at the store!” See, the girl he knew didn’t run. She loved and played sports of every kind, but running to her was just a way to conjure up bad memories. I played basketball throughout my life, all the way to the collegiate level. So in my sport, running was the punishment.

I’m not a runner, but I do run.

I decided to start running a few months after my husband’s passing. I thought it might be a good new thing and would help relieve stress. Mostly, I believed I could honor my runner hubby every time I hit the pavement; he was an avid runner whose crowning glory was running the NYC marathon.

I started small and it was tough. I would still say over three years later when I run, I’m in a battle. My heart vs. my mind and body. My heart wants to do this, but the others want to quit with each step. When a friend saw me running one time, she thought I looked intense. I explained that I’m talking myself down from stopping the entire time.

I’m not a runner, but I do run.

I completed my first 5k, one right in my hometown, a few months after starting. I gained confidence and began to participate in other area 5ks. I also found the fun world of mud runs. (If you’ve never tried one, I highly recommend it.) It’s a fun crazy muddy run, with obstacles of all kinds thrown in. On the second anniversary of my husband’s passing, I did a five mile mud run.

Did I mention I am not a runner, but I do run?

I was really getting ambitious (or crazy), so I signed up to run a half marathon, 13.1 whopping miles. I enlisted help from a dear friend, and we trained and ran the race together. Without our partnership, I don’t think either of us would have finished the race because it was so grueling. We were able to help each other, encourage each other, challenge each other, and at certain points during the race literally drag each other. She was an inspiration to me! She lovingly held me accountable, supported me, and was there by my side the whole time.

I realize now God is using running and particularly the half marathon to speak to me.

He even used that race and the partnership with my dear friend to remind me of how much I need Him on this widow journey. He is there for me each step of the way, to love on me, support me, guide me, and literally push me forward or even carry me at times. This widow “race” can be grueling and overwhelming, and I could be easily disjointed or injured by my hurt and pain. But, like the verse from Hebrews assures me, God will bring “peaceful fruit” of righteousness out of my suffering. He will protect the “lame parts” in my widowed heart. I am called to lift up my hands, strengthen my knees (I envision standing before Him with locked knees and open hands) and look to Him. He will heal me!

Heavenly Father, help us to see You working in our lives. Help us to be assured that our pain will yield fruit. Lord, bring us peace in our training. Knowing that You are going to heal us and help us move forward in Your perfect time. Father, comfort those who are still in the throngs of pain and sadness. Protect their lame parts and guide them to straight healing paths in You. Lord, give us the strength and provision to run this race. In Your matchless name, Amen.