This morning’s run had me in tears.
Unless my alarm is set for 5 mins after the coffee pot turns on, I rarely go a run, no matter how honest my intentions were. Something always comes up, or, before you know it, it’s time to get ready for bed.
So this night owl sacrifices an hour of sleep to go for morning runs. It’s not a huge deal, it’s just what works for me. Now that I am no longer running off my feet serving, I just need those extra steps in my day. Once I am out that door, the music is pounding in my ears, and I’m just about to the beach- that hour of sleep is the furthest thing from my mind.
Morning runs are a saving grace in the summer heat, and they put everything into a far better perspective.
But this isn’t a post about running. Me and my steady 10 min/mile have nothing to give the sport of running. I am a taker: I’m in it for the mental health and rush of it (yes, even us slow and steady folk feel the rush… for me, it comes about 35 mins in).
As I passed through the gates to the beach trail, I was greeted by the low, orange sun which was far warmer than it has been in recent days. The Earth was showing gratitude for that warmth… steam rose from the ground and the water in the bay was eerily still. Ahead, just past the dyke, the silhouettes of hundreds of Canadian geese could be seen drifting silently along the shore.
And then I felt it: first in my knees, and then all around me.
a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces, but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire…
… a still small voice.
God. Everywhere. Tears spilled onto my cheeks.
After stopping to take pictures of the way the ocean disappeared into the fiery mist, I looked over my shoulder to see a giant silver moon dipping low to the trees. He was there. I could feel him.
I made it just for you
It was just me out there (which is rare, because the beach is best at sunrise and the locals know that). Eagles circled overhead. Brown rabbits zig-zagged across the path and a huge owl watched me from a fence post.
I’ve taken care of you. I always will take care of you.
Today was huge: Scotty was interviewing for a teaching position at 1pm. I have been a bit of a nervous wreck about it. I don’t like to complain, but these past five years have been hard. Very hard. Having one spouse navigate a career change is tough, but when BOTH spouses are in school and working weird hours?
With looming credit lines coming due, I have been a bit of a nervous wreck. I’ve busted out in cold sores and stomach aches in the past 48 hours, but taking in lungfuls of the steam rising from the earth; being flooded with breath-taking beauty; and being enveloped by Greatness that kept whispering over and over again,
I always will take care of you
filled me with nothing but gratitude. I was in the palm of my Creator this morning and he made certain that I knew it.