Forward is a Pace

Note: I wrote this back in July and maybe I didn't post it because of the pictures taking so long to load, or the fact that I've dropped the ball on the whole running thing lately.  I don't really remember, but it's written, so I'll put it out there and hopefully there will be more blogs to come.  People keep asking me about writing, so I'll take that as affirmation to pick up the ol' keyboard once again...

At the start line of the Nashville Country Music Marathon!

A few months ago I completed my first marathon.  All 26.2 miles.  The weather was hotter, the hills steeper and the pace slower than what I had hoped for, but I finished.  It seems that the insanity of training through the winter months in Wheaton, IL, complete with ice, snow and extremely cold running weather wasn't enough, but I had to register for a race in hilly, humid Nashville at the end of April.  My training runs were flat and chilly, the race was hot and hilly! That's probably the reason that I laughed out loud when I read one of the spectator's signs along the 26.2 mile course: "It seemed like a good idea four months ago!"

Four months and over 400 miles later and I was headed through the streets of Nashville looking for the finish line.  There were several other funny signs, some super sketchy ones and many encouraging phrases too.  But there was one white poster-board with words that touched me to the core and provided the motivation that I needed.  It simply read: "Forward is a pace."

This was good news to me since I had been on track for the first 13.1 miles, but met my match on a huge hill in mile 15.  It was discouraging to know that my time goal wouldn't be met and I had been a bit frustrated at having to take some walk breaks.  I kept telling myself from then on, "Forward is a pace."  It also helped that I had friends and family cheering me on at different points of the race.  I gave my dad a high five around 20 miles and the last 6.2 were the longest of my life.

My partner in crime and running buddy, Kristen.  Thankful for her positivity during all those long winter runs!

More of the support team.  Thankful for my parents spending all day out on the course.

My beautiful friends, Blair and Heather, that joined in the 5k race and then cheered me on!

After running, I came home to two more weeks of grad school and adopted "Forward is a pace" as my new mantra.  Any progress, no matter how small, was better than nothing!  Now, as I have moved away and begun to settle back into North Carolina life I need to remember the saying and keep pushing forward in search of what the Lord has in store for me here.

There were several runners that passed me that day in Nashville, and there were many that I ran around as well.  It was no fun to be left in the dust, and though sometimes I celebrated a little for passing another person, that wasn't usually the case.  When I focused on those ahead of me I felt like a failure.  Why couldn't I keep up?  When I focused on those behind I puffed up with pride.  Who am I to judge them?  We're all runners and we all run our own pace.

When I think about where I'm at in this stage of life I don't want to run at another's pace.  It is easy to look to friends who have established careers or entered into serious relationships and wonder why they seem to be "ahead".  No good can come from looking back at others who have made different choices or come under tough circumstances and seem to be lagging behind either.

So, while I'm still trying to think and pray through the next step, I know that this may be a time to take a walk break and gear up for the next bit of running to come.  I want to continue moving forward, stay the course and remember to run at my pace as I seek to finish well for His glory.

Marathon finished.  Posing with my medal!

The End of an Era

Hey there.  It's been awhile.  My last post was one month into grad school (Feb. 2013).  I was in a new place and still extremely motivated as a student.  However, since that time I have read many textbooks and written many pages of papers, so the blog kind of fell along the wayside.  Now, 18 months after the journey of Wheaton College Graduate School began, I find myself back at home in North Carolina sipping sweet tea, dodging gigantic June bugs and trying to survive the humidity in July.  What an adventure this past year and a half has been!

Last Sunday, as my parents and a couple of friends were helping to pack up all of my belongings, one of my best friends (in the Wheaton context) and I took a break to grab some ice cream.  We chatted a little bit about our time at school and about future plans.  She said something about it being "the end of an era," to which I responded that I thought an era was supposed to be an extended, you know, really long time.  After I thought about it, I agreed that we could call our 18 months an era.  That just sounds so epic :)

When I think back to the beginning, I remember the first few weeks at Wheaton when I would spend time reading for class (so many books!), watching the Harry Potter movies and sometimes going to the grocery store just to have some human interaction.  Those lonely days didn't last long as I began to meet people and form deeper relationships.  Soon I went from having too much time to not enough as social activities, ministry opportunities and the school workload increased.

It may have only been 18 months, but what a bunch of living my friends and I did during that time!  There were so many memorable late night conversations, rambunctious game nights, Spirit-filled worship and prayer times, amazing international potlucks, bouts of hilarious laughter, birthday celebrations, Sunday night home-cooked meals, Downton Abbey viewings, ice cream runs, movie nights and much, much more.

There were also times of sorrow and grief when the only thing we could do was sit with each other and just be.  There were times of frustration and feelings of inadequacy, bouts of depression and sadness, periods of worry for the future.  All of these crazy ups and downs allowed me to see the beautiful community that Christ had surrounded me with in Wheaton.  My classmates, professors, bosses and friends felt like family as they spoke truth into my life and continually affirmed the woman God had created me to be.

On May 10, I walked across a stage in a funny hat and Wheaton College Graduate School named me a Master.  It felt good to have the hard work recognized, but it was even better to go through the doors and meet up with friends and family for pictures and fellowship.  The celebration and community afterward was so much sweeter than hearing my name called and receiving an awkward hood (which I returned the next day).

I haven't fully processed all that I have learned or the many ways I've grown over the past months, but I know that I am not the same as when I left.  (Sidenote: There may be a new series coming called "Stuff I learned at Grad School") Many people have asked me if it's "good to be home?" and I can't seem to find the right response.  While I love my family and friends and the great state of North Carolina, the word itself - home - has a new meaning.  Wheaton was my home.  I planted myself there and dug my roots in deep, seeking to love people deeply, and study diligently for the Lord.  Though the winter was absolutely insane, I loved the little suburb of Chicago and everyone in it.

When I walked out of my apartment for the last time, the place where I had called home and shared so much joy and laughter with those closest to me, I sensed that it really was the end of a great era and I thanked God for giving me such freedom and life there.  As I said goodbye to two of my best friends and began to drive away, it was quite a difficult thing to do.  The tears came and at first I was a bit embarrassed, but then I realized how God had done exceedingly, abundantly above what I had hoped or expected for that season of my life and knew it was hard to leave because it had been so wonderful.

As I got to the hotel where we'd stay before heading out early the next morning, I received two text messages from close friends in NC.  They were praying for safe travels and were excited to meet up for lunch soon.  My eyes began to water again.  It was as if the Lord was saying, "You are not alone.  There are those who love you here in Wheaton, and there in North Carolina.  I will not abandon you, and neither will your friends."  What a crazy intimate God that watches over us and meets our every need.  He continues to amaze me and I know He has a plan (though I have yet to see it) for the coming months and years.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm thankful for the time I had and the friendships I formed at Wheaton.  I'm also excited to be on the edge of a new and exciting era to come.