There's nothing like a good hard run. As your feet pound away against the dirt, the road, the hills, they pound away from life. And even as they conquer the air, they take you down a road of intriguing memories. For once, instead of keeping my mind on what Andrew's doing now, or my internship, or my work, or my hulu queue, I close my eyes and open them to beautiful, beautiful memories.
I run past the mailbox and I smell a campfire burning. My eyes close on their own and instantly I'm 15 again. I'm staring into the fire pit, surrounded by the peace of my Dad's contentment, my mom snuggled in a blanket next to him, and my brother only coming to life to throw something at me. I stare into the fire, wondering where he is....determined to believe that he must be in the little group of boys that I know at the time. False. SO false.
I open my eyes and run past a neck of trees that are covered in rich green ivy and vines. The smell of the campfire falls behind me and instead I'm greeted with the smell of wildflowers along the valley. My eyes close and where am I? I'm 14 and I'm picking from an easy field of can-spread Martha Stewart wildflowers. I loved making little bouquets every day for the kitchen table.
I run for another 10 minutes or so and as I round back, I default to thinking about Andrew, as I often do. I pray for him and wonder what he's doing. I wish so badly that we were already married. And then as I leapt over an extra rocky patch, I realized how quickly this whole last year has gone. And it hit me that before I know it, it will be June of next year. And, Lord willing, I'll be with him and wishing that time would slow down. As I slow down to a jog and feel long grass tickle my ankles as I brush by, I'm suddenly overwhelmed with thanks to God for now and for the sweet promise of a future. If it weren't for God, I wouldn't have gotten to know Andrew. And if it weren't for God, I wouldn't have this moment. We never know how much longer we have. I want to make the most of the time I have.
As my feet find my home stretch again, I look out on the valley and stop running. I stretch my calves, embrace one arm at a time, and then as I'm reaching for the sky, my eyes close and I fly back in time. I don't know how young I was. I truly believe this may be my first memory of my childhood home in Mount Caramel, Kentucky. I don't know if I got this when I lived there at age 2 or if it came to me later when I visited in elementary. But I'd forgotten about this memory. Literally ALL growing up was just my idea of true peace and beauty and happiness. I'm looking in on the memory and I don't know what exactly I'm seeing. I'm looking at a grown up version of myself. I'm wearing a long summer white dress and I'm happy. I'm standing on a hill, looking out over a valley where the sun is setting. The view before me is a hazy golden sky, so I assume it's a sunset. And the big thing I see is a wooden white bench hanging from a tree. I never swing in it. But in my idea, it would be the greatest bliss to sit on it and swing out from the hill over nothingness. It would be like flying.
So I don't know WHERE that memory comes from. I don't know if my mind created it at a young age and it just stuck with me for years, but I do know that when I opened my eyes on the valley here, I thought with a rush - I am that girl. This is me now. I'm happy. I'm at peace. God has given me everything I need.
I'm thankful that God allows someone so small and insignificant to run with defiance against life, each foot pounding in front of me, each frustration torn into the gravel. And then he lets me come to the end of my run exhausted, broken and filled with renewed thankfulness for his many gifts and mercies.
I am so small and my God is so big. There's nothing my God cannot do. :)
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