The instructions for last Saturday's trail run were simple--"keep the orange markers on your left. If the orange marker is on your right, you are going the wrong way." That is really all we had to remember. It was clear and the only way to have trouble was to forget which side is the left. Of course, that we the easy part. The rest of the run involved keeping going over 15.5 miles of hilly terrain. The course elevation map looked like an EKG. Nevertheless, at the end both Abby and I determined to be back next year for another go at this one.
As followers of this blog would know, I love to run. I am not very good at it. I am not very fast (or at all fast). I don't look like an ad for a running magazine. In fact, I may look more like an ad for someone who needs to get out and run. But I just love to run. I also love the outdoors. Hiking, backpacking, just being outside in the woods. But Saturday was really the first time to put these two passions together. And it was wonderful. (Plus, this morning the hills I ran around home felt like nothing.)
The disorienting thing about Saturday's run was not really knowing how much of the race remained. I have run a lot of routes around town, so I know exactly how long those runs are. I also have a pretty good idea of how fast I run on the roads, so can gauge how far I have gone pretty accurately. But for most of Saturday I didn't really know how much of the race was left. Ordinarily that would not be a problem, but I needed to make sure that I had enough gas left in the tank to make it to the end. Next year I will know. This year I did not. I had seen a map of the course and could see where the run would go, but seeing a line on a flat piece of paper bore little resemblance to the reality of Afton State Park.
The point is that my main job on Saturday was to keep following the marked path. It was not my responsibility to determine where the orange markers went--but just to follow them. My task was not to consider whether I might have set out a different race course, but to follow the course that the race director had marked out for us. This was a trail run, not an orienteering event. In fact, I would have been disqualified if I had set off on a course of my own choosing.
One thing that I believe is that I have been made by a Creator who has marked out a course. Sometimes the markers are close together and sometimes they are farther apart. But someone else has marked out the course. My task in this life is not to chart my own course or to determine what is the "best" way to get from point A to point B. My life will primarily be assessed on how well I followed the marked path, and secondarily on the effort and determination that I bring to that following.
The writer of Hebrews said it this way:
Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.
Pressing On!
-Ken
The Persistent Journey -- toward authentic living in an inauthentic world
Monday, July 5, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Just Being There
There was nothing remarkable about this morning's run. Not very long. Not very fast. An often-run course. Nothing to set it apart from dozens of the same run over the past few years. And maybe that is the point. Looking back over my training logs you would find that most of my runs are unremarkable. There have been a few that are on a different or particularly interesting or challenging course. A few that are of a notable distance of pace. But mostly just regular, ordinary, unremarkable runs. But without the ordinary runs, there would be no foundation for the extra-ordinary. If I expected every run to be a new mountaintop experience, then I would be quickly and deeply disappointed. Yet all too often, I tend to devalue the ordinary in my pursuit of the spectacular, stunning, or remarkable.
For example, I am much more willing to talk about the Goofy Race and Half Challenge (half marathon one day followed by full marathon the next) that I ran last January than the dozens of 3-5 mile runs since then. Why? Because anyone can run the ordinary runs, but I don't know anyone else who has done the Goofy. I think that I look for, and value, that which is unusual or unique above the regular. But I believe that there may be a greater benefit to holding the regular in just as high a regard as the unique.
But there is certainly not a lot of support for that view in our culture. There is no award for the "Most Ordinary" and Mr. Regular doesn't get headlines. Yet the foundation for extraordinary achievements--whether in one person or collectively--is ordinary, day after day, consistency.
Think about relationships. When a good friend is going through a difficult time, what I have heard most often is that what was valued was not the witty words of wisdom, but just being there. Not the "solution", but a willingness to walk together through the darkness until the break of dawn. Just being there.
I wonder how often we are looking for God to do something spectacular and stunning, and yet He offers to just be there. Day in and day out. When things are good and when life is challenging. He never promised that He would always appear with craches of thunder and bright flashes of lightning. But he does promise:
Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
The ultimate "just being there."
Press On!
-Ken
For example, I am much more willing to talk about the Goofy Race and Half Challenge (half marathon one day followed by full marathon the next) that I ran last January than the dozens of 3-5 mile runs since then. Why? Because anyone can run the ordinary runs, but I don't know anyone else who has done the Goofy. I think that I look for, and value, that which is unusual or unique above the regular. But I believe that there may be a greater benefit to holding the regular in just as high a regard as the unique.
But there is certainly not a lot of support for that view in our culture. There is no award for the "Most Ordinary" and Mr. Regular doesn't get headlines. Yet the foundation for extraordinary achievements--whether in one person or collectively--is ordinary, day after day, consistency.
Think about relationships. When a good friend is going through a difficult time, what I have heard most often is that what was valued was not the witty words of wisdom, but just being there. Not the "solution", but a willingness to walk together through the darkness until the break of dawn. Just being there.
I wonder how often we are looking for God to do something spectacular and stunning, and yet He offers to just be there. Day in and day out. When things are good and when life is challenging. He never promised that He would always appear with craches of thunder and bright flashes of lightning. But he does promise:
Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
The ultimate "just being there."
Press On!
-Ken
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Just the Facts Ma'am
No matter a person's penchant or ability for self-deception, the watch and the scale do not lie. They are impartial and objective sentinels of data, of raw information. How to interpret that information is for someone else. The watch and the scale are the Joe Friday's of life--just the facts. Feelings and impressions are the anti-Friday's. Not impartial and certainly not objective. Take today for instance.
Finally back at home after a few days of travel and working from home--a great day for a Noon run. I was thinking gazelle. Bounding along the road. Up and down hills. Effortless. Graceful. Then came that house's picture window and I could have sworn that I saw a water buffalo lumbering toward the muddy water hole. Maybe the glass was goofy--like the carnival midway. Then I looked at my watch. No interpretation. No thought to what numbers I might want to see. Just the facts--elapsed time and average pace. Definitely NOT gazelle. The stark color crayon of reality drew a stick figure on the Rembrandt in my mind.
For a moment I was mad at the watch. Probably needs to be recharged or needs a new battery, right? It must be set to some different time zone--like that would make a difference. No. Sadly, the problem was not with my watch, but with my perception and my wishes. I have often said, "wishing doesn't make it so" and this was a chance to take heed to my own words.
Where does this enormous capacity for self-deception come from? Is it just me? And what can I do about it? After all, the best way of thinking about my running is to have an accurate gauge of my fitness and ability. Otherwise I am going to break off more than I can handle and end up getting hurt, or embarrassed, or both.
Without diving into the deep end of where the inclination for self-deception comes from, how can I deal with it? In running, with a watch and an accurate measurement of the distances that I am running. That way I can track my progress and see if I am making improvements by either increasing distance or decreasing pace. Those numbers are not subject to self-deception and they do not lie. In other words, I need an impartial observer who will not be swayed by what I want to hear.
So too in my journey of faith. Without some objectivity, it is so easy to think that I am in a much better position than I really may be. While there are no "spiritual life watches," I can keep track of my progress with practicing spiritual disciplines that I know will lead to, and be indicators of, a vibrant spiritual life--prayer, Bible reading, service, solitude, confession. I think that I would also benefit from a person who knows me, but who is impartial enough to call a water buffalo a water buffalo--even when I want my name tag to read gazelle. (And really, who am I trying to kid. Even on my best and fastest days I never made anyone think of a gazelle. Maybe a really active Saint Bernard, but never a gazelle.)
I believe that the farther along the spiritual journey a person is, the harder it is to find that impartial, clear voice. And more necessary. At a certain point we get accustomed to people looking to us for guidance and encouragement and straight talking. And the pool of people who are at our same point in the journey, or who are beyond us, grows smaller. A good friend has been tapping into the wisdom of those long-dead saints for his impartial voice. (Through their writings, not what you just thought.) Maybe that could be a place to look? I have resources on the bookshelf right in front of me that others who are way smarter than me in this area have put together. It is worth a look. I would hate to get to heaven thinking I was a gazelle only to be greeted as Mr. Water Buffalo.
Pressing on!
-Ken
Finally back at home after a few days of travel and working from home--a great day for a Noon run. I was thinking gazelle. Bounding along the road. Up and down hills. Effortless. Graceful. Then came that house's picture window and I could have sworn that I saw a water buffalo lumbering toward the muddy water hole. Maybe the glass was goofy--like the carnival midway. Then I looked at my watch. No interpretation. No thought to what numbers I might want to see. Just the facts--elapsed time and average pace. Definitely NOT gazelle. The stark color crayon of reality drew a stick figure on the Rembrandt in my mind.
For a moment I was mad at the watch. Probably needs to be recharged or needs a new battery, right? It must be set to some different time zone--like that would make a difference. No. Sadly, the problem was not with my watch, but with my perception and my wishes. I have often said, "wishing doesn't make it so" and this was a chance to take heed to my own words.
Where does this enormous capacity for self-deception come from? Is it just me? And what can I do about it? After all, the best way of thinking about my running is to have an accurate gauge of my fitness and ability. Otherwise I am going to break off more than I can handle and end up getting hurt, or embarrassed, or both.
Without diving into the deep end of where the inclination for self-deception comes from, how can I deal with it? In running, with a watch and an accurate measurement of the distances that I am running. That way I can track my progress and see if I am making improvements by either increasing distance or decreasing pace. Those numbers are not subject to self-deception and they do not lie. In other words, I need an impartial observer who will not be swayed by what I want to hear.
So too in my journey of faith. Without some objectivity, it is so easy to think that I am in a much better position than I really may be. While there are no "spiritual life watches," I can keep track of my progress with practicing spiritual disciplines that I know will lead to, and be indicators of, a vibrant spiritual life--prayer, Bible reading, service, solitude, confession. I think that I would also benefit from a person who knows me, but who is impartial enough to call a water buffalo a water buffalo--even when I want my name tag to read gazelle. (And really, who am I trying to kid. Even on my best and fastest days I never made anyone think of a gazelle. Maybe a really active Saint Bernard, but never a gazelle.)
I believe that the farther along the spiritual journey a person is, the harder it is to find that impartial, clear voice. And more necessary. At a certain point we get accustomed to people looking to us for guidance and encouragement and straight talking. And the pool of people who are at our same point in the journey, or who are beyond us, grows smaller. A good friend has been tapping into the wisdom of those long-dead saints for his impartial voice. (Through their writings, not what you just thought.) Maybe that could be a place to look? I have resources on the bookshelf right in front of me that others who are way smarter than me in this area have put together. It is worth a look. I would hate to get to heaven thinking I was a gazelle only to be greeted as Mr. Water Buffalo.
Pressing on!
-Ken
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Man Up and Shake Hands
People will remember who you are longer than they will remember what you do. This is bad news for France's World Cup team and coach. A year from now most people may not remember that the team was knocked out of the tournament in the first round. More people will remember that the team revolted against the coach and walked off of the practice field and that the coach refused to shake the hand of his opposite number for South Africa after the final game. Really? Wouldn't even shake hands? Wouldn't even congratulate the host country's coach on a game well-played? I wonder if he will get fired before or after he gets back to France.
Adversity is a better reflection of our soul's condition than prosperity. Prosperity masks the defects in our character. Adversity shines a bright light on our weaknesses. In prosperity we can keep our defects hidden. In adversity, our weaknesses rise to the surface where they cannot be kept from view. If we are in the game of managing our image, then keeping our weaknesses and defects hidden becomes our primary endeavor. The greatest challenge to managing our image is that we have very little control over whether we are living in prosperity or adversity. To manage our image, we either need to make sure that we are living most of th time in prosperity, or else we have to deal with our shortcomings. Most of us will try to manage our circumstances rather than to develop healthy souls.
So if we cannot generally control our circumstances, how do we develop healthy souls? This post is not long enough for a thorough answer in one sitting. Nor am I silly enough to believe that I have THE answer to that issue. But I have given this a lot of thought and attention and have some ideas. One thing I know is that soul health does not happen overnight. Instead, like long running, it requires focused attention over a long period of time. As Eugene Peterson put it, a healthy soul requires "a long obedience in the same direction." While it is not easy, it is pretty simple. Mostly it just takes time and persistence--things in short supply in our contemporary American culture. But, it is worth the effort if you want to be remembered for the right thing--who you are.
Pressing on!
-Ken
Adversity is a better reflection of our soul's condition than prosperity. Prosperity masks the defects in our character. Adversity shines a bright light on our weaknesses. In prosperity we can keep our defects hidden. In adversity, our weaknesses rise to the surface where they cannot be kept from view. If we are in the game of managing our image, then keeping our weaknesses and defects hidden becomes our primary endeavor. The greatest challenge to managing our image is that we have very little control over whether we are living in prosperity or adversity. To manage our image, we either need to make sure that we are living most of th time in prosperity, or else we have to deal with our shortcomings. Most of us will try to manage our circumstances rather than to develop healthy souls.
So if we cannot generally control our circumstances, how do we develop healthy souls? This post is not long enough for a thorough answer in one sitting. Nor am I silly enough to believe that I have THE answer to that issue. But I have given this a lot of thought and attention and have some ideas. One thing I know is that soul health does not happen overnight. Instead, like long running, it requires focused attention over a long period of time. As Eugene Peterson put it, a healthy soul requires "a long obedience in the same direction." While it is not easy, it is pretty simple. Mostly it just takes time and persistence--things in short supply in our contemporary American culture. But, it is worth the effort if you want to be remembered for the right thing--who you are.
Pressing on!
-Ken
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The 50-Day Evaluation
United States Presidents are often first evaluated on their conduct in office over the first 100 days of their tenure. I have not been thinking so much of the past 100 days as the past 50--more or less. My two oldest daughters were married within 50 days of each other. My youngest daughter graduated from high school in between. I spent a week in (old) Jersey and two weeks doing some teaching and training in India. It has been quite the whirlwind, but that is not the point of this entry. The point is that my life is now fundamentally different and it will require a different approach to making everything work.
Or has it changed at the core? Sure, I now have two sons-in-law, with whom I want to develop a strong and respectful friendship. I have entrusted two of my daughters to someone else's care and provision. (I have two open rooms at the house with which to generate some revenue?) But isn't life still about fulfilling the mission that I have been called to? Isn't life still about building sustaining and revitalizing friendships? Isn't life still about finding satisfaction and meaning in faith and family? Isn't life still about finding meaningful work to put my hands to? Those fundamentals have not changed--and never should. The outward expression of those fundamentals may change, but not the fundamentals themselves.
I am looking forward to the next 50 days. They may set the tone for all that follows. I am eager to learn how to be a supportive and valued father-in-law to Nathan and Paul. I am curious to see how Kelsey and Hannah transfer their loyalties to their new husbands and how they build their own homes. I am interested to see the development of that fine line between being involved and letting them all learn from experience. I am also happy for Abby to be going off to school and finding new challenges, friends, and life experiences. Should be a great ride.
Pressing on!
-Ken
Or has it changed at the core? Sure, I now have two sons-in-law, with whom I want to develop a strong and respectful friendship. I have entrusted two of my daughters to someone else's care and provision. (I have two open rooms at the house with which to generate some revenue?) But isn't life still about fulfilling the mission that I have been called to? Isn't life still about building sustaining and revitalizing friendships? Isn't life still about finding satisfaction and meaning in faith and family? Isn't life still about finding meaningful work to put my hands to? Those fundamentals have not changed--and never should. The outward expression of those fundamentals may change, but not the fundamentals themselves.
I am looking forward to the next 50 days. They may set the tone for all that follows. I am eager to learn how to be a supportive and valued father-in-law to Nathan and Paul. I am curious to see how Kelsey and Hannah transfer their loyalties to their new husbands and how they build their own homes. I am interested to see the development of that fine line between being involved and letting them all learn from experience. I am also happy for Abby to be going off to school and finding new challenges, friends, and life experiences. Should be a great ride.
Pressing on!
-Ken
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