Category Archives: God speaks

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My very brief “75 Hard” journey and what I learned

Learning to sit in the dark

I recently read a book for book club called Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor. Ever since, I’ve been thinking a lot about the dark, and my relationship to it. When I lost my vision and hearing I became very afraid of the dark. My limited field of vision leaves me wanting more. If I could just get more light in, maybe I could see the whole picture. With more light, maybe I could see it all. But that’s futile wanting. Even with full light, I still can only see fractions. I’ve had extra lighting installed everywhere in my home. Extra lamps in the bedroom, recessed lighting in the living room, under the cabinets in the kitchen. It does help when I’m trying to get work done and need to see specific things. Paperwork, food I’m preparing, the dust on the couch. But it doesn’t fix it. I’m still partially blind.

How long to you feed the longing for something you lost? How long do you entertain the yearning when you know it’s not coming back? Is the frustration worth it? Probably not. When is it time to give up the striving? Probably now.

I’m learning to sit in the dark. I woke this morning to get the kids up for school. I know they are teenagers and should be able to do this for themselves, but I enjoy it. I enjoy being around them in the calm of the morning. I know I’ll miss it when they are gone. This morning when I came downstairs to let the dogs out, I intentionally did not turn on the light in the kitchen. We have under-cabinet lighting, so it wasn’t completely dark. But it wasn’t completely light, either. It was nice. Calm. When I let the dogs outside, out of habit I flicked the outdoor light on and our deck flooded with artificial light. It was harsh, and as I looked out into the yard I noticed the moon hanging low in the sky. It was a near full moon, and it was majestic. So majestic, that I decided I needed to turn off the floodlight and let the moon shine in all its glory. I stood on the deck as the dogs ran around the yard and just absorbed the blend of early morning light and dark.

Normally I would have been trying to conjure up some profound thoughts in response to this moment, but today I just wanted to be. I just wanted to breathe in the morning, thank God for giving me the moon, and let that be enough.  Over ten years into this disability, I am still grieving my losses. I don’t think grief is a checklist to be completed. It ebbs and flows, and it never truly ends. But I am thankful that it has waned, and is not so soul-crushing as it used to be. I am learning. Learning to sit with the dark, look up to the sky for solace, and be okay. Because today, that is enough.

Marathon Training Week 2

Week 2 is a wrap! I forgot to report last week that I had run a total of 12.48 miles, so there you go. This week I had two midweek runs and today’s long run of 11 miles, for a weekly total of 18.47 miles and a grand total of 30.95. We’re not counting the training I did for the half marathon, which is actually kind of relevant so I may go back and tally those miles. It’s important to understand that you don’t typically start a marathon training plan running this many miles. It really depends on your fitness level. This particular plan I’m following, I jumped in at week 8, because I had just completed the Bayshore half marathon and knew it wouldn’t be much of a stretch for me.

I had no issues with my midweek runs, and none with the 11 mile run either. But I’ll talk about my long run anyway, because isn’t that why you’re still here reading? One of the things I’ve really been struggling with is to slow down. All my reading and research from the experts says to train slow. Jeff Galloway says to run at a pace two minutes slower than usual, and that’s been challenging! Its so counter-intuitive, but running slower builds up the same endurance as running faster, but without the added risk of injury. There’s so much science behind this method so I’m doing my best to follow it.

I started this run not really wanting to. My legs in particular needed a lot of warming up, and I needed some encouragement. It was in the first quarter mile that I saw a birdie standing in my path. Then, as I approached, he hopped to a nearby rock, and then another rock, and then a branch, each time looking back at me as if to say “Let’s go! Are you coming? I know you can do this.” And then, a few seconds later, I saw a bunny cross the path right in front of me to hide under a tree. I freaking love bunnies, and we have a lot of them living in our neighborhood. Every time I see one while I’m out running, I smile and thank Jesus for that gift. So that was a nice start to my run, and in moments of boredom along the way, I thought back to my birdie and bunny friends and it helped keep me going.

When I approached 8 miles I was starting to feel fatigued, but my legs still felt strong. When the weather gets hotter, running gets harder so you just have to stay properly hydrated and slow down a bit more. Let go of those expectations and just keep moving. I was equipped with my hydration backpack, so I just kept sipping that at every walk break.

When I had two miles left to go I was really starting to struggle. I had been talking to myself since mile 8, telling myself I could do this, I wasn’t giving up, one step at a time, etc. etc. but after mile 9 my legs were starting to tell me they were done. I trudged along, not discouraged because I knew I was still building endurance no matter how slow I was going. For safety reasons, I walked most of the 11th mile. There was a lot of uneven sidewalk and I knew my legs and feet weren’t going to lift the way they needed to navigate those obstacles. So to avoid tripping and falling, I just walked. And then when I was back on the street with fewer cracks and holes, I ran again. That was reassuring to see how my legs responded to the rest (walking). A little time to rest and they were ready to get back to work!

I’m still enjoying running, especially in the early miles of these long runs, and in the later miles I have ways of keeping myself motivated. I remind myself of how far I’ve come, how much God has blessed me through this running journey. And down the road when the miles are adding up and I’m wanting to quit, I’ll read some inspirational stories and watch some Rocky movies to remind me to never give up.

Falling on our face

The other morning I was reading my devotional and the writer shared that in Paul’s writings to the Galatians, it was as if he was holding up a sign that said on one side: “Don’t fall from grace by living under the Law”, and on the other: “Walk in the Spirit”. This resonated with me because over these past several years I’ve been discovering this freedom in walking with the Spirit. I love this, because as we walk in the Spirit, we know we will sometimes fall flat on our face, but we also know we can get up and continue moving forward.

As I was journaling this thought, I was immediately reminded of the time I fell flat on my face while running to train for my first half marathon. It had happened so fast I wasn’t even sure how it happened. However, after I was able to stand up and assess the damage, I came to realize that I had tripped on the sidewalk, propelling me forward. I really wanted to continue that run that day, but upon seeing my reflection and my quickly swelling lip, I decided it was better to rest and pick the run back up another time. I’ve never tripped on that patch of sidewalk again, even though I’ve run that route several times since.

You see, falling is not failure. When we are walking with the Spirit, when we are looking to Him for guidance, we may still fall. We may still scrape our knees and cut open our lips, but because of His grace and mercy we have the space and time to heal. To stand up, dress our wounds, learn from our mistakes, and get back out there. Maybe in the same direction, maybe not. What I’m encouraged by is the knowledge that I am never alone in the moving forward.

2023 Bayshore Half Marathon

So. I ran another half marathon. This is the one I was training with a friend for, only she was not able to run the race due to a foot injury. However, she was sending me cheers from home throughout the race and was surely with me in spirit! Also, the race went as well as could be expected. Would you like to hear all about it? Grab a tasty beverage and sit back.

This particular race, Bayshore, has been kind of a dream of mine ever since I heard of its existence. The race offers 3 distances, the 10k (which I ran last year), the half marathon, and the full marathon. The races are located in Traverse City, Michigan, where my dad’s family essentially called home for many years. The small city is located in northern Michigan and is home to the Old Mission Peninsula, which is flanked by the Grand Traverse Bay. My grandfather owned property on the peninsula, on the West Bay, and my cousins and I spent a week every summer there. We have so many great childhood memories from our time “up north”. We ate cherries, we hiked, we swam, we strolled along the shore searching for Petoskey stones. My husband and I honeymooned at the cottage, sharing my childhood memories and making new ones. We’ve had family reunions there. My paternal grandparents are both now buried on the peninsula. The property my grandfather owned was eventually sold and the cottage is now gone, but a big piece of my heart still lives on Old Mission. So when I learned there was a race that actually allows you to run all over the peninsula? Sign me up! I ran the 10k last year, which was satisfying but slightly disappointing because only a small portion of the race I felt like I was ON the peninsula. The half marathon distance starts at the north end of the peninsula and follows the coastline of the east bay all the way south into town. This was the race for me.

Now I want you to understand that racing for me is terrifying at moments. Not being able to see the start from far away, being unfamiliar with the terrain. It’s not like home where I’ve memorized the potholes and cracks in the roads and sidewalks. My anxiety for this race began building several days before the race. But standing in the chute among all the other runners was somewhat calming. I was finally here. And I had trained for this, I was ready to go. Until I realized I was standing near the wrong pace group, among runners way faster than me. Not to worry, I simply shuffled back until I found my people. As I stood there waiting I checked my phone and realized I had lost my Bluetooth connection to my cochlear implants. It’s a good thing because reconnecting involves taking off my hat in order to remove my left cochlear implant, remove the battery, replace the battery to make it “discoverable”, put it back on my ear, put the hat back on, etc. So I’m glad I had that time to make sure I was connected. I rely on my music playlist to keep me going throughout these long runs.

Once I was situated and connected I got back to bouncing around to keep my legs warm and as I’m bouncing I realize there’s a strange stillness all around me. It occurs to me that everyone is looking in the same direction, some with hands on their hearts. Ah! It must be the National Anthem playing. I hope I didn’t do anything disruptive or disrespectful. It wouldn’t be the first time. No worries, carry on Mel.

I wish I could remember more of the details of this race, but I’ll share with you what I do remember. Coming up the first hill, I marveled at the vineyards stretched out on each side of me, and the East Grand Traverse Bay glistening in the morning sun ahead. The road leading me forward, filled with runners. I don’t want to forget that moment. Or later, coming around a curve to an open expanse, my view filled with brilliant blue water on my left and lush green evergreens on my right. I thought about taking a picture there because it was so freaking gorgeous but it wouldn’t have done it any justice, and it would have taken away from my enjoyment of it. I would have wasted the moment fiddling with my phone, most likely unsuccessful anyway.

I continued running, soaking in the atmosphere and the majestic scenery. All the anxiety had disappeared. I was thanking God for this experience. It was incredible. I felt strong. I was at peace. It wasn’t until I was about 6 miles into the race, that I started to really feel the burn and the soreness of my legs. I still felt strong, and my legs were moving well. That’s also about the time I started to see more and more spectators. Kids giving high fives, dogs wondering why all these people are running in the street. Posters lovingly prepared: DIG DEEP – a POWER button – WORST PARADE EVER. I love these races. You think making a poster and standing at the side of the road isn’t a big deal, but it IS. Without the spectators, it’s just a grueling training run. We NEED these people.

Around the 8th mile I was starting to really struggle because the weather had warmed up quite a bit. I decided to take my shirt off during my next walk break but with the deaf/blind vest and the sweat sticking to my shirt, it took longer than I anticipated. So by the time I got reset I was running through an aid station with a gang of onlookers to my comically awkward process. It didn’t matter. There’s no shame among runners, and these people understand and have likely seen it all. In fact, later in the race I was passed by a woman carrying her shoes, running in her socks to the next aid station. You do what you have to do. So it was a bit of a chore to get that shirt off but it was so worth it to lower my temperature a few degrees. It gave me the rejuvenation I needed to keep going.

The last few miles of the race honestly felt like drudgery and I just wanted to be done but those spectators kept me going! The runners were still moving ahead of me and I just kept reminding myself what I came for, and that was to complete this race. And I did! I finished! I set a new personal record for myself, and I did not fall. Though after the finish I was struggling to walk. My left foot knew we had crossed the finish line and just refused to lift, so I hobbled along the fence line until I saw my husband and kids walking up, all smiles. They escorted me to the recovery area and found me a chair and some ice cream. It was an incredible moment, getting to share this accomplishment with my three favorite people in the world. I tear up just reliving it.

Me, in my bright orange vest, running towards the finish line!

This was such a great race. It was so difficult, but I have to accept that reality because I’m signed up to run my 2nd full marathon in October. Yes, yes I did. I swore I wouldn’t run another one but it turns out I lied. I’m glad I already committed to the marathon, because I think I would have chickened out after this race. It was a sobering reminder of how difficult and painful it is to run a lot of miles, but it was also a good reminder of the immense joy I still find in running.

It’s serendipitous that my devotional this morning actually talked about how we can have joy and pain coinciding. We can feel both simultaneously, and that’s an incredibly mysterious fact of life. There will be pain. Expect it. But also we have in us what it takes to keep moving forward and find joy in the midst of it. I am so grateful that God has sustained me as I continue to run. That He has given me the inner strength to keep challenging myself and doing these ridiculous races that both terrify and thrill me.

Isaiah 40:29-31 ESV “He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

Sweet reminders

Sometimes God sends me little messages to remind me He loves me and that He’s thinking of me. Usually it’s a bunny running across my path while I’m running in the neighborhood, or a deer stopping long enough and close enough for me to see him. I get giddy when I happen to see these things.

Today I spotted this heart shaped water spot on the driveway after taking the trash bin to the curb. Only today I felt less giddy and more comforted. Like God knew I was having a rough couple of days and could use the reminder that He’s always – still – here with me. This disability sh** is a full time job, man. And this week I am feeling beat down. Tired. So this little “love note” was a welcome distraction and comfort.

2 Corinthians 4:8-9 ESV “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;”

The Simple Things

I drafted the following post back in 2017 and I think of the 30 drafts I have stashed over the years, this one still rings true. The good news is that through lots of intensive therapy I have come to find and embrace that self-awareness I was so lacking. I now have a strong sense of what I love and am getting pretty good at embracing it. I praise God every day for the healing He has accomplished in my life.

*****
I sometimes notice the people around me, enjoying things, and it often seems foreign to me. How can they know what they love? It must be really great to have that self-awareness, and to embrace it.

I don’t know if I’m making any sense here, but whatever. All that was to say that lately I’ve been trying to make note of the things that make me smile from the inside, deep down in my soul.

1) Parades. I freaking love parades. I can’t not be giddy watching a parade go by. I think it began when I was introduced to Easter Parade by the girls I used to babysit for. Maybe.

2) Caramel corn. I can’t stop eating the stuff. I lament that any time good snacks come into our home they get eaten before I even realize they are here. Not the caramel corn. That’s all mine. I will wrestle you to the ground for it. And if it has nuts? I’m not afraid to send you to the hospital.

3) Paisley. This is not a new realization, of course. I know I love it, and have for decades, and everyone else knows it too. You could even say that for this list, this one was my first love. It makes my heart flutter. Every time.

4) Led Zeppelin. In particular, Over the Hills and Far Away… something about how it eases you in, seduces you for a minute and a half, and then comes in pounding with those drums. It just gets me every time. There are certainly many other songs to love, like Kashmir, Ocean, or D’yer Mak’er, but Over the Hills was I think what sold me on the band in the first place. And it didn’t hurt that I first started listening to them on vinyl.

5) Sunrises. The rising and setting of the sun are visually similar, and both beautiful, but somehow the rising sun is what really calms my spirit and whispers to my soul. When I am privileged to stop and see the sunrise, I am always, always reminded that the fact that I am here another day is an enormous gift. Oh, and coffee. You can really enjoy a good cup of coffee while staring into the sunrise.
*****

I still love all those things and have added more since then. Sipping bourbon, writing, singing karaoke, dancing in my kitchen, listening to the mourning doves cooing in my backyard, tending to the lilies in my planters. Lots of simple things bring me joy. Things that have always been around but now I’m finally able to notice them and really enjoy them. I’m three seconds away from breaking into a Barbra Streisand song so I’ll stop here. Have a wonderful night, my friends. This week I challenge you to look for joy in the simple things.