A Cake For Autumn

Tonight is the Auction for Autumn Dessert Auction. This is the 3rd year they have put on this event, this is the 3rd year I have donated a decadent cake (or two), and tonight my husband and I have been asked to be honorary guests at this event.

As I’m brushing my hair and attempting to put on some make up, I find my eyes leaking, my throat tightening a little, and my feelings inside a bit of a jumbled mess. There’s a little bit of nerves, dread, humbleness, and utter sadness.

Four years ago this week a beautiful little girl from the small town we live in gained her Heavenly wings. She was beautiful, she was three years old, and she should not have had to come to embrace the arms of Jesus the way she did.

Four years ago this week I was in my first few days of a brand new job as a Communication Manager at a local and growing church. I was in a transition back to part-time work outside our home and having to re-align my full-time, home based cake decorating business. I vividly remember sitting in that new office, at that new desk, in a brand new church facility, hearing the news about little Autumn. I remember laying my head down on my desk and just sobbing, thinking that I had no idea how any family could ever possibly survive the pain of losing a child.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever guessed that within the passing of the next year, a beautiful headstone for our daughter would be carefully placed in the cemetery, a mere fifty feet from the beautiful stone marking where Autumn lay.

Three years ago this week I was a very hurting and grieving mom, who was now transitioning into working full-time at that church, as I had added on the responsibilities of their Facility Manager to my already part-time Communications Manager position.

After losing our daughter earlier that spring, I had canceled all my wedding cakes, I had stopped taking any new cake orders, and I had taken the entire summer off from my slightly out-of-control cake business in hopes to spend time with my family, to grieve, to heal, to try find some sense and direction in my very lost little world.

During that first summer off from cakes, my family had the gift of an amazing little place of rest and healing at a small campground in Minnesota. Over that season I would meet one of our camping neighbors just a few campers down from ours … Autumn’s dear grandma, Shirley. God brought her and I together in that same place, both lost and disparately grasping for healing and hope and understanding. God clearly had us both there for a reason. That summer we began a connection, a friendship, a bond that would only grow throughout the following years.

Three years ago this week I had basically quit cakes entirely, and I had no idea what I would do now that the summer was over. God had been very clear I was to take some time off from my cake business that summer, but He had been very quiet as to for how long and what He was wanting me to do next.

Then one day I was approached and asked if I would consider donating a cake to an Auction for Autumn Dessert Auction. In the year following the loss of little Autumn, the local Season’s Center had begun the work of opening a center in Spencer, Iowa to serve northwest Iowa children and their families. The Season’s Center is dedicated to helping families and children heal from life’s struggles by providing life-changing behavioral health services to those in need. One of the fund raisers to help get the organization off the ground was going to be a fancy dessert auction. I remember desperately wanting to say no, but also knowing I absolutely needed to say yes.

It was the one, lone, single order in my cake schedule. October 31st. As the date got closer and closer I did not want to get out that mixer and those cake pans. I didn’t want to make any frosting or fill any decorator tubes and open my box of decorator tips. But I did. I found myself standing there in my kitchen that day, looking at that naked cake in front of me, wondering what to even do with it.  It was waiting for me to figure out how to decorate it. Waiting for me to figure out what I was going to do with my life when it came to me and my cake business.

Who would even be interested in a Sara Crane Cake any more anyways?

I went through the long ingrained motions that come from over fifteen years of cake decorating, and I simply decorated it as elegantly as I could. I put it in my van, delivered it, and I walked away.

The following Monday at work I overheard a few rumblings at the amount some of the cakes went for at the auction. I was blown away to find out my one little, simple chocolate cake brought in over four figures for the Autumn Center. I again found myself with my head on my desk sobbing. There was no way I would have ever had the means to be able to write out a donation check for that amount… but God had granted me the ability to bake and decorate a really yummy chocolate cake. I had merely handed over this little cake, something small that I had been able to say yes to… and it, in turn, had been the means to something so much bigger.

I was so incredibly humbled and overwhelmed as that reality came to rest on me in that moment.

God had loudly spoken to me right then and there, clearly showing me that I was to continue with my cake decorating business. But … it would absolutely have to look different than it had in the past, when I had allowed myself to work around the clock. I was absolutely not to quit making special sweet treats just yet, but I would need to figure out a different line of boundaries for it in my life.
From that day on, I began trying to figure out what this new cake thing would look like, and it slowly began to evolve into a specialty cupcake line… Cupcakes I could make and sell when it worked for me, amid my time at work and time with my family. I decided I needed to continue to take the summers off in order to fully invest in my rest, my health, my healing, and most importantly - time with my family.

God would continue to bless me and my tiny cake business, and it continued to be evident to me that while my sweet treats were an incredibly small thing, they also were becoming an incredibly meaningful small way of blessing others as well as myself. I am always blown away at the behind the scenes things I get to be a part of. Every week there are people who cover the cost of other peoples cupcakes to bless them. Every week there are people who buy cupcakes to give away, buy cupcakes merely to treat themselves because they are worth celebrating, buy cupcakes to help celebrate the big milestones as well as the ho-hum every day in their lives and their family's lives.

So, here I am, three years later, and there are three fancy cakes that I just delivered to the local Event Center a few hours ago. I am dressed and ready to go be a part of this incredibly hard, incredibly emotional, and incredibly impactful evening for the Autumn Center.

I’m quietly sitting here also knowing this event is in a very small way an incredibly impactful, hard, and emotional evening for what it represents for me, for my family, and for the continue venture and blessing of my tiny little cake business.

Had I not been asked to donate a cake three years ago, there’s a very good chance I would have never taken out a cake or cupcake pan again, I would have never made another batch of frosting, I would have never filled another decorator bag again, I would have never again used the gifts and talents God has gifted me with in a grander scale of meaning and blessing.

But I was asked, and I faithfully obeyed the “yes” that I clearly heard God telling me three years ago. I would also clearly hear the “yes” God was telling me that I needed to continue forward with with my cake business, though slightly different that before (ok maybe “drastically different than before” is a more appropriate term).

Many people continue to ask if I’m still doing cakes… my answer is always a yes, and a no. Yes I am, but no, not to the scale of business I had built and created before. I take a few orders, I make a few cupcakes, and I continue to get to be a very small part of a much larger scale of blessing and opportunity to and through many. I say yes to some things, I say no to a lot of things. I am merely trying to faithfully be a sweet blessing where I can be.

I sit in tears amid the many emotions within me right now as the time ticks closer. I know tonight is going to be a hard night for me, hard for everyone, on many levels.

This is an organization and event that shouldn't even be happening tonight. The dear Autumn this is all in honor and remembrance of should be out enjoying this beautiful autumn day playing in the leaves. We should not be at home getting ready. We should not all be gathering tonight to bid on fancy cakes to raise funds and awareness for child abuse.

But Autumn didn't get to laugh in the leaves this afternoon, and we are going to come together tonight to try make a small impact. I'm sad, I’m incredibly honored, and I’m utterly humbled to be such a small part in their story. I'm sad, I’m incredibly honored, and I’m utterly humbled that they are all also such a large part in my story.

God is good. God is still good even in the incredibly hard and unfair things. God is good and He's still clearly at work in the lives and journeys of all of us, as He continues to weave together so many of our stories, our lives, and our journeys in ways and reasonings we will never fully know, or grasp, or understand.

I’ve witnessed God continually create good out of that which isn’t always so good. Tonight I take a few moments to fully thank Him again for His blessings amid the pain, amid the hard, amid the hurt.

I realize a fancy cake filled with chocolate and calories and flavorful decadence won’t miraculously change the world, but it hopefully will help sweeten some of those many many messy blessings.

{ Previous blog post "Here's What's Next" HERE }

Here's What's Next

For the last week I’ve kind of been wresting with that infamous “What’s next?!?” question in my mind.

For nine months I focused and diligently trained to run a half marathon. I am not a runner and I’m not an athlete, but I actually completed a 13.1 run one week ago today. I got up and conquered so many things that morning, and that night I went to bed asking the quiet question “What’s next?!?”

No one other than myself is really expecting an answer from me, and to be honest I have a feeling my husband and family and friends are almost holding their breath in dread as to what my next big “what’s next” is actually going to be. What am I going to think I have to do… have to accomplish… have to prove… have to commit to next? What kind of time commitment and expense is it going to require? What kind of inconvenience and annoyance am I going to impose this time?

Ok, I don’t actually know if that’s what my husband and family and friends are thinking, but in my mind it’s what I’ve convinced myself is going on in their minds. My husband has been a rockstar supporter of me since I’ve met him. My family has been rockstar supporters of me since I took my first breath of life nearly forty-three years ago. But I’m never quite sure just how far or how long they are willing to go with and give me… Diving in, digging into, hurting, healing, changing, growing, training, all take in incredible amount of time and attention to the one embarked upon the journey… it also takes an incredible amount of time and attention from those supporting those embarking upon that journey.

Everyone around me is probably all praying, pleading, begging that I finally start moving on to something else, something different… something beyond my health, beyond my running, beyond myself.

While in my head I have myself convinced what everyone is hoping I do (or don’t do) next, I myself honestly didn’t know what I really wanted to do next. The more I thought about it, the more I just kept coming back to the thought that I know I’m not going to be able to run forever, I’m not going to be strong and healthy forever. I’m not going to be this dedicated and disciplined forever. But for some reason for today, for this current season, God has in fact granted me health and determination. He has allowed me to taste accomplishment and achievement at a degree and level in which I’ve never experienced before.

While I realize I’ve more than likely already topped out at my peak, my finest, my greatest, my highest… I still deep within feel a continued drive to merely continue on as I have been for the past year. Continue forward with my perseverance, continue forward with what simply seems to be currently working for me.  Continue on with the healing, the processing, the finding of who I really am, what I'm really made of, and what my full purpose is in life.

While I was in the bath two nights ago a thought came to me (I cannot tell you how many of my life's grand whispers happen to me in the bathroom... eyeroll I know, but it's the truth)... Well, my next date and distance goal just randomly popped into my mind. This is usually how it works for me… I hear the small still voice, and I just know that’s what the next plan needs to be. I’ve decided to set a few new time frames, a few new dates to schedule my days and thoughts around, and it came to me quite clearly what my next plans and goals for 2018 are going to be.

First, I am going to rest from race training for a little while. I will still run, I will still elliptical, but I will not follow a training schedule for a few weeks. No double digit mileages, no racing against the clock and my mind vs body for speed and endurance for the next two months.

After my Friday night bathtub epiphany, I went online yesterday and signed up to run a half marathon on Saturday, March 10, 2018. I will hopefully be able to celebrate my forty-third birthday with a half marathon completion metal around my neck and a running bib pinned to my shirt. This morning I printed out blank calendar pages from today through March 2018. I sat down and filled out each and every day from today until March 10th. I first did this back in February and filled in all the days through October 15th. I have daily looked, completed, and crossed off my training goals every day since.

I plugged in short runs, long runs, interval days, walk days, rest days, elliptical days… similar to what I’ve been successfully doing for the last nine months. The only tricky part is… well, I live in Iowa. And in case you aren’t familiar with winter in Iowa, it’s well… cold and entirely unpredictable weather-wise. I don’t enjoy running outside in the cold, and I don’t enjoy running inside on my treadmill. I plan to probably have to train inside, and I’m going to start praying right now for an incredible blessing of sun, no wind, and temps above 52º that March 10th morning. (52º is my magical outside running threshold number ~LOL) I have no idea how I will actually train for a half marathon during the winter.

Approximately twelve weeks after my birthday there is a half marathon in Zimbrota Minnesota that starts and ends at a covered bridge. (My half marathon training is a twelve week schedule, so perfect timing, right?!)  I have an absolute love of covered bridges, and that run has actually been on my bucket list for quite a while now. I haven’t officially registered for that race yet, but that is large goal number two for 2018. My friend and I mayyyy have also possiblyyyy already re-booked our hotel and masseuses for the DesMoines IMT half marathon again for next October. If I run that race again, I will be able to take some training time off during June and July next summer, which sounds divine.

Basically, I guess I’m just going to plan to keep on getting up and doing it. I have been faithfully setting my alarm night after night and getting up morning after morning, day after day, month after month, for the past year now. I am in a rhythm, a pattern, a habit. I feel I need to simply continue on… keep going… keep doin’ what i’ve been doin’ … at least until God shows me another path I’m supposed to turn off on to. I don’t know how long this season will last, I don’t know how long this road will wind and curve and turn, what hills and road blocks I will encounter along the way. I don’t know how long my body will hold the strength and health it currently holds… but for now - I am going to simply continue onward.

Onward with trust and a humble gratefulness. I know this is beyond my own willpower.

Have I come to love running? Hells no. I still hate to run, I still look at the penciled number on my calendar every morning and inwardly groan… dreading having to lace up my shoes and actually get out there and get the miles in, get the workout checked off. No, I do not enjoy running, and I don’t feel I am good at, and honestly the thought of having to run another 13.1 miles makes my insides just utterly groan and recoil… And yet, despite how much I dislike it, I do feel as if it is still my current journey to push to and through, to persevere towards, to fight through, to battle tooth and nail through every thought and every step.

While I may not have come to love running, I have come to love the feeling of determination, and perseverance and trust and humbleness. And I know for some odd reason there is a purpose to this continued journey right now and God is clearly on the road next to me.

I know there are some who are rolling their eyes and thinking, please just be quiet already about your damn running and your darn health. I cover my heart and lower my eyes and ask for your forgiveness… It’s old and annoying, I know… I get it. Believe me - I get it… if you think hearing me talk about it all the time is bad - try be the one getting up and actually doing the dirty work, the blood, sweat, and tears of it all every single day, day after day. Now THAT gets old and annoying! If you don’t believe me, let me challenge you to simply join me! I promise I will be your biggest fan, and I will cheer you on every hard and painful step of the way. {wink}

So I guess here’s what’s next… A few new dates, a few new goals, and hopefully a whole lot more days, miles, and words of vulnerability and encouragement to share with you.

And with that, I bid you a goodnight… my alarm is set for 4:20 a.m. tomorrow morning, and there’s a number four penciled on tomorrow’s calendar date. New day, new goal… same journey, same me.

{ Previous Blog Post "What's Next?" HERE }

What's Next

I’m sitting here in silence. Pre-dusk utter silence, on the morning after running a half marathon.

I’m still in Des Moines, still in a gloriously quiet and fancy hotel, still on a small break from being the mom and wife and job juggler for just a few more hours. I also know that the clock is continuing to tick, and before I know it we will be checking out, traveling home, and I will be walking back into the reality of what I left behind Saturday morning.

I’m sipping some coffee, doing my devotions, scrolling through social media… and I find myself sitting here less than twenty four hours after checking something huge off my bucket list, my life goal list, my “I can’t believe I actual did that” list… and I’m already wondering… What’s next?

What is next for me? October 15, 2017 was my “what’s next” for the last nine months of my life. It’s what I thought about, it’s what I worked towards, it’s what I trained for. It’s what got me up in the morning, it’s what got me to bed on time at night. It’s what helped me eat clean, try hard, push myself, put in the hours and miles. It’s what helped me grow, change, and believe in myself.

It was a distinct moment in my current Journey to Faith.

Am I a different person today at 7:30 a.m. than I was yesterday at 7:30 a.m. before I run and completed that race? No. I am still the same person, I am still in the same body, I still have the same mind. I still don't consider myself athletic, I still don’t consider myself perfect or arrived or complete. I know I will still continue to battle my weight, my will, my desires, my motivation, my perseverance, my drive, and my willpower.

I know myself and I am fully aware that this is a moment when I could be done, when I could quit, when I could walk away and not ever look back. This is also a moment when I could decide to not be done, when I could choose to not quit, to not walk away and be done. This is a moment when I need to decide which fork in the road I am going to take next. The road back to the old me, or the road continuing on with this current me.

When I came back to the hotel after the race yesterday I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stopped. I stood there and really looked at myself in the mirror. This is something I never do… never.

The person looking back at me, at that very moment, was the me that is probably going to be the best me that will ever exist.  I found it a jumbled mix of humbling, sobering, exciting, scary, and sad.

Yesterday very well could have been that one day when the stars of my life all aligned, and for a few brief hours I was the very best I am ever going to be. Yesterday, very likely, is a day that I may never reach again, a day that I surely will never again accomplish greater than. I ran farther and faster than I will probably ever be able to accomplish ever again. I am at a weight and fitness level I will probably never be able to maintain for this length of time again. I am at a spiritual and mental place of acceptance and peace that I will probably also never be able to maintain for this long again.

I continued to look in the mirror at that post race me, still in my running clothes and tennis shoes, battling between a post race high and absolute mental and physical exhaustion, still trying to grasp and process the magnitude of what exactly had just all happened, what exactly I had just all done and accomplished. And I had no idea what's next.

Where does one go from in that exact moment in life? What next step(s) do you take when you are more than likely standing at the very tippy top of all your greatest accomplishments and you know it’s only downhill from there?

I don’t honestly know what’s next… but I am continuing to realize that I am not defined by the weight on the scale, the number of miles in my running app, or the speed of those miles I run. I am not defined by the size of clothes I wear, the number of workouts I do in a week, the number of calories I consume in a day. I am defined by the choices I make surrounding all those areas.

I am defined by the steps of my journey along the way as I travel from one “what’s next” to the next “what’s next.” I am defined by the choices I make at the pivotal crossroads in the milestone moments like right now.

I have learned, for me, I do need to have a “what’s next…” as I seem to do best (or certainly better) with a designated dream, goal, plan, target event date.

Will I run another half marathon? I’m honestly not sure… but more than likely I probably will, if my body and health allow me. Will I continue to get up every morning at 4:20 a.m. and seize the potential of the day and start my day with discipline, exercise, and devotions? I don’t actually know, but I sure hope so. I sure plan to.
I’m not sure “what’s next” on the large scale timeline of my life, on an exact date and distance scale… but today, right now, I am going to tell myself that I am going to commit myself to something… I will commitment myself to something small, something medium, and something large to strive for, to train for, to set my mind on, to believe in, to push towards.

I do not want to let yesterday be an ending. I’m not going to let today not be the start towards something new, something great, something hard. I’m not going to lose everything I worked for to get me to yesterday by turning the page to today without a clear “what’s next.”

Today I will enjoy the silence and the rest for just a few more hours. Tomorrow I will set my alarm for 4:20 a.m. and I will have my exercise and work clothes both neatly laid out and ready for me. I will get up and start my “what’s next” … even if I’m not exactly sure what that is going to be just yet.

But my “what’s next” will include a “what’s next.” I will not be done now that this “what’s next” is actually now a "what's done".

What’s next for you? Do you know? Let’s spend some time in thought and prayer and earnestly listen to the whisper within. Listen and do not be afraid of what you hear. Reach out for it, go for it, work for it, believe in it… You can do it, you can accomplish great things, and you are worth it. I will do the same… and I promise I will keep you posted as to what I hear, and what my next “what’s next” is going to be.

{ Previous Blog post "October 15, 2017" HERE }

October 15, 2017

It’s October 15, 2017.

Today was officially my Half Marathon race day. Today was also National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Two incredibly big things collided in my incredibly small world. Two very significant things in my life, which happen to have already been incredibly linked and woven in and throughout each other on this incredible Journey To Faith that I have been on the last two and a half years.

I know I’ve said this so many times before, but I honestly don’t consider myself a “real” runner. I don’t consider myself a “real” athlete. All my life I’ve battled my weight and I have never excelled or enjoyed any sports or any kind. I was not athletic or popular in school. I didn’t enjoy gym class, and the day we had to run the mile run every year in gym, was probably the worst day of thee entire year. I had perfect attendance from Kindergarten through HS Graduation (yes… I know, I’m a total freak), and that mile run day was honestly a day I always considered skipping school for every single year, which I knew would break my perfect attendance. I obviously never did… but oh I thought about it and wanted to! Four laps around the track at the college football field. Four horrible and long and agonizing laps. Four laps… one mile.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought I would have found the courage, the determination, the desire, the grit, to actually run anything longer than one mile. Let alone thirteen point one miles… all in a row… without stopping once. People, that is fifty two and a half laps around a college football field! I cannot even wrap my mind around that.

I graduated from High School, and I continued to battle my weight and decided to start trying to run slowly every once-in-a-while — merely as a way to burn even more calories at a faster rate. I hated every step, I never made it far, I never ran between early fall and late spring.

And then my feet began to bother me, and my weight began to increase, and my running and exercising all came to a screeching halt. And then my life basically came to a screeching halt the day I found out I was nearly forty and pregnant, after sixteen years of infertility, with a daughter that carried Trisomy 18 and would never come home with us.

I was so sick physically, mentally, and spiritually, and there were many days I wished I had actually died with her… even through deep inside of course I was so grateful my life had been spared during her delivery, and deep inside I knew God was somehow still “good” and that for whatever reason this was somehow part of the "plan" for my life, and I was going to need to figure out how to trust and heal and move on.

It was an incredibly long and dark season of loss, despair, depression, defeat for me. I struggled with anger and bitterness and I harbored much animosity towards God and the world. I drug myself through season after season after that loss, filled with so much dark and so much ugly. I was not very lovable, I was not very happy, I was not very fun or pleasant to be around.

But God continued to love me, and He continued to hug me tight to Him, even while I disparately tried to push Him far away. My friends and family continued to love me and hug me tight, even while I disparately tried to push them away as well.

And one day, I finally started listening, started processing, started releasing. It has been a long, slow, and incredibly difficult journey for me. I still have so far yet to go. Every day I wake up and battle the day. Luckily, right now, most days I’m winning a little bit more than I’m losing. Not every day… but most days.

And with this slow change and shift I also started to realize that I need to love and forgive myself. I need to continue to figure out how to process and work through the black and the sticky and the mire of my life and my past, so I am able to more fully step forward into my present and my future.

I decided that to love myself was to perhaps allow myself the time and the patience and courage to change. And not just a little bit of change… a really big drastic type of change, and I began to process and work through many parts of my physical, mental, and spiritual life. I began to give myself the grace I had never allowed myself in the past. The grace of imperfection, the grace of mediocrity, the grace of forgiveness, the grace of lowered expectations.

And here’s the interesting thing that began to happen… the more grace I granted and allowed myself to feel and process through, the more I actually felt myself grow and strengthen. I began to battle my guilt, and my perfectionism issues, and my anger and disappointments in the life God had granted me thus far. I began to look at my journey through a slightly different light… through a lens of reasoning, a lens of acceptance… acceptance of myself, acceptance of God, and acceptance of others around me.

I began to doctor for the pain in my feet. I began to make healthier eating choices. I began to write more, process more, read my Bible more, pray more. And I began to run again. Never fast, never far… always hard, always horrible, always a mental battle of will vs strength.

Months and months went by. My body continued to heal and strengthen after my illness and loss. Friendships and relationships were made and deepened through honestly and vulnerability. I began to honestly share my story of Faith a little more openly, I began to be openly more vulnerable and real, less hiding, less avoiding. I began to be a safe place of connection for many people. And it was always just as much a blessing for me as it was for them.

I continued to run for a few minutes at a time on my treadmill in the basement. I continued to eat healthy. I continued to forgive and fight through lots of internal personal junk that was taking it’s tole on my body and my attitude externally and spiritually.

And then one day my eye had a little twitch. And it was still twitching three weeks later… and well… that annoying little twitch led to some pretty amazing conversations and connections with someone I knew of, but really didn’t know. God used that annoying little eye twitch to become the connecting point to a relationship that would change my life.

I would process an idea, and take on the incredibly insane notion that maybe someday I would like to try run a half marathon. But I was not a runner, and I was not athletic. So I was quite confused as to where this little nudge, this inner whisper, was coming from and why.

And then one Saturday in February, in a moment of weakness, I actually signed up to run the same half marathon my friend had already signed up to run on January 1st. I signed up online to run a Half Marathon on October 15, 2017. I’m quite confident I didn’t actually think I would really run it, but it sounded good at the moment.

My friend sent me the Half Marathon for Beginners training schedule. It was much easier than the one I had attempted to follow four years earlier, when I had given up and quit the day I couldn’t get in an eight mile run. I printed it out. I printed out blank calendar pages from February through October. I filled in the numbers from schedule onto the calendar. I decided to start training the following morning, and I would cycle through the 12 week schedule three times to get me to race day.

And you know what… I did it. I really really did it. I put in the work and the workouts needed every single week from that day until today. We purchased an elliptical.  I moved from my treadmill to running outside.  My running began to slowly get longer and faster. It was ridiculously hard to find the time and the willpower to actually follow the numbers and days on that training schedule. But I did it. I did it despite the fact I work two jobs, despite the fact I have two kids, despite the fact I am a mom and wife busy with laundry and cooking and cleaning and all those daily things that I’d let stand in my way up until this season in my life.

God gave me the healing, the power, the endurance, the desire, the will power to actually do the training. The weeks continued to tick away. The months continued to flip by. The training continued, and continued, and continued. And it was hard… so hard, physically and emotionally. But for some reason God kept waking me up, kept pushing me out there to push me beyond the limits I thought I would never reach.

September turned into October. October 1 became October 5, and suddenly race day was in my ten day forecast on my weather app. For some reason that really struck home for me. It was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon. And suddenly I was filled with doubt and dread. Suddenly I wanted to quit in the worst way… Suddenly I was battling my worth and fearing my lack of endurance and strength.  Suddenly I was questions God true intent for me in this current season in my life.

This week was a hard week for me to process through… but like it had all spring and summer long… the days continued to slip on by, and before I knew it I was packing for the weekend, I was getting picked up for the weekend, I was arriving at the hotel for the weekend.

And then I went to bed and I woke up and it was October 15.

It was time to get dressed, it was time to pin on the bib with the numbers 5920 onto the front of my shirt, it was time to lace up the shoes that had already carried me for miles and miles this summer. And then it was time to leave the hotel and walk to the race route. And then it was time to get lost in the sea of people and get lined up.

And then it was time to start the music app, start the running app, start the race watch, and start to actually run the race. The moment I had been working for had finally arrived.

I was terrified, I was nervous, I was excited, I was filled with dread, I was anxious.
But oddly enough, I was rather calm, and was also ready.

I was ready for the race to just start. I was ready to take on the challenge of running that fateful 13.1 distance. I was also just ready for it to be finished and behind me, whatever the results, however it might go. I tried to hold as little expectation as I could, and I tried to assure myself it wasn’t actually about how today went, it was about how the journey to today has gone. It’s about what I’ve learned, what I’ve overcome, what I’ve battled through, what I’ve lost, what I’ve gained, what I’ve accomplished through the time and training that got me to the actual race day today.

Today I remembered the loss and life and love of our dear little Faith MaryJo - and in her memory and honor I trained and I ran the race set before me with perseverance and with my eyes fixed on Jesus. I ran 13.1 miles surrounded by thousands and thousands of other runners and spectators, up hills, down hills, around corners, over rivers, besides skyscrapers. I ran 13.1 miles without stopping and I actually crossed the finish line.

Yes, I started and finished a real half marathon today. I did it, I really did it.

I did something I once thought was completely impossible. But as it says in Matthew 19:26 “With God all things are possible.” I accomplished, and persevered, and overcame, and I did not do it alone, and I cannot take any of the credit. God granted me healing and drive… my friends and family granted me time and support and encouragement to train.  They believed in me and encouraged me to believe in myself.

On March 27, 2015 I may have lost a child and thought I’d lost the world, but in that loss I would also come to gain more than I could have ever imagined… and would actually come to gain back not only my life, but the entire world as well.

{ Next blog Post "What's Next" here }
{ Previous blog "It's Race Week" here }

It's Race Week

Wow. It's race week.

I think I signed up for this bad boy way back in February. Long before I printed out that pink training schedule that I've looked at every single day since. Long before I ever put in my first double digit milage workout. Long before I ever imagined that I would actually go through with actually training for it…

And well, it's almost here.  Race day is officially in the ten day forecast on my weather app.  This "poop" is gett'n real folks.

I am again filled with so many emotions. Highs and lows. Fears and excitements. So much dread and demons of doubt. Satan is so busy chipping away at my confidence and my self worth… convincing me that yet again, in yet another area of my life… I am not enough. I’m not athletic enough. I’m not strong enough. I’m not fast enough. I haven’t trained enough. If I have to walk I won’t be fast enough. If I don’t finish I won’t be endurant enough.

Part of me actually carries a confidence that I will be able to run and complete this race on Sunday. Part of me has a set little secret race pace number in the back of my mind that I want to complete it in. Part of me is fighting that number disparately praying to add at least thirteen more minutes on to it. Part of me is fearful of this confidence, afraid of the failure that might unexpectedly still overcome me. What if I don’t finish? What if I don’t complete it? What if something in my body gives out, what if my mind shuts down and gives up the fight of will vs might? What if… what if… what if…

Oh I’m good at that “what if…” game! I have a mind with a million scenarios continually in play, pause, repeat… over and over and over again. And I’m getting really good at trying to downplay the importance and significant and magnitude of what this day, this race, actually means to me deep down, deep within. I’m finding myself at a point that I don’t even want to talk about it, I don’t want to post anything on social media about it, I don’t want to allow myself to even think about it. Downplay, underplay, hide… and then if I do do badly it maybe won’t be as big, as noticeable, as devastating.

Right now my left hip hurts. My right shoulder hurts. My left ankle has this odd little twinge in it. I have this weird something that just materialized between two of my toes. My bunions are bothering me. The vacuum fell out of the closet this morning and the handle landed across the top foot bone of my right foot. And the forecast… well the forecast continues to look colder and wetter and windier every time of look at it.

I don’t do running in cold, and wet, and wind. Especially 13.1 miles in cold, and wet, and wind. It’s just another knife jab at my already high dread and anxiety level. And did I mention that rumor has it that they are expecting over ten thousand people to be part of this event this weekend. I will need to mill and mingle in a crowd of ten thousand people. That about does this introverted non-runner's little anxiety level in.

And if I’m honest, there’s also a part of me that is already quietly wondering about that whole “what’s next” question… What is next for me? I started training for this race over a half a year ago… I’ve cycled through that pink training sheet three times since then. Once I ran the 13.1 distance. When I got to that day in the training schedule for the second time I decided to run / walk 3:1 for the distance of a full 26.2 marathon. And then I cycled through it all one more time… one more time, which has brought me to today. What will I do next week? Will I quit running? Will I gain all the weight back that I’ve lost?

After today is three more quick days… three more days and I will wake up and have to face a cold, possibly miserable morning of running of all ungodly things. Running. Why in heaven’s name did I think I should do this… that I COULD even do this?!? What was I thinking!?! Oh dear heavens I wish I was still a quitter… still one that could easily allow myself to stand back and watch rather than dive in and move from spectator to participant.

Participant. Yes, I will be one of the thousands standing out there at the start line with a little white piece of paper carefully pinned to the front of my shirt. On Sunday, I will merely be a number lost and restless in the sea of faces and feet.

No one there will be watching me. No on there will be on the sidelines cheering me on. No one other than myself will actually really care one iota about the fact that I am even running in this race.

So why am I even doing this?!? That seems to be the million dollar question right now… The sticky icing on the sweet cake layer below. Why am I even doing this?!?!

The black and white answer of course is … well, because I can. I have two legs, ten toes, two arms, and all the other muscles and bones from the tip of my head to the tip of my toes that are all capable to function together as one, to get me from point A to point B… which will just happen to be 13.1 miles apart. I have a body that is, for the most part, healthy and able to move together. I have a mind that is for the most part healthy and able to drive my body to move together. I have a reason to celebrate, a reason to work hard, a reason to move forward, a reason to attempt to accomplish.

But is that the real reason? I actually have no idea. I made a friend through this process… a friend who is going to actually be running out there with me. I’m maybe not doing it for her, but I am definitely grateful to be doing it with her. Am I doing it for myself, to prove something to myself? Am I doing it for someone else, to prove something to them? Am I doing it for God, to prove myself through honor and celebration to Him? Again, I honestly don’t know the answer. (I'm assuming it's probably a little colorful combination of all three.)

And while I maybe don't know exactly why it is I'm running, I do know that I am more than likely actually going to attempt to run it. Regardless of the weather conditions, regardless of the mental state of my mind, or the physical state of my body… I’m fairly certain I am going to arrive, get my race packet, and stand at the start line with a mob of others. Will I finish? Will I finish well? Will I be happy with my finish? Only time will tell… Only time will tell. And really, it’s only me, myself, and I that I am left to battle that out with.

Until then, I will continue forward planning and packing and attempting to get a family ready to be without a mom and wife for just a few days… you know that whole game of working like a dog to get a tiny bit ahead before you walk out the door, because you know without a shadow of a doubt you will walk back in that same door two days later and immediately be so incredibly behind.

Moms going away is rarely worth it… and all this to go away to run in a long, hard, horrible race. Seriously what in the world was I thinking? If I was a quitter I’d back out now, before even leaving town. But I don't want to be the quitter that I sometimes can be… Today I will choose to carry on with this plan that I’ve been working towards for days and weeks and months. Today I will go along with the flow…

I will pack the bags, pack the shoes, pray the prayers, battle the demons, and hopefully simply get myself to that terrifying start line by 7:59 a.m. Sunday morning.

{ Next blog post "October 15, 2017" HERE }

{ Previous blog post "Crabby Patty" HERE }

Crabby Patty

I'm kind of a life hater right now. A Debbie downer. A negative Nancy. A crabby Patty.... need I go on?!?

I don't want to be a mom. I don't want to be a wife. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to get up and exercise. I don't want to count the points and think about the food in my hands heading to my mouth. I don't want to shower. I don't want to do spelling words and homework. I don’t want to turn the corner and battle the drop off zone at school. I don't want to turn my ovens on to cook or bake anything.

It's raining again today, there's pink cupcake competition all over Facebook again today, there's horrific news all over the tv again today, there's weight gain on my scale again today, there's sass and disrespect from my nine year old again today. And there was coffee grounds in my coffee today. I mean come on now, really?!?!

How does one go forward... how does one be positive in the world and in life right now? I mean really, what does one do, what does one turn to, what does one cling to when all the world is a mess, when all the minutes are heavy, when all the calm is now chaos?

There are so many outlets, so many options that help dim the reality, dull the ache... The electronic numbing, the negative social media feeding, the poor choices of what we eat, drink, take in, or leave out of our bodies. The toxic thoughts and razor sharp responses that leap from our tongues before stopping to consider their repercussions. So many avenues and areas of denial and blindness.

Some days I have it in me to fight it, some days I don't. Today obviously I don't. And I'm not sure why and I'm not sure what to even do about it.

It's not that I'm in manic depression, I'm not suicidal. I'm not not going to leave my family, no one is in danger. I don't need to be rushed to the ER, or to a shrink, or be heavily medicated. This isn't a cry for help... It's just life.

It's just normal ebbs and flows, ups and downs of living life in our fallen and broken world. Today I'm in a funk, in a low, in a bit more of a fight of good vs evil.

And of course I know WHO to turn to, WHO to cling to, WHO to come before with my earnest plea of restoration and recovery. And of course I know WHAT I have to do, WHAT I have to turn from, WHAT I need to avoid.

Everyone has their own vices, their own demons they turn to when life gets tricky and the world feels icky. For me, I need to stay off social media, turn off the tv, stay out of the kitchen, open the Bible, nod my head in prayer... real prayer... earnest prayer... not just the flippant lip service prayer we offer and never actually follow through with, and overcome the nagging guilt from indulging in self care, soul care, and self preservation. I need to steer clear from the drama, avoid the negativity and just keep moving forward, one step at a time.

Of course all is easier said than done... but I think just openly admitting that I'm in a place I don't enjoy, I don't like, I don't want to be is just one huge step towards realigning my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions, my discontent. It’s ok to wallow… for a while. And then we need to make another cup of coffee, call a spade a spade, and just throw in the towel and walk away for a while.

This too shall pass. God is still good. Life is still awesome. And Lord knows I am still blessed beyond belief.

I’m just going to choose to be a little Crabby Patty just a little longer over here in my grumpy little corner… at least until that fresh grounds-free cup of coffee is finished perking over there in its happy little corner. ;-)

{ Next blog post "It's Race Week" HERE }
{ Previous blog post "Last Weekend At The Lake" HERE }