Waterstop

I’ve never ran a marathon. Well, not one with tennis shoes on my feet and numbers pinned to my chest, anyway. But I have ran the kind that life throws your way without even registering for. My grandmother’s struggle with Alzheimer’s. That was a dang marathon. My divorce. Having two kids in diapers at one time and getting them ready for church solo three times a week for years on end… Mar.a.freakin.thon.

As I wake up in the guest room at my dear friend’s house, I am grateful for the respite from the everyday. In the midst of travel planning, life planning, heart planning and soul planning opportunities that come with empty nesting, being unemployed, and searching the deepest parts of me to decide what is next that best allows me to live my truest truth, waking up in my dear friend’s guest room, listening to birds and being surrounded by love… it feels like a water stop on a marathon. One of those split seconds where a person chooses to stand alongside your path while you give it your all and run your race, just so they can toss a Dixie cup of electrolytes your way.

Life is a marathon, dear friends. Sometimes the race is on wildflower-strewn paths with sunny skies and surrounded by love. Sometimes it is beeping monitors in a hospital room, or high school graduations, scrubbing stains out of laundry or walking barefoot on the beach. Sometimes we’re the runner and sometimes we’re the one giving out Dixie cups.

What’s your marathon right now, Dear Ones? Are you running, passing out Gatorade and cheering others on, or both?

Wherever you are on your race this morning, run well. There’s a bend in the road just up ahead and there’ll be a shady spot to stop a moment and rest. Then, keep going.

Today, I am grateful for friends, family, faith, tiny cups of humanity and large sun rays of connection as we journey along.

Refreshed, running, grateful at the water stop—

R