The Wurglers

 Runners are crazy.  Absolutely crazy.  Who submits their body to such distances?!!  Who pushes through pain... just to run?!!  Who shows up undertrained with an air quality index of over 400 to run a half marathon?!  Thousands and thousands of crazy... and dare I say foolish people!  Including me.  When I woke up and cursed the pollution I vowed to only run 10K of the race.  But then the race started... and I was wearing a mask... and I was swept away by the insanity.  Ten kilometers came and went and I was still going.  I felt better in this race than I had in my races from years ago.  So I just kept going.  And I finished!  It felt so good to cross the finish line... especially because I thought a half marathon was 20K and so when I hit 18K and shifted into gear (you know, I always save something for the end) and then 20K came... and we were still running.... and it was brutal... and confusing I might add.  ...

This past weekend we had a team retreat that took us to the mountains outside our city. About a 1.5 hour drive north of us, you can actually breathe clean air and see beautiful scenery - a place of refuge away from the concrete jungle we live in. Sara and the kids and I took off together one morning to do a little hiking. We heard of some trails around our little motel and were determined to find one. The morning was beautiful: cool air, blue skies, the turning colors of autumn, a slight breeze. All the things our hearts have been needing lately. We set off up a hill and hiked (more like dawdled if you're a Wurgler boy whose name rhymes with "laymen") for a while. Evie made it her personal mission to pluck every helpless flower along the way and gift it to one of the family members. Emma talked about various things ranging from Grandma and Grandpa coming to visit next week to her new friend she made at the motel to the beauty of the outdoors. Sara and I encouraged Jaman...

It has been seven years since the last time I ran a race longer than 5 kilometers.  Seven years ago I ran my first  and only marathon.  It was.... painful.... and it felt glorious to finish in 4 hours and 45 minutes.  I'm no record breaker but I crossed the finish line!!  I got a taste for long distances after running a half marathon right here in the city we live in, 8 years ago.  This month I am going to run that same half marathon again with 2 of the same friends I ran it with the first time.  I remember at one point during that race looking around me.... as far as I could see in front of me was black, bobbing heads.... and as far as I could see behind me was black bobbing heads....  That moment was exhilarating; it felt so good to be running the race, so good to be in that country and it also felt like  a picture of that season of my life.  So much to be done but so much hope and promise.  Could God reach a billion people? Of co...

Recently the church we attended in Sioux Falls has begun a sermon series titled "I'm not okay."  It has been on my mind the last couple days.  I have been reading Exodus lately about Moses.  Perhaps you've heard the story before about the baby floating in the basket in the river Nile who is found by Pharoah's daughter.  Moses's mother showed great courage in refusing to follow Pharoah's edict which said they had to get rid of all Hebrew baby boys.  And God honored that because Moses's own mother was the one to nurse and raise him until she had to deliver him to the Pharoah's daughter where he received an Egyptian education.  In so many ways God provided through all these details of Moses's life.  Yet I imagine that Moses lived a hard life growing up.  The Hebrews didn't really see him as hebrew because he lived in the house of their oppressors.  And the Egyptians probably did not accept him as Egyptian because he was ethnically Hebrew.  ...

Day 1: Finally boarded the train and I have been riding in luxury for about 4 hours already. I've successfully read 68 pages of my book, dined on fine Asian cuisine (Ramen noodles), and taken a 40 minute nap. Travelling without kids is a tad different than this. I woke up just now to beautiful country-side, a far cry from the urban jungle I am used to. However, the white haze lingers and follows wherever I go, like a shadow. This is not my first time on a train in this country but it was the first time I got to experience the euphoria of the wonderful train station we traveled out of today. Wowsa. That place make the craziest airport feel like Sesame Street. The train station is, I've decided, the Mecca for pushing, for shoving and frantic looks, not to mention sweat-stained clothing: backs with a finger lake reaching  south-ward to belt lines, necks with deep end pools which lazily bottom out to rotund bowls and armpits with crater lakes beneath them. Hey, it's hot. ...

I'm frantically running through my daily life, grasping for things that I think will make me matter, make me worthy.  Suddenly.... The Voice.... in my heart.  Like a depth charge in my soul.  A single utterance that breaks through my chaos, my defenses, my fruitless clawing for significance.  The Voice that with a single word makes me drop to the ground and cover my head.  A burst of soul-deep emotion breaks through... cuts through the desert of passionless nothing.... A feeling of shame and acceptance.... only in the Presence of one Person can both exist together.  The striving ends... the busyness of fighting battles in my own strength that He has already won for me.  Will I lay down my pride and my desire to earn everything given to me... this desire that is ingrained into the fabric of my flesh... Will I lay it down and RECEIVE the love of the One to whom this Voice belongs?  Will I RECEIVE from the One who holds back nothing from me?  Wi...

Anyone need some socks?