When She Started Running, Story No. 3

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Inspired by the testimonies of others and the invitation given to me a few weeks ago to share my own, I have created this space on my blog to share My Story. Here is the introduction and an invitation to read along as I share My Life's Stories to give a Testimony of God's Goodness. Along the way, I hope you will also be inspired and equipped to start recording your story. ​​

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Comfort and ease, we all seem to long for these things. In fact, the craving for these two things can sometimes steer our lives in ways we don’t even want to go. We buy this or we avoid that. We commit to this and we cross off that. Often using balance, safety, and precautions as our guideposts. Somedays, I even catch myself avoiding certain routes when running simply because I want a more comfortable workout. (You know the ones that have too many hills or are straight into the wind.) ​

Does this make me stronger? ​

No. ​

Does this help me really get ready for the unpredictability of terrain or weather I will face on race day? ​

No. ​

As parents, many of us have bought into the notion that our primary job is to provide a safety-first, predictable, and stress-free childhood for our children. Headlines of blogs read:

• “How to Get Your Child to Obey All the Time Without Messing Up”
  

• “How to Pack the Perfectly Healthy Lunch You Child Will Swoon Over”
  
• “Create the Perfect Spaces in Your Forever Home and You’ll Be Perfectly Happy”
  
• “Give Your Kids the Perfect Experiences and They’ll Turn Out Just Right”
  

Okay, so I made the titles up, but they generalize the posts that float around the sphere of social media “helping” all of us know just what we can do to get all the things right. Sending the message, we need to get all the things right. (Those blogger people are doing it, so why aren’t you?)

We can easily get caught up in the “just right” and the “perfect life now” messages. Sometimes causing us to begin to believe it is possible to be doing it all right. And if we get it all right, we will have a happy life, happy kids, and a home that will make us feel comfortable and safe until the end of time. ​

But here is what I have learned from my imperfect childhood and teenage years, the not-so-perfect days, the ones that caused me deep pain and confusion, didn’t ruin my life! My parents “failures” (in quotes because I really don’t see them as failures) and the strife and chaos that is a natural part of the coming of age process, whisper of suffering but not of lack of love. ​

In fact, some of the growing pains of my youth (seemingly “caused” by the rules and boundaries set by my parents), I now see as the most sacrificial acts of love. They may have caused some momentary pain, but they kept me from the deeper more destructive pains that would’ve come from allowing me to do what I thought was best from the point of view of my developing brain, maturing emotions, and lack of experiences with real-world consequences.

Yet, the most amazing result of some of the pain I experienced in adolescence is that it led me to one of my greatest passions--running. As you will see in the story I am sharing today, running didn’t just become a passion, it has literally brought me wholeness of mind, soul, and body. It has developed into a physical spiritual act of worship. And no matter my address, running has been the onramp to many rich and life-changing friendships. ​

And why did I begin running? ​

Because I was hurting, confused, and feeling alone. I was lost and words weren’t what I needed to speak or hear. I needed space, endorphins, and destinations. I needed to learn to see the unique design that the Creator set in me before time began. God knew he would lead me to that understanding on dusty country roads, on 400-meter tracks, on foreign city’s pavement, along mountainsides and rivers, and on the quiet city streets around the places I would call home. ​

Jennie Allen, in her book, Restless, poses this question: ​

“What if the things that have caused the most hurt in your life became the birthplaces of your deepest passions?” 

​For me, this has been true. My teenage years were painful. Not just because of what happened at home, but because of other struggles at school, with friends, and life in general. Yet, I can see how all of it built me into someone both stronger and more compassionate than I would have been without the struggles that hurt. ​

I didn’t have a perfect childhood. I didn’t have perfect parents. I didn’t have a perfect home. I experienced some hurts from the the people who loved me the most (And I am sure I hurt them too!). It goes without saying, that certainly the good times built in me the security and confidence I needed, but the hurts had a role too. They pushed me toward running which would later pushed me toward God, which would later become one of the few steady things that stuck with me throughout my life. In addition, I believe my career in education has more to do with the pains I experienced in my teenage years than the fun times I had.

So, as you read, When She Started Running, Story No. 3, I pray you too will see how God has used some of the painful experiences of your life to lead you to a passion that gave you the opportunity to know yourself and your God more deeply and truly.

Comfort and ease won’t get us to the places that we want to go. They do not demand of us passion or courage. Let’s put down comfort and perfect and pick up doing the best we can with what we have. Let’s believe that our imperfect, self-sacrificing, boundary setting love will trump getting all the things just right. Lastly, let’s choose to believe that out of some of our most gut-wrenching pain can come a redemption story that sets our hearts ablaze for God and compels us to love our neighbors as ourselves (Mark 12:30-31).  ​

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Pixar-Style Testimony
When She Started Running, Story No.3 

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• Once upon a time, there were two first-born teenage children--a boy and a girl. Not born at the same time, as twins are, but Irish twins--children born of the same mother less than 12 months apart. In their younger years, they had experienced a harmonious home. Simple in size and provisions, and by their observations ordinary. At this stage in life, they were immature and self-centered like most teenagers, and their parents had decided to remodel the house, making most of it a construction zone--the chaos of which was a metaphor of the emotional atmosphere that had shattered the peace that once ruled the spaces.
• Every day the oldest born girl struggled to understand conflicts between her older brother and her parents. Her attempts to mediate, a hallmark of the a middle child, often were ineffective--creating more stress. Why couldn’t they just get along? Why was there so many arguments, disagreements, rigidness and an inability to see things from one another’s point of view? In all their years growing up, her brother had in many ways been her best friend and protector. One time in the 4th grade he was sent to the principal's office because he told a kid who was picking on his sister to stop it or he would beat him up. All these years, she too had been close to and loved her parents. In the 3rd grade when her mom paid for figure skating lessons because she had been spending hours skating to Amy Grant music in the homemade rink in the front yard, she went twice and then said, “Mom I don’t like going to skating on Saturdays because then I don’t get to spend time with Dad.” So she never returned to the lessons, and instead spent time at home helping with chores and enjoying the pleasure of an unrushed childhood.  
• One day, when the arguing was more than she could handle, she ran out to the woods, stood among the trees and screamed as loud as she could for as long as she could. Her heart, mind, and soul could not process the chaos around her. In the stillness of the branches, her entire body quivered, unsure of herself, her role in her family, or who her loyalties should most belong to--brother or parents. She thought back to days earlier when the same feelings had overwhelmed her and she had hid behind a chair in the corner of the living room, literally pounding the ground, trying to beat the confusion out through her clenched, drumming fists.
• Because of that, chaos and strife, hurt overtook her and somewhere deep down inside she decided her voice didn’t matter. It was just screaming in a woods that, even though loud enough to have been heard in the heavens, seemed heard by no one.
• Because of that, she started running. She began to live life with a mindset that she was on her own. She looked for ways to be in control so that chaos could not be the dominant force in her life. Nutrition research and running became her hiding place, and all things in this space, in her mind, were in her control. Calories in counted. Calories out counted. Numbers on the scale monitored. Pace times around the track recorded. Hours of sleep specified. To her delight, success and recognition were the results--she had earned the approval of herself and others. She had a place and a voice of influence. She was in control and she was starting to be seen.
• Until finally, on the most pivotal week of the track season food poisoning became her nemesis and saving grace. Instead of taking her first-seat slot on the track for the 1600m run, she was in an emergency room with doctors explaining to her parents that running and eating had become a source of malnutrition and anemia. But more devastating to her than that was that she had just missed her best chance to qualify for state in race she had been dominating all season. That day, instead of riding the bus home, celebrating a victory with teammates, she was alone in the backseat of her parent's vehicle mourning her loss. But she wouldn’t change what happened next for a gold medal in the Olympics. In her silent sorrow, grace dipped down and God spoke to her through her thoughts. As she stared out the window she heard him whisper to her heart, "you are more than what you accomplish. You are more than what you can control. Your value doesn’t depend on you--your leadership, your self-control, your influence or your accolades."  And that whisper has made all the difference in heaven and on earth. Because it has helped her to run her physical and missional races hard knowing that her value doesn’t hinge on her stride or pace. Running got to stay in her life because that day she began realizing it was not about the accomplishments but about being who God made her to be--a runner who would need, in years ahead, to see that her running brought her closer to God and kept her life free from the anxiety and depression that ran in her family’s heritage. Running would be her medicine through ups, downs, transitions, and loneliness--not an escape, but a road to the arms of a good, creative and trustworthy God. And over and over again throughout her life, God would remind her he made her a runner so she could find peace and companionship in even the darkest days with the legs, lungs and heart he gave her.

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Photo credit: Abby & Brandon
Event: Go & See Retreat Spring 2019 
Location: Lake Darling Resort, Alexandria, MN
Caption: Jaclyn helping her daughter learn to start writing her own story. ​