So. Three-thirty in the morning I wake up to the
throbbing pain in my right big toe. What
the heck?! It’s the side of it, warm and
swollen, like in the area where you would find an infected hangnail or
something. I have had issues with this
nail as I lost part of it some time ago.
This can be the case when running long distances, loosing toenails. The thing has never looked better though!
I
always trim mine really good before, so I never had a problem too much with
this. Now suddenly there is this
pain! And my brain at once goes into
panic mode. Oh no! Possible deal breaker? Is there some chronic issue now and it is
going to keep me from running? Forget
the screwed up back, or stress fractures, or knee problems- all the legit things
that can really be deal breakers and we are going to be out of commission
because of a stupid toe?! And not even
from slipping on the ice or anything, but from sleeping!! In a soft and fluffy bed?!
I
tell you what. I am so done with this
stress. So I get up and go downstairs
and take up my normal hormonal insomnia-laden woman of the night position on
the couch with EWTN (the Catholic channel) on low. I turn on the TV and they are just beginning
Benediction. Ahh. That is what I need. I follow along with the prayers while icing
the stupid toe. I even stretch my toe
out toward the TV as the priest holds up the monstrance for the Eucharistic
blessing. Here it is Lord, my big
toe. Could You be so kind as to heal
this thing for me?
I
am thinking that something has got to be readjusted. And not on my foot. For some time now, with all the planning and
hype about running THE Boston Marathon I have been organizing it all in my
head, like I have the perfect plan.
Don’t You see God? How’s about You
get on board because I have it all mapped out.
Not
only that, but I posted to everyone I know on facebook that I am running in
this race. That gauntlet is dropped and
it would look ridiculous if I am not able to do what I have proclaimed from the
rooftops that I am going to do. I am
this runner see. And everyone knows
it. I got it going on, aren’t you
impressed?
Pride. Dammitable pride. When I (with the aide of grace of course) close
the door somewhere, the devil finds the way under the cracks. And the most discouraging thing is a lot of
times I don’t even see it.
I was talking to my friend Andrea a couple
days ago as I am being overrun with waves of anxiety. I want to do this thing so badly; everything
in me begs God to let it be so. For You
Lord! Let me do this for You! To stand back and see the project before me,
it’s vastness, all those crosses, all the things that can go wrong, all this
weight and baggage is stifling me.
I
was venting to my dear friend, joking that if only God would come on board here
and see the brilliance of my well-laid plan, we would be all set. Her response stuck with me, “Well you should
really be looking for what is His will.”
Yes. I know this.
Yes. But. I really, really (did I make that clear?)
want to do this. For Your glory
Lord. To praise You!
This
morning He answered me.
This
morning I open up the Magnificat (the beautiful Catholic daily mass, and
morning and evening prayers book) and was reading this punch in the gut:
“Obedience to God’s designs is in itself an act of worship. Worship without obedience is merely hollow
flattery.”
Uh
huh. Okay. Then on top of that, I went to morning mass
and the gospel was from Mark about the leper who wanted to be cured so he sets
out to beg before Jesus. He says, “If
you wish it, you can make me clean.” And Jesus, moved with pity responds, “I do
will it. Be made clean.” (Mk
1:40-45) Then Father goes on in his
homily about how a humble heart will win the heart of Jesus… a heart set on
doing the will of God.
Right. Yes.
Got it. And of course I am
rebuilding the dyke and thinking, I could act humble. I could say, “If you wish it, I can run
another marathon.” No really, mine is a
good idea Lord!
So,
after mass I went and registered at the OPC (Older Persons Commission) now that
I’m fifty and can utilize their lap pool (members of the community have to be
fifty). I swam laps for thirty minutes
and loved it! Let’s hear it for cross
training!! The water was the perfect
temperature, so great to go swimming on a cold and snowy day in an eighty-eight
degree pool. That made me very
happy. On top of everything else my arms
are like Jello from use in my modified, keep your hair and eyes out of the
water- breast stroke AND the chlorinated water made my toe feel better. Awesome!
Okay
so now I need to rebuild the dyke again.
I heard You today my Jesus. I
need to ask God to work His wonders in this sinful bunch of flesh and help me
to love His will! I need to become that reed that blows in the
smallest of wind- here and there at just the slightest nudge it responds
without hesitation. I need to trust that
He will take care of all of this- whatever
happens. I need to love. Ooo eee that’s scary. It is a taller order than this old body
finishing another marathon, that’s for sure.
But if anyone can do it, I know God can.
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