So there we were, at mile four of the Twin Cities Marathon, cheering for our friends and the rest of the lunatics who were punishing their bodies for 26.2 miles. It was so fun to be out there with Mary and the boys. We high-fived the runners, grew hoarse cheering for them, and then went to our favorite bakery for breakfast. It was such a fun morning with my family.
Except for the fact that I was supposed to be running it.
Earlier this summer, I got pneumonia, and it was scary. I had never been that sick before, and it took me completely out of my training for the marathon. When I could finally run again, I think I made it about 100 yards before I had to stop. I remember feeling like a beginner again, but not in the good way. I hated that feeling; hated telling my body to do something, and having it shout back at me that it could not.
So I did not run the marathon this year.
I am running again, but my lungs are still recovering, and it’s much harder than it ought to be. I keep acting as if I can just try to run faster, and harder, and I’ll return to form. But it’s not like that. Pneumonia is nasty, and I am told that it can take up to a year before your lungs are repaired.
And I haven’t written on this blog since who knows how long. I love this blog, love the community that has gathered around it, and love the discipline of putting my thoughts and observations out there in actual words, to actual people. I kept wanting to write posts, kept feeling like I needed to sit down and pound one out. But here’s the thing:
I am planting a church (which has been surprisingly fun mixed with the all the requisite insecurity and fear), and I am also trying to finish a manuscript for a book that I’ll be publishing with NavPress in early 2016 (which elicits perhaps even more insecurity and fear). So every spare minute of my time has gone towards writing that book and planting that church.
So I haven’t written much here. I am not sure how much I’ll be able to write until my manuscript deadline (October 31) is in the rear view mirror. So have patience with me as I catch up to myself. I love this blog. I’ll continue to write on it. I love that you read it and I feel like somehow we’re in it together, you and me and us.
So here’s what I’ll offer: it’s good to touch your edges from time to time, to realize that you are not limitless. It’s good to know that you cannot keep cranking it out (and you’re not supposed to), and that you are not a machine. I hate that all of that is true, but it is.
You are an actual person. And so am I.
For me, living my life as is, and not as if right now means that I am narrowing and focusing; I’m saying some yeses and saying some nos. I’m tired. But I’m realizing that God can be with me in those tired places, helping me to slow down – and stop. I’m cheering sometimes rather than running right now.
You are not limitless. You can stop. Sometimes, it’s good to admit that you couldn’t.
In it together.