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The Day I Almost Sold It

Her stomach had knots in it as she strode down the street of Philadelphia.  She was alone, without her four children, and her husband was at work.  He worked so hard and so long without complaint.  Maybe what she was about to do would ease the burden just a little bit.  Her thumb impulsively twirled the diamond ring on her left hand, like it had done for the past ten years, and she remembered the day he proposed.  After a silly argument the previous night, they were standing on their special rock in the middle of a stream.  He had the ring in his pocket.  His plan of proposing on the rock was thwarted when it began to rain.  So they ran over slippery rocks to some shelter, where he popped the question.  The argument from the night before faded into forgetfulness.  Never had she seen anything so gorgeous.  So much hard work and saving had gone into it, and she wore it with an incredible sense of awe.  It was square, just like she had hoped it would be. The way it sparkled made her think of the brilliant stars in the African sky of her childhood.

She stepped into the doorway of the first shop on Jewelers Row.  It was where her ring was first bought.  She nervously took it off her finger and asked the jeweler if he would buy it back.  A feeling of relief swept over her when he said he wouldn’t.  Then just as quickly, the knot formed again when he pointed her to another shop that might.

She gulped past the lump which was forming in her throat now and walked back onto the city streets.  What would he say when she told him?  The man of her dreams, who worked so hard for their family.  She had already sold her favorite camera he had given her their first year of marriage.  And almost anything else she could get her hands on to help contribute to their ever growing family.  He wouldn’t yell at her, she knew.  He loved her far more than any material possession they owned.  Yet, what would be his reaction?  She had been thinking about this for a long time, and hated to think about how he might feel.  So she didn’t think.  She walked straight into the second shop and held up her ring.

How much is it worth? She asked, knowing the answer they gave her wouldn’t match what was her heart was screaming back in answer.  Three-hundred dollars, he was telling her, while her mind kept saying: Priceless.

Three hundred-dollar bills.  They would buy groceries for the next month.  They would take a small load from her husband’s shoulders.  But they would swiftly disappear, and she would stare at her naked finger for years to come.  She thanked the man and walked out onto the street.  Her heart was pounding.  She didn’t know how God would provide for them that week, but she knew she had made the right decision.  Tears streamed down her cheeks, as the glorious reminder of sacrificial love sparkled back at her from her left hand.

That young bride?  She still wears the ring with much gratefulness.  That young bride is me.

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Six Dollar Car Wash and Shattered Glass

If you’ve ever wondered how many times you’re allowed to go through a carwash on one $6 purchase, the answer is at least four.  On Monday morning I drove the kids to school in my dad’s car.  So thankful we are able to borrow it while he and my mom are in Africa right now.  On Friday we had a glass shattering accident with Silver Belle (our van) which has left us without a vehicle.  More on that later. I can only fit 4 kids at a time in the car, so there is always a shuffling around to make it work.  After I dropped the older two off at school, I swung back home to pick up the middle crew since Jack had a dentist appointment.  Shortly after we arrived, some dear sweet friends we haven’t seen in much too long, started piling into the waiting room with us.  My entire weekend had been pretty shaken up with the accident and I was battling some discouraging thoughts.  You know how after being with certain friends for even five minutes changes your entire outlook on life?  That’s how this mama is to me.  You should check out her journey.  Between the two of us, we have 15 children.  We left the dentist office blessed and refreshed.  She even scheduled her follow up visit to match our follow up visit so we can hang out again in the waiting room together again in a few weeks.  Yeah.  She rocks!

From there, we headed over to the carwash, because my dad’s car needed a bath.  Plus, it’s fun.  We paid $6 for the express wash then drove into the tunnel, paying close attention to the traffic light telling me to “enter slowly”.  I drove ahead until it said “STOP”.  Then it told me to drive forward again.  Stop.  Drive forward.  Stop.  Then it started and soap sprayed all over the car, but the brushes only barely touched the back bumper.  A few seconds later, the light told me to exit slowly.  Say what?  I parked the rather soapy car in front of the gas station and stated my problem to the owners.  A very Italian man smiled and coached me on the skills of carwash etiquette, because how I described what happened must have sounded like I truly had never gone through a carwash before.  He walked out with me and told me to drive through again.  He gave me instructions on what each hand motion he would make, meant, and we tried again.  He stood at the end of the tunnel, like an air traffic controller about to land a jumbo jet.  Except he added another hand motion we didn’t go over in our briefing: “put the car in park”.  It looked a whole lot like “Back Up”, so I did.  Slowly, of course.  The loud “exit slowly” buzzer came on.  He shook his head and motioned for me to circle around again.  He typed another pass into the little computer thing while I drove to the entrance.  The second attempt was better.  Not correct, but better.  Something happened which forced me to circle yet again.  He certainly must have thought I was fresh out of drivers ed.  Or carwash ed.  This time we had all the details worked out and I was dying of laughter.  He put on his traffic controller hat again, and this time it worked.  Harry only cried a little as the gigantic brushes scrubbed Grandpa’s little red car, which is now sparkling again.

After the carwash, I had to run to the police station to pick up the police report from the accident.  Last Friday, we were two blocks from home, driving to school.  I maneuvered down the narrow city street, noticing someone was double parked on my left.  As I navigated between his car and the other cars parallel parked, a woman to my right opened her car door as I was passing her.  The crunch was loud and sickening.  Her door was stuck in the sliding door window of our van, and the entire window shattered into a spider web.
2017-08-25 08.10.56Thankfully no one was hurt, but I did start to cry.  The second day of school, and we would be late.  The van was a mess.  To make matters worse, the party involved refused to take responsibility and mouthed off to the police officers.  It wasn’t a pleasant experience.  Now the insurance companies have to figure out what really happened since it is now word against word.  At the police station, I obtained the report no problem.  Harry was totally enamored with the receptionist.  He is usually serious towards strangers, but something about her sweet face turned him into a sunbeam!  It was darling.  I think we will need to go back just to say hello.

Much happened during those first 3 hours on Monday.  Tuesday found us at the eye doctor.  Jack and Elsie both need new glasses.  More dentist appointments and doctor appointments coming up too.  Then we’re all caught up on WELL visits for at least 6 months.  ALL THE PRAISE HANDS!  Matthew still has regular checkups to keep tabs on what’s going on in his unique, anatomically incorrect sinuses.

Nadine and Elijah absolutely love school.  We had our first parent/teacher back to school night last night and got to meet each teacher and hear how God is blessing them there.  So thankful for the input of others into their lives.

Our other three students begin school next month here at home.  Harry blends into the mix in his own sweet way.  As Betty said while she helped me at the store yesterday: “You are just such a precious child!”  Yes, yes he is.

No dentists, doctors or grocery stores in the mix for today, but there is plenty of laundry to do.  I’m going to pretend my laundry detergent is like the widow’s oil which didn’t run out until she didn’t need it any more.  Because it looks like there is only one more load’s worth left in the container, but I have a few more loads to do than that.  And as trivial and trite a need that is (because I know the detergent I ordered is on its way soon, and hey… I’m cool not doing laundry for a few days) we do have a true and real need right now.  Matthew needs a work truck by this weekend, so we pray and look and wait and anticipate that answer to prayer!  And maybe we’ll celebrate its arrival by… a carwash or three!


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The Best Chocolate Chip

The sound never grows old.  A faint, steady rhythm.  So tiny, yet so strong.  We call him “Chip”, because at one point, baby was the size of a chocolate chip. The name stuck.  Now Chip is bigger, and his heart is definitely beating.  Life.  Hidden and mysterious, but unmistakably there.  On Monday I had my first midwife appointment and got to meet Chip in a super special way, as the tears pooled in my eyes and his heartbeat met my ears.  Every morning for the past couple of weeks I’ve sighed a great hallelujah that my pants still button.  But thirteen weeks into this journey, and it’s time to expand my wardrobe for my expanding wasitline!  I’m definitely tired of sweat pants and feeling frumpy.
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The second highlight of our week was Tuesday.  Hearing a solid “well done” from the kids’ evaluator, marked another year in the books for the Weldon Academy of Natural Studies.  We now officially have one 1st grader, one 3rd grader, one 5th grader and two 8th graders.  Good thing I’m sitting down right now.  It’s been a huge year, full of much learning and growing.  We celebrated with lunch at the Green Street Grille.  What a HUGE accomplishment!  They’re growing up so fast.  In fact, the other day Jack asked Betty how old she wants to be when she grows up.  She thought for a moment and said, “Seventeen.”2016-05-10 13.20.18-1Last month, I had the incredible privilege of flying out to Portland to visit my dear friend, April.  We grew up together for a few years in the middle of Africa.  Her house was just a shout away.  In fact, we would often stand at the bottom of their hill and yell, “Do you have a roll of toilet paper we could borrow?!”  Or “Do you have butter?!”  You know, the essential things.  This is probably one huge reason I love my neighbor, Jen, so much.  I don’t think a week goes by without borrowing something from her… and it is often ONE egg, or TWO INCHES of butter, please.  Having someone who loves you and doesn’t think any less of you because you fail to figure out just how many eggs you’ll need each week… on a weekly basis… is pretty grand.

April and I have been friends for almost thirty years.  I don’t even FEEL like I’m 30 yet, so this is pretty wild for me to comprehend even still.  But we have, because Math doesn’t lie, or something like that.  She is one of the most genuine people I know.  I love her courage and gusto in life.  I love that she doesn’t let fear hold her down from following God’s leading.  That leading happens to be into the middle of the jungle of Papua, Indonesia.  I am so thankful I got to squeeze her and even run a mini “Amazing Race Portland” with her and a friend before she flew back across a HUGE ocean to her home.  As we prayed before she dropped me off at the airport, I was absolutely floored by the goodness and grace of God to weave and keep tight the bond of this friendship which has spanned more time and miles than I can comprehend.

As things grow and change in our family, this guy remains constant and steady.  2016-04-08 07.10.53-1We have had such fun dreaming together.  He is such an encouragement to me every day.  I don’t often feel what he sees, but I choose to believe him, because he’s never lied to me yet.  We are so excited to see how the Lord is going to work out the details of our future.  We sense His stirring in our lives and know He has something amazing in store.

Baby Chip is proof of that.


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Fingerless Gloves & Papaya

It’s 8am and only the sound of batter sizzling in the waffle iron is hitting my ears.  Snow fell rather silently all night long, accompanied by vicious wind, which uncharacteristically woke me up several times throughout the night.  We even ended up with a small little darling in our bed, half-way through the night.  Nadine is getting snowed in at a friend’s house, which caused Elsie to abandon her usual spot with Betty, and snuggle instead in big sister’s bed.  This in turn caused Betty to find her way to our room in the middle of the howling night with some howling of her own, begging us to bring Elsie back to her bed so she could sleep.  It’s sisterly love at its finest.  Just not at 3am, please.  Snuggling in our bed was certainly only second best.  I was reminded once again just how much room one tiny body can take, and by 7:00 I found myself more than ready to abandon my swiftly shrinking cacoon and make for the kitchen.  With snow piling up outside, I decided to do what any snowstorm calls one to do: make cinnamon rolls and waffles.  Carb overload for survival.  So, with the dough proofing in the oven, waffles sizzling away, and snow falling, my half-gloved fingers are enjoying what my African heart is craving: papaya.  2016-01-23 08.03.47And a hot mug of tea.  2016-01-23 08.28.17Matthew comes downstairs, with his slippered feet shuffling across the kitchen to me.  By now, everyone has emerged from their beds.  2016-01-23 08.35.34He gives me a big kiss, which gets a full evaluation by our eager observers.  “Eeew!  That’s gross!”  “Oh, man.  They’re kissing on the lips!”  “I’m just looking at my plate.”  “How do you breathe for that long?!”  “Doesn’t your air go into his nose?”  Yep.  It’s always preeetttty romantic having a running commentary while exchanging  a kiss.  But that’s okay.  I love that he’s not ashamed to show how much he loves me in front of eager eyes.

Here’s to a snow day full of cinnamon rolls, a turkey dinner and each other!

That’s right.  A turkey dinner is on our list.  We thought since we never had a white Christmas, we will extend our celebrations to mid-January.  So if you happen to find yourself craving a turkey dinner, we’ll carve a spot out on our street for you and you can join us at our table.

 


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2 Months, 1 Amazing Guy, 5 Kids, 1 Rabbit, and 22 Bobby-pins

We stood on the edge of the woods, arms around each other and Nadine started to quietly sing: “Nah-nah-nah-nah, nah-nah-nah-nah, hey, hey, hey, good-bye.”  Matthew and I hugged her close and sang along, our mournful song stretching past the trees and into the May evening with respect and emotion.  A pile of stones marks his grave, as this week we said goodbye to our first pet.  Toby was Nadine’s rabbit, and she loved and trained him well.  I will miss watching her train him on the front porch and take him for walks around the block on his little leash.  The words sharpie-d onto his grave-stone say it all:
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On a happier note, our school-year is done. We are schooling all year, which basically means we are taking a short break before starting again!  This allows for longer breaks during Christmas-time and the dreaded February blues.  Today I have an incredibly special place to school-plan.  While Matthew works on a side job, this is my view:
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I do not take this for granted and have spent most of my morning in awe of the fact that there is no one needing me.  In fact, I even managed to go to the bathroom without anyone yelling, “MOM!”  Because as every mother knows, the time when every child all of a sudden urgently needs them, is the moment the bathroom door closes.
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In the past few months of non-writing, there are mounds of funnies jotted into my phone’s notebook, along with lots of pictures.  Our spring has been full of gardening, school, organizing, and purging.  Recently, we’ve been going room-by-room throughout the house and deep-cleaning every nook and cranny.  This is useful for two things: to get rid of what is not needed, and to find lost things.  I don’t know about you, but there are a few items in our home which notoriously get lost throughout the year:  bobby-pins, scissors, pencils, pens, hair-ties, hair-brushes, and socks.  There is a small list of things of more value and meaning which have also gone missing, and this was another reason for the deep-cleaning.  Unfortunately, those things still haven’t been found, but we do have a FULL jar of pencils, pens, and scissors again.  As well as this nice array of 22 bobby-pins confiscated from one room alone:

My  heart is so full of thankfulness for the five amazing gifts God has given to us.  They bless our lives more than words or pictures can express.  But I will try to express it anyway.
Nadine has such a huge heart.  This was shown so clearly this week when she lost Toby.  How she carried him bravely from the accident and stayed with him and didn’t shy away from showing her grief.  She has been babysitting and absolutely loves kids.  Her passion for horses has not been abated, and she loves to spend her free time writing letters to her amazing friends.  She is keeping alive the art of creating home-made envelopes and giving the post office lots of service!  She holds the highest record on “bop-it”, which is like a concentration game: 250.  I think my record is 21.  She sang her first solo and did a beautiful job at their end-of-school play.  She is a strong girl, and loves to arm wrestle.  I love how she cleans up the kitchen at night for me, when I’m feeling like toast.  Her energy is exactly what I need sometimes.
May 2015 phone photos
Elijah is growing up, like boys do.  Our recent trip to the Franklin Institute to see the “Art of the Brick” Lego display was pretty epic.  He and Jack have been building all sorts of things in their spare time, making guns that shoot legos, and vending machines that actually work.  It is beyond me.  He is often my side-kick in the kitchen.  He recently made some chicken curry that was pretty bombdiggity.  He did a great job a couple weeks ago, helping Matthew at our church to teach a lesson about lying.  He has a gift for music and I absolutely love listening to him jam on the guitar.  It is his new passion, and he brings us great joy to hear him play and sing.
May 2015 phone photos1
Jack finished up his year of wrestling, turned 9, and all sorts of other momentous things in April.  At the kids’ end-of-the-year school celebration with their co-op, they performed a musical called, “Rats”.  Jack was one of the rats, and I learned something I never knew about him before: that boy can act!  He was not afraid on the stage, and he actually hammed it up quite a bit.  He is fearless on his bike, which is sometimes not a good thing.  He loves to hold hands, and can give the best shoulder massages.  When I think of Jack, I think of a strong, tame, hug-gable tiger.
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Elsie is a fearless, yet at times, shy girl.  She has the most beautiful singing voice, and the ability to pick up songs on the piano naturally.  She did a great job at the end-of-the-year play as well.  When she has two wheels under her, she becomes very bold.  The other day our family went to the skate park together and she was the only girl in the entire park, fearlessly rollerblading between some crazy fast boys on jumps.  She prefers to be outside, and has the best imagination.  Her end-of-the-year science experiment with flowers and colored water worked out well, and it was fun watch the flowers turn into different colors.  She turned 7, got glasses, and seemed to grow up all in a matter of months.
April 2015
Betty, who is four (which really means “I’m almost five”), tops our charts with hilarity.  She adores school, her yellow crocs, and being a part of everything.  Like when the kids were all playing “Truth or Dare” in the car.  She piped up: “Truth or dare?  Truth is, I dare you to jump out of the window!”  Elijah calmly answered, “Betty, I’m not going to jump out the window.”  She probably crossed her eyes, which is something she does a lot of right now when she’s annoyed.  She recently learned how to ride a bike without training wheels, had her first three-legged race, and a host of other firsts that come with being under the age of five.  She tells stories which go on for many minutes.  The most recent one she told started off like this: “Long ago, when I was three…”  She loves “noodle” cookies (snickerdoodles) and “reading”.  When we were gardening last week she exclaimed, “There’s a lot of bees in this village!” I must have said, “Sweetheart” to her at some point because she looked at me with a dead-pan face (as she always looks when she says things that crack us up) and said, “Sweetheart?!   Why do you always call me sweetheart?”  I was so taken aback, I wasn’t sure how to respond!  April 2015 phone photos4
Another highlight of our spring was saying hello again to my parents who recently just arrived back from Africa.  It was fun house-sitting for them,  but much more fun having them back again.  You can read all about their trip here.

Meeting our international travelers at the airport.  I love hellos!

Meeting our international travelers at the airport. I love hellos!

Matthew has been doing pretty well.  I don’t think I could be more thankful for him than I am right now, although I know tomorrow it will be more, because that’s how love is.  It grows with time.  And though we’re not old, we’re older than we were, and I have time on my side to say without a doubt: It just gets better.
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Halfway To Seventy

Every time March rolls around, I get very excited.  I love birthdays and am not afraid of them.  I am now officially halfway to seventy:
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Today we got a foot of snow for my birthday.  It was PILES of fun, and I’m thankful Matthew was able to work from home!  This week was full of surprises.  It began with an early birthday cake, made especially by our cousin, who owns The Master’s Baker.  Seeing as though we didn’t even have a wedding cake, this was my first experience at receiving a professional custom-made cake.  Isn’t it gorgeous?
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Since winter is here and all, we decided we would take it by the hand and have fun with it.  My next surprise was a night away with everyone at Bear Creek mountain resort, for our very first family skiing adventure!  2015-03-02 20.20.03-2
The last time I went skiing was on my 19th birthday.  My best friend, Rebecca, was giving me clues on what to do to prepare for this epic surprise she had planned with my sister.  She told me things like, “Make sure you shave your legs,” and “Dress nice!”  When my birthday rolled around, they blindfolded me and brought me downstairs to the kitchen where I was met by Matthew, his brother, and Rebecca’s brothers.  Matthew handed me my “treasure map” to the surprise: a map of the ski place we would be going to that day!  I laughed and said, “Good thing I shaved my legs!” before running  back upstairs to change.  It was a great memory.  That may have been the time I kept skiing backwards and couldn’t figure out how to turn myself back around, which only came in handy when I wanted to wave at people as I passed them.  It also may have been the time I accidentally went down a black diamond, without knowing how to slow down at all.  I do remember flying past Matthew, and truly hoping I would make it down to the bottom in one piece.

Funny how time telescopes when you find yourself in the exact place you have been in the past.  I wasn’t skiing backwards or even down a black diamond.  Yet all of a sudden I felt the same freedom mingled with danger, and I was 19 again.  Except when I fell.  Then the nostalgia went poof like the snow in which I landed, and I was definitely thirty-five.  And I definitely had five people I had birthed from my body, sharing the ever-expanding niches of my heart.  I don’t remember what it is like to be completely separate from those feelings of mother-love.  To do anything apart from my mind, body and soul being so deeply connected with another human being.  I would rather be halfway to seventy and not remember what it’s like to be independent of those feelings, than be nineteen and have no idea what I’m missing.  And as exhausting as motherhood can be, it’s even more exhilarating than that.

My breath caught more times than just when the wind whipped my face.  As I skied next to Elsie while she zipped to the bottom of a hill, red cheeks, one strand of hair constantly falling out of her hat and helmet,  I smiled at her bravery.  She went from being scared to death to go down the hill, to falling, to dusting herself off and saying, “Let’s do it again!”    It caught when I saw Nadine gracefully maneuvering the snowy hills, her tall self looking so beautiful.  She was so helpful with Betty, both on the slopes and the night before, when we had supper together.
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She’s a wonderful big sister.  So is Elsie, who is also not afraid to perform interpretive dance in the middle of a restaurant in pj’s and socks.
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I laughed at Elijah, my crazy, creative boy, who thought to video himself while he skied and then simultaneously wiped out at the bottom.
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I found it hard to breath as I watched Jack plow recklessly and fearlessly down hills and over jumps, creating a puff of snow when he fell.
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He wore his t-shirt around his face for most of the day.
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I found it especially hard to believe my baby bear is growing up enough to have a ski day of her own.  She absolutely loved it when Matthew held her waist all the way down the hill.  I almost cried when her little voice called down to me from the ski lift and she waved her little mitten hand and went higher and farther away from me.  When her daddy was not able to ski with her, this is what she thought about the whole idea:
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Yes, this is her “I’m-happy-and-I-know-it-but-just-not-about-skiing” face.

Our day ended abruptly when I got a call on my phone, just as I had sat down in the lodge with Nadine and Betty and a hot cup of tea.  It was Matthew, and he said Elsie had fallen getting off the ski lift and he wasn’t sure if her arm was broken.  My throat had a lump in it when I saw the snowmobile with a red cross on it make its way to the ski patrol, a tiny bundle on its sled.  I told Nadine to pray and then ran over to meet Matthew.  This darling little thing was getting checked out, and we still weren’t sure about her condition.  After a lollipop, an ice-cream bar, and many attempts by the sweet ski patrol medics to get her to smile, Matthew got the rest of the crew packed up and we left.  I experienced one of the most frightening and harrowing drives through ice and sleet and snow, but made it to the hospital near our house.  Long, happy story short: her arm is not broken!  We are so grateful to God.
March 2015 phone photos
When Matthew and I collapsed into bed, he sighed, “That was the best day ever.”

I would have to agree.  And this time, I didn’t even have to shave my legs.


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Cleared To Run

I’ve always loved to fly.  Something about the sound of an airplane being able to go where my finite body can not on its own, simply amazes me.  I remember the sound of an airplane coming back to our small station in the middle of Africa.  I remember the pilots calling out in French: attention! before starting the propeller for take-off.  I remember being in those Cessnas so many times, eagerly spying out Mount Nyankunde, which meant we were home.  My sister always had her head buried in her lap, or eyes closed, so I took in all the scenery for her, my stomach never feeling the queasy hers did.  Before each flight, the mechanics cleared the plane for flying.

This weekend is a big deal for Matthew.  His body has been cleared to run, and we are pumped up to take this 24 hour flight.  We, meaning, he is doing all the running, and I will be on the sidelines cheering him on big time.  When we think back to a year ago, we didn’t know his esophagus was closing up and the strange loss of his voice meant more trouble was brewing in the near future.  It was a really hot weekend, and whether it was truly canceled because of the heat or not, we look at it as a blessing from God.  We don’t know what would have happened out there, but I think God preserved his life.

About 95 percent of folks think what he is doing is pretty crazy.  They ask, why?  Reading through the first year of the race, here, I am revisited by goosebumps.  Is it safe?  This question makes Matthew laugh.  I don’t believe Matthew is stupid, but he also isn’t fearful.  Too often we let fear keep us from pushing harder.  If you asked him why he runs, his answer always is: I  feel closer to the Almighty God when I run.  Running strips him bare.  He spends a lot of time in prayer while he runs.  On the practical side of safety, his doctors have given him an excellent bill of health.  However, on the side of safety where most of us dwell… not wanting to be in pain, shying away from inconvenient, and letting fear of difficulty keep us from getting stronger… he is living on the edge.  Because it isn’t about safety, this life on earth.  It’s about trusting a really big God who isn’t always safe.  As C.S. Lewis penned: “Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

There are three men we pray for daily, throughout the day.  One, Jerry, is a prisoner in Africa, and we are praying for him to be found, released and the darkness to fall.  One, Saed, is in a known jail, but illegally being tortured and willingly kept from his home country of the United States.  Another is a good friend of ours and he lives in an incredibly dark, hellish environment in one of the most unsafe regions of the world.  All three are running an eternal race with eternal significance.  We don’t know the end of their stories on earth yet.  We know what they are experiencing, both willingly and without choice, is bringing even greater glory to God.  When Matthew runs, he enters into the suffering of these men who are running too.  Maybe not with their feet, but certainly with their lives.  As Elsie keeps asking me about Jerry, she says, Mama?  Is he still running?  Yes, he is still running.  And with all of our breath, so we should be too.

We’ve been cleared to run.

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