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Something to Run Toward

Our son said that the thing he looks forward to all day is 4:09 pm.

You read that right, 4:09 pm…..because that, my friends, is when he is able to sit down and kick back with a life altering game of Fortnite.

As I began to feel sorry for him, I ended up feeling sorry for myself. 

As stupid and petty as Fortnite seems to me, Bram at least has something he can pin down a day and a strangely specific time for something he really loves “doing.” And it’s for him, not for anyone else. 

I can say that I love watching Bram play sports, watching the kiddos win awards at school, or peeking in on the girls loving on each other, but I am not participating, I am simply an observer.

I want to find my 4:09 pm. 

I want to know it so well that down to the minute, I can boldly express what I enjoy and what I am passionate about. For the past year or so, I assumed that it should be something that bursts from my heart or a wide-open door that says ‘dreams and possibilities’ on the outside.  And when I open the door, the hallway is full of cheesy Christmas Hallmark movies, baby Cokes, only people that think and feel like I do, balloons, confetti and a blank check.

I am sitting here one year later and have decided that I’ve been 100% percent wrong about all of that.

Amongst the self-doubt and feelings of selfishness for spending so much time thinking about well, me....that’s when the enemy sneaks and whispers the lie: “This is all you have to offer.  Stop wasting everyone’s time.”

I refuse to devote myself to that delusion. 

I have decided that boredom can be described as a stirring or even great anticipation for something more.

I have always felt a kinship to Moses.  I remember sitting at the doctor’s office where I opened the book, ‘Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership’, and the chapter was titled ‘The Conundrum of a Calling.’  The author writes, “God was asking him (Moses) to step up and be everything he was and everything God would call him to be.”  I love the phrase “everything he was.”  It was in Moses.  He didn’t have to learn it or read about it.

It was who Moses was created to be.

(Moses and I would be BFF’s.  It would be more-so me annoying him until he realized he couldn’t get rid of me, but I count that as friendship. Just as he would think that he got away from me, I would creepily pop out from behind the curtains.  I am that kind of friend.)

Unless Moses enjoys running because I hate running, I really hate it.  I picture heaven being a place where running is not allowed. 

It’s misery to me.

I ran today. 

I realize I am currently not in heaven and running was an option, so I did it.  What started as a walk and what felt like a one-way conversation with the Lord, ended up being a run.  Through my walk, I continued to beg for God to just open a door or to show Himself to me, even if it was something small, like a talking squirrel, or bee, or caterpillar…

or a little dandelion to catch on fire.  
None of that happened. 

I felt the urge to run – most likely out of frustration, but I ran, and I hated it.

I was ironically trying to run away from myself and my own issues.

Side note: My running is ugly.  My form is awful, I breathe way to heavily and I most definitely have some over motion happening with my arms and legs.  I look like a baby giraffe trying to walk.

I felt a voice as I ran saying, “You have to run towards it, Janna.  You can’t just walk through life and expect things to fall into place.”  And as the ‘running’ continued I heard, “You might feel tired, but it will be worth it.”

I was tired, and my body had a love/hate relationship with every stride.

I am grateful (and sometimes irritated) for this period of relearning what I love and then choosing to leap here and there.  Some leaps will be scary and some leaps will feel more secure. I imagine a few leaps will end with a sprained ankle along the way, but it’s the forward motion that I am most excited about. 

4:09 pm, baby.

4:09 pm