Marathon anyone?

I promise I'm not here to try and bore you to death with analogies or make a Jesus Parallel out of every situation, which is why I put off writing this post for a good four months. All that to say, I'm going to do it anyway...

Wednesday morning at the crack of dawn (wait, "dawn" means there's light out... okay, before dawn...), I was running in formation and I started reminiscing on my marathon. For those of you who don't know, my father and I ran a marathon in December. It was his fifth and my first. Running the marathon was one of the things on my "bucket list," so I guess I'm a step closer to death. If you have never ran a race before, they are amazing. It really doesn't matter where your ability level is when there are 2,000+ people. There will inevitably be someone faster than you and someone slower than you. The feeling is so amazing when you are standing there in the bitter cold morning watching the world wake up, anticipating the shot to be fired, and waiting for the "Go!" to be announced. Familiar jitters capture my body and the excitement drives my determination. The realization that I'm not in this alone, makes it so much more appealing. It may be a "race" but it certainly is one filled with encouragement and the unspoken knowledge that we are all hoping to see the person beside us finishing strong in a few hours.
I'm sure you can guess how i draw my "spiritual parallel" from this event. I write this as much for myself as I do for those of you who take a minute to read it. My dad told me that every mile that I got to that I had not ran yet, I needed to do a dance. (Before the marathon of 26.2 miles, the furthest that I had ran was 18 miles.) It sounds silly and juvenile, yet it gave me something to look forward to and a strange motivation to get to the next mile. I can't even explain to you how much I respect my father. Don't get me wrong, I respected him before the marathon, but running with him opened up a whole new avenue of respect. He earned my respect in an "athlete" kind of way. I wanted to run fast in the beginning and he kept warning me that I needed to hold a steady pace and it would give me a good foundation for the rest of the race. He was so right. Especially at mile 22. Dang, I was finished but he just kept on keeping on at his steady pace.

What if I lived out my walk for Christ with the same principles that I ran the marathon? What if every time I got to a new place with Him, I stopped to reflect and do a little dance? Sometimes I wonder if I really grasp the idea that Jesus Christ is running the race next to me, If I really understand that he is keeping my steady pace for me so that I won't burn out before the finish line. My Heavenly Father is singing my cadence and keeping me in step. I so badly want that "good and faithful servant" at the end of my Marathon, so for now, I will keep on keeping on. One day at a time, One mile at a time, One step at a time.

Colon Finale/Change your life

"I hate my job." "I'm too fat." "I need to go on a diet." "I wish I could change this, I wish I could change that." How many freaking times a day do we hear people saying crap like this? ALL stinkin' day. There IS a beautiful thing to being a human being, we can change at any time we want. Yes, at ANY time. How about if you look in the mirror for twenty minutes every morning and try on fifteen different outfits just to see which one can hide your Whopper from last night best, maybe you should re-think eating it. Don't get me wrong, if you like some pudge, more power to you, I'm simply speaking to those that whine about it all day. I have a suggestion, take your pie-hole, stuff some fresh vegetables in it and spend that $10 bucks a day that you spend on fast food on a gym membership. Come on people, is it really that hard??? If you hate your job and you find yourself complaining about your boss all day, chances are, he doesn't really like you either, so go find yourself a new job where you can actually take pride in what you do. Angry because you didn't get a pay raise this year? Well, your boss is still angry because he has to pay 50% more in taxes (thanks Mr. President.) and still pay your whining A star star. Nobody cares about your complaints except for the guy next to you at work who wants to complain too. Get off your lazy gluteus maximus, own up to your own choices, and change your way of life.


Colon Cleanser:
I know you all are dying to know how my colon is doing. It's doing just great! The final outcome of my ten day excursion was quite lovely. I feel amazing, lost 15.8lbs, and am a healthier me! The first few days sucked, but after the hunger pangs go away it's easier to say no to things. I started to crave the concoction instead of dread it. My stomach has definitely shrank. I ate two strawberries and half a banana and I thought I was going to explode. Getting back into eating is definitely something that needs to be done slowly. Overall, I highly recommend this if you're looking to clean out your insides. It was well worth the sacrifice.

Colon Cleanser...

Yes, I have embarked upon the unspeakable journey of eating only one thing for ten days. I suppose it sounds crazy to many people, but rumor has it the feeling after doing a colon cleanser is well worth the sacrifice. The particular colon cleanser that I chose to do is the Lemonade Master Cleanser. Dang doesn't that just sound so professional? It's actually really simple; 1/2 lemon, 2TBSP Grade B Organic Maple Syrup, 1/10 tsp Cayenne Pepper, 12 oz Purified Water. That's it. Drink that bad boy 6-12 times a day along with as much water as you want. (No, you cannot eat!) I'm currently on day 6. Only 4 more to go! I was going to post a picture of my, ahem, waste product, but I decided some people might get offended... although, this is MY blog, so I'm not sure why I'm worried about other people... Anyway, back to the story, I know you all are dying to know whether I've been having diarrhea for 6 days. Nope. I sure haven't. Although, just in the last day, I've started seeing the toxins/oils pass. Yes, I know you are probably grossed out by now, but what I'm trying to get across here is that this really does work. I will refrain from going any deeper, but if you should desire to know more, I will be more than happy to tell you all the nitty gritty details. 8+) Days one and two were the most difficult to get through, after that it's pretty smooth sailing minus the fact that you often have to sit and watch people eat real food. At first the concoction was hard for me to choke down, now I actually crave it. In fact, I think I'm going to get a glass right now...

A Year in Eternity...

Yesterday marked one year since Jared died. It's funny how we think of a year as 365 days... or five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. What does one year feel like in heaven? Time is such a weird concept. I am so structured around it, that the thought of not having it blows my mind. No, literally, if I think about it too hard, I'm pretty sure I would get a headache. I suppose that's the beauty of it. I wonder what it must be like to worship Jesus. I wonder what music sounds like in Heaven. I think everyone probably sings on key and harmonizes without fault. The drummer is always on beat and the pianist never misses a note. When I think about not seeing Jareba for the rest of my life, it makes my heart ache. However, something tells me that by the time we get to heaven, it'll be like we've never been apart. My tears are only a selfish desire to have my friend again, for he is dancing with Jesus!

Alive in Christ.

Mr. OCD

I was pretty sure this story deserved to not only be documented but also blogged. Therefore I present to you: OCD Guy.
Well, there I was minding my own pea-picking business on a small aircraft headed for South Carolina. Mind you, this is one of those amazing air crafts they decided to invent with only four seats across, and seventeen back, just to insure you feel the ride. I was pretty proud of myself for having a rather uneventful/boring travel home until this episode. United Airlines so graciously gave me the seat I requested against the window. (I like the idea of leaning against an aircraft rather than being that annoying person who awkwardly falls asleep on a stranger's shoulder.) I sat down and prepared for my next nap. Now, I must update you that at this point in time I had had a cold off and on for the last three weeks and was still suffering mildly from a cough. A nice looking man in his late twenties/early thirties sat down beside me. I coughed a couple of times. (I was careful to turn my head towards the window and stuff my face in my shirt sleeve so as not to spread my germs.) I think I coughed twice MAYBE three times and the gentleman next to me started to pointedly shift away from me and lean into the aisle. I found it slightly odd so I thought I'd strike up a conversation to avoid the awkwardness. Unfortunately, he didn't want to engage in any formalities and he made it clear by turning away and ignoring my 'hello'. What happened next is still baffling in my mind. He reached into his bag and pulled out a SURGICAL MASK, donned it, looked at me, made EYE CONTACT, and turned back to the aisle. I was like, "Dang, anything else?!?" I knew that this was my opportunity of a lifetime and that I must have proof of this amazing moment. Thus, the picture was taken discretely as I pretended to text on my phone and snapped this photograph of Mr. OCD.
I guess in retrospect I can't blame him as I was diagnosed with strep throat and the flu a couple days later. In fact, maybe he's psychic and saw into the future. Hmm....

Flying in December...

Well, tonight/today/yesterday I had my very own "Home Alone" experience. I always wondered what happened to people when their flights got cancelled. I'd never had it happen to me. Oh, we've all had our share of "delayed" flights, but I've never had the big red letters flashing "Cancelled, Cancelled, Cancelled" in my face. It's amazing how that one word can produce so much emotion. Of course there was the initial thought to bawl my eyes out. However, seeing that I'm a soldier now, I have to keep those tear ducts in check. The secondary emotions included rage, anger, disbelief, annoyance, and this antsy feeling that I had to figure something out RIGHT AWAY. I walked with the other couple hundred people to stand in line at the United Customer service desk. Now, this is the part in Home Alone when the mom realizes she left the kid and she's standing at the counter begging for any flight in the direction of home. Every person in line had their own "kid" at home. After standing there for a half an hour, one of the employees came out to inform the line of 500+ people that if their destination was Portland, they would have to step aside, they wouldn't be "dealt with" at this time. I thought about filing an EO complaint. Apparently there were no flights remotely open until Christmas Day, and even then it was slim to none. Overbooked flights with the capacity of 66 passengers with 72 people on standby. Yikes. I ended up on the phone with a customer service rep. (Well, I was on hold for 40 minutes before I actually got to talk to her...) She mentioned several flights and promptly followed it with, "Oh, nope, that one's full too." During our conversation I walked up and down the terminal looking at where flights were headed. I saw one for San Francisco that was doing their final boarding call. I walked up to the counter and listened to the man in front of me. He had a party of three and the United rep informed him she only had ONE seat left. He turned away defeated and I stepped up. I told her I wasn't suppose to be going to San Fran, but I HAD to PLEASE get out of Chicago and find a way West. She hesitated for a moment and then looked up and said, "Welcome aboard." This was quite a joyous moment for me. I would have done ANYTHING to get away from Chicago. Lines and lines of hundreds of people being told that they would be spending their Christmas in an airport terminal. Merry Christmas.
My arrival in San Francisco was a relief. Just the knowledge that if push came to shove, I could actually drive home, was a great feeling. My hope was to catch a standby flight to Eugene as PDX was still closed. I waited through three flights to Eugene. Unfortunately the flights held 50 passengers and there were almost 90 on the standby list. I was listed as number 50 - Let's just say the odds were not in my favor. I met some friends in the airport who were in the same boat I was in and were thinking about driving. I saw a flight going to Medford that only had 11 people on standby. (Hey, that's way better odds than 90+) They were in their final boarding call stage. I walked up to the counter and asked the rep if it would benefit me to take myself off the Eugene list and put myself on the Medford standby list. (you can only be on one standby list) He said it might. I took his optimism and waited as three names were called off before mine. None of them showed up - thus I got - once again - the last seat on the plane. Dang. You think I have good luck? Nah, I think Jesus just wanted to help me out. I definitely attribute being able to get anywhere, especially out of Chicago, to my God above.
Along the lines of dedicated, I have the most amazing parents. I called them to tell them I had just miraculously got on the Medford flight - their response was, I'll head out the door now. I write this blog as I sit waiting my father's arrival. He should be here in about 30 minutes. I am so very blessed.

Lady Jessica of Fort Gordon

Yesterday Dennis and I lived our childhood dreams of being born in Medieval times. We went with a couple of friends to Atlanta to the Medieval Times show. Although I thought it was amazing, I think Dennis could go to the show every night and never get tired of it. In fact, I think somewhere deep in his heart he was trying to justify a reason to buy the $9,000 suit of armor that was on display. As is Medieval tradition, we feasted and ate solely with our hands. It took me on a mental trip back to the days in India eating with the kids in the orphanage with our metal plates and hands. The actual Medieval show was crazy. The tricks they can do with those horses and the way they danced to the beat of music was tight. Yes, a giant four-footed animal dances better than me. Ahem, back to the food... (As that is always the most important part...) They served us tomato bisque, garlic bread, spare ribs, chicken game-hen thingy, garlic potato wedges, and apple crisp pastry thingy. It was quite delicious. I must admit though, I did have to keep telling myself that it was okay to eat with my hands and that I could trust my hearty immune system to not allow some microbacterium to compromise my body. So far, so good. Back to the story... as is customary in the fairy-tale stories, the Lord that the Princess favored won the battle, and of course, her heart. Cute. Cheesy. Just the way I like it. They encouraged crowd participation in voicing who you were cheering for, Dennis exercised this privilege to it's fullest. I can no longer hear out of my right ear. (Haha. Just kidding. About the hearing part...) We both agreed that we were born in the wrong century. It was, however, a night to remember.