Tales of a 15K

In Genesis 50:20 Joseph, who was sold into slavery by his brothers, gets an opportunity, years later, to face them.  He has had much time to dwell on what his brothers did, but there is no malice in his heart. Instead he stands before them and says, “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.”

On February 9, 2013, I had a “Joseph” moment.  The day dawned cool and crisp.  I was excited to be in Dallas, at the Cotton Bowl, preparing to run the Hot Chocolate 15K (click to view finish line photo) with my 20 year old niece, Melissa.  She started running less than a year ago and is just beginning to branch out into distance runs.  This 15K was our first run together.  She and I had discussed our target pace and finish time goal.  Despite taking the “scenic route” to the Cotton Bowl we managed to line up in our starting corral well before the gun sounded.

Normally, I am what my husband calls a “race snob”. I hate to be trapped in the pack at the beginning of a race. I waste a lot of valuable energy bobbing and weaving around people.  I decided to take a different approach this race; I kept a steady pace and only moved around people when the choice was that, or run them over!  This technique worked rather well.  My newest running buddy, Gertrude the Garmin, likes to beep at me whether I’m ON PACE, BEHIND PACE or AHEAD OF PACE.   I’m happy to report; we were only BEHIND PACE twice; once when we running up hill and once we’d slowed down at a water stop.

Despite a few noticeable changes in grade, the race felt easy. I was surprised because my training runs had not gone so well.  No doubt, the incentive to not fall behind my 25 years younger, 25 pounds lighter, niece helped.  My official finish time was 1:31, my Garmin had me at 1:30, but I won’t bicker over a minute.  I was ecstatic!  I had finished right on target!!!

Pre Halo Removal - 02/09/2012But wait, there’s more!!  In October 2011, about a month before the accident that left me with a broken neck, clavicle, scapula and ribs, I completed the Chosen Half Marathon for adoption.  I finished that race in 2:08, a personal record for me.  It was my last big race before the wreck.  I save all of my race bibs and usually record the date, finish time and whether I placed in my age division.  Because I set a person record in that race, I also recorded my official pace, 9:49.  I’ve run two half marathons since recovering from the accident, but my pace has been nowhere near what it was pre-accident, until now.  My official pace in the Hot Chocolate 15K was 9:49!!!  When I saw that number, I could only weep tears of joy over what the Lord has done in my life.  Not only did He save me, not only did He heal me, but He fully restored me!!

Post Halo Removal - 02/09/2012As if all of that was not enough, the race took place EXACTLY one year, to the date, after the titanium halo I wore for three months was removed.  The halo was removed February 9, 2012.  Like Joseph, I stand in awe at how God has used the thing that was meant for evil against me, to bring good not only to me, but also to all the people who’ve been witness to the journey.

Farewell to Haiti

Wow!! It never crossed my mind that I would welcome the new year in thousands of miles from home serving on the mission field, but here I am. It’s officially 2013 and I’m in Haiti. I can’t help but think God was very intentional regarding my location for the first day of the year. My hope is 2013 will be filled with opportunities for me to serve in a missions capacity.

Tomorrow I board a plane for Texas, and I am sad to leave. I truly love Haiti and it’s people. I was told once that there is healing in my smile.  I’m not really outgoing, but it’s easy to smile. What I found amazing was how easily a smile can change someone’s countenance.  Every single person I smiled at smiled back, and not one of them had seemed to welcome my presence before I smiled. One lady was sitting in a crowded tap-tap just scowling my direction. I fixed my smile on her and watched in awe as she shrugged as if to say, “okay you win” and smiled back. Tonight at the grocery store a man kept staring at my feet. I caught his eye and smiled. He immediately broke into a grin and even asked how I was doing. I think I’ll continue this practice stateside.

Loving on orphans is definitely where I’m most comfortable. I try to show them all attention, but inevitably I always end up bonding strongly with one or two.  Yesterday I walked by the toddler room at bathtime; all those cute little kiddos, running around soaking wet and naked. One of them just stood there scowling. He would not smile. I kept trying to change his countenance, but eventually ended up in tears, overwhelmed that a child who’s barely three could carry so much sadness. Fortunately he’s matched with a family. My prayer for Hugo is that soon he’ll be with his forever family, and the sadness would be replaced with joy.  Then there’s my most favorite, not quite six month old Baby Q Tip. His real name sounds something like Gerbil, but he earned the Q Tip moniker because of the fluffy little tuffet of hair on top of his head.  He has soft, chubby cheeks, beautiful dark, smooth skin and the sweetest little grin. He has such a peaceful disposition, he fell asleep in my arms three times. He’s been at the orphanage most of his short life and is not yet matched with a family. I left tear stains on his cheeks as I laid him in his crib and kissed him good bye for the last time.  My prayer for him is that not only will he be matched quickly with a family, but that the process will be quick and he won’t have to spend two years waiting to go home with his forever family.

Haiti, I bid thee farewell, but will carry a piece of you in my heart always.

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Doing it Haitian Style

Whenever I visit a foreign country I love to immerse myself in the culture.  I want to eat what they eat, travel how they travel, just experience, on a very small scale, what their lives are like. While in Haiti the team has a choice of travelling in the orphanage van or a hired taptap. A taptap is basically a small pick up truck with two benches bolted in the bed, an open back, no seatbelts and an corrugated tin roof. It’s hot, dusty, terribly bumpy and comfortable, but the best way to see what’s going on in the streets of Haiti. The Haiti of today is much different from when I came after the earthquake in 2010. Much of the rubble is gone and there are many more street vendors selling everything from furniture to toothpaste. It was exciting to see all the fresh fruits and vegetables available.

Some Haitian crusade workers joined us for lunch at the orphanage yesterday.   A spontaneous time of singing and dancing broke out. They were keeping a beat with drums, pots, lids, etc.  One of our team members even had a dance off with a local. Tiffany totally had her beat until the other lady threw her hips into it and literally bumped Tiffany across the floor.  We had a great time.

There has been a nightly open air crusade that we’ve participated in. It’s pretty amazing to worship with Haitians, its a full body experience. They dance with wild abandon and sing with passion. It’s really hard to allow myself that type of freedom. I think I have much to learn.

This is short, but breakfast is served. Bon jour.

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Adventures in Haiti

Friday was the team’s first full day in Haiti. We were rudely awakened by a rooster crowing at 2:45 a.m. Apparently he was confused about when daybreak occurs.  Fortunately we were able to get a few hours more sleep after our wake up call.  Breakfast was actually quite “American”; scrambled eggs, toast, jelly, bananas and fresh squeezed juice. I was particularly excited about the banana as I’d prepared myself for the absence of fruit or vegetables this week.

After breakfast we loaded up supplies for the treacherous drive to a retreat center. Traffic in Haiti is something you just have to expedience for yourself. I’m not even sure Nascar drivers would survive, but our Haitian driver was quite skilled and we arrived with all body parts intact. 

We spent the remainder of Friday and all of Saturday hosting a conference for about 50 Haitian women. I was admittedly apprehensive. I don’t mingle well with women who speak English; add a foreign language to the mix well, it’s even more of a struggle. I have very çonflicting emotions about the weekend. I’m not sure my presence added any value. I did get an opportunity to share with the women part of my testimony and also some things I felt like the Lord had spoken just for them. I was honored to have that opportunity as I’ve prayed for the Lord to open doors for me to share how He saved my life. 

Tomorrow we are off to spend some time at the orphanage. Loving on babies who have no mama is where I find contentment. 

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Tale of a Tattoo

The idea of a tattoo is something I have toyed with for more than ten years.  I didn’t want just some random design, I wanted a tattoo that meant something.  How I ended up with my tattoo makes for an interesting story.

On the morning of November 19, 2011 as I was preparing to run the Warrior Dash in Cedar Creek, I posted these words, “Today I shall defeat 3.1 hellish miles & 12 obstacles to be promoted from Mere Mortal to Warrior Princess! @WarriorDash  When I made that statement, that I had no idea how my day would end (See my post: The Princess Speaks) , or that I would forevermore be dubbed the Warrior Princess.  I’m really not sure who started it, or why it stuck, but it did.  My sister-in-law made me a Warrior Princess card and sign for my hospital room, a good friend designed a custom Warrior Princess t-shirt, my other sister-in-law made me a pink camouflage blanket she had embroidered with Warrior Princess and my dad and step-mom had a Warrior Princess key ring made for me.  After surviving the accident, it made perfect sense that my new-found moniker somehow be incorporated into a tattoo.  The only question was, “How?”

One night as I was crawling into bed, I wondered, “Who do I know that is an artist?” Immediately my Australian friend, Michelle George, came to mind.  Michelle is a talented artist, and though we have never met, social media has connected us as friends.  We chatted frequently before the accident.  She even mailed me a package full of Australian souveniers after the accident.  I emailed her the next morning explaining what I wanted and asking if she was up to the challenge.  She was!!!

I wanted the tattoo to serve as a testimony of God’s goodness, a reminder of how He spared my life.  Since I wear racer bank tank tops when I run, I knew I wanted the tattoo on my shoulder, the one broken in the accident.  My hope is people will see the tattoo, ask about its meaning and then I will have the opportunity to share my story.  I explained all that to Michelle, and gave her a few guidelines.  Her finished product is exactly what I had imagined.  The flowers above warrior are actually part of a tiara symbolic for princess.  The date of the accident, not intended to be a focal point, is subtly included as part of the tiara.

Sometimes when I am facing a particularly challenging situation,I remember the word tattooed on my shoulder. It reminds me that through Christ, I am able to overcome any obstacle.

 

One Year Post Mortem

November 19, 2011, the day I was supposed to die.  Almost three hundred & sixty-five days have passed and I am still very much alive.  As the one year anniversary approaches, I struggle.  Most of the physical pain of the accident itself is far behind me.  Other than slightly limited mobility in my neck, I suffer no long-term physical effects, even the scars on my neck, forehead and shoulder are barely visible.  To a stranger, I look normal, there is no tell-tale indication of the trauma I endured.  For that I am grateful.  There are still a few loose ends related to medical bills and insurance settlements, but nothing that plagues me. My emotional wounds however, are still a little raw.

There are days it seems my life will forever be divided into “pre” and “post” accident.  Before the accident I was scared of very little, a bit of a daredevil actually.  Today I am very much aware of my body’s fragility.  At my father’s 60th birthday party, an attempt to ride go carts was disastrous.  I barely made one lap around the track.  All I could think was, “I’m not wearing a helmet, if I crash I could fly head first into the pavement and break my neck again.”  I kept my cool long enough to park the go-cart, but collapsed into tears once I climbed out.  I am uncomfortable driving on the highway, especially at night.  My neck doesn’t turn towards the back well, and judging a car’s distance based on headlights in a rear view mirror is tricky. Walt Disney World’s Space Mountain used to be my all time favorite ride.  Not anymore.  I braved a ride on it this summer and spent the entire time praying I would survive, promising God that if I made it off alive I’d never ride Space Mountain again.  it’s a promise I’ll have no difficulty keeping.

What plagues me most is wondering why I lived.  Why did God set me apart?  Why did He save me?  A co-worker recently lost her cousin in an accident very similar to mine.  She was in the back seat of a vehicle that was rear ended by a semi, she broke her neck and died at the scene.  A friend’s younger brother died earlier this year.  He was younger than me and left behind a teen age daughter.  Why did their lives end while mine continues on?  Please do not misunderstand. I am not looking for an exit strategy.  I want to be around to see my children, nieces and nephews grow up, launch their careers and start families. I want to be part of their lives. I want to meet my future grandchildren. I want to graduate from college (yes, I’m a little behind in that department).  I want to travel the globe and love on orphans. I want to be a published (i.e., paid) author.   There is much to live for, but still I wonder why God chose to save me.

As I reflect on the last year I wonder if He is pleased?  Have I lived up to His expectation?  What have I accomplished this last year?  What difference have I made in the lives of those around me?  Am I leaving an indelible mark on the world?  Am I walking down the path He has chosen for me?  Am I fulfilling my purpose?  Today a very dear friend mentioned the upcoming anniversary and asked how I am.  My eyes started to sting and I had to fight back tears because I really am not sure.  I mean, I haven’t found a cure for cancer (though, I wasn’t trying either), or achieved any earth shattering feat.  Maybe I was just supposed to spend this year making a full recovery.  I am certain I accomplished that.

As the accident grows smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror of my mind, I pray that   His light is reflected in my life and spills over through my actions.  I pray that my existence brings Him glory.  I pray that my story of survival offers hope.  I pray that I am able to accomplish all that He has for me.  I pray that when my time does come, He will welcome me home with the soft words, “well done good and faithful servant.”

Chosen Half Marathon for Adoption

Spend any time at River Stone Community Church in San Marcos, Texas and I guarantee the subject of orphan care/adoption will come up.  I was raised in church, but prior to our arrival at River Stone in 2009, never before had I heard orphan care preached as part of the gospel message. I naively thought adoption was something only people who were unable to have children in the traditional manner pursued.  Boy was I wrong!!!

When we arrived at River Stone in 2009 there were already five former orphans living with their forever families; four international adoptions and one domestic. Since 2009 eight more families have adopted eleven children.  Having closely witnessed many of these adoptions unfold, I can honestly say, adoption is a completely unselfish, expensive, complicated, difficult and heart wrenching but extremely beautiful and worthwhile process.  Not only have I witnessed these children united with their forever families, but I have been honored to play a role on many different levels; one of my favorite has been participating in the Chosen Half Marathon for Adoption hosted in Gruene, TX.

Had I not been challenged to register for the Chosen in 2010, I don’t believe I would be the runner I am today.  Training for that race is where I got my start as a distance runner, but no matter how many half marathons I run, none will ever have the special meaning this one does.  When registering, runners may choose to run for a certain team; the teams are made up of families who are in the process of adopting.  In 2010 I ran for the Bollinger Family. When I crossed the finish line their beautiful new Ukrainian daughters, Olivia & Natalia were there to greet me.  In 2011 I ran for the Guenther Family. Heart breaking to me is the circumstances that keep their son, Wilson in a Haitian orphanage, held up by paperwork.  Yesterday I ran for the Simmons Family.  I met their son Leo, also from Ukraine, for the first time today.

In 2010, I completed the race in 2:28, my goal was 2:30.  I spent the next year training hard and finished 2011′s race in 2:08!!  There were quite a few runners from River Stone & I was the second member to cross the finish line.  I had planned for a sub 2 hour race in 2012, little did I know I would be side lined after a terrible car accident in November 2011 that left me with a broken neck.  Starting the race yesterday, my only goal was to finish.  I finished the USAF Half Marathon in Dayton, Ohio 6 weeks ago in 2:25, but I had only completed two long 10 mile training runs since then. I honestly wasn’t sure I was prepared, but this race was all about Leo, I was out there for him.  Surprisingly I finished the race in 2:16, faster than I’d run just 6 weeks ago!!  Part of me struggled over the athletic set back, part of me struggled with being the last River Stone runner to finish this year, but then I stopped to think about what could have been, and realized that I had nothing to be sad about.

James 1:27 has become one of my favorite verses; “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” My hope is that every aspect of my life would be a reflection of this verse.