...and, sometimes, you're the ball

I was scheduled to do a 21 mile run today. Weather is perfect in Georegetown. Sunny. 70ish degrees. Light wind. Denise had cooked a killer, pre-run meal last night - salmon with cumin and guacamole with a nice pasta salad. I hydrated pretty well through Saturday and again this morning.

But - it just was not meant to be. 

I knew something was up when my times for my first 2 miles were above 8:30.  My legs and feet felt fine. My breathing was good. I told myself I was just pacing, remembering my earlier 20 mile run and how I'd started to struggle around the 12 mile mark to keep the pace I'd set for myself.

I was kidding myself. Around 5 miles, as I started a lengthy climb, that nagging, 'it ain't happening,' feeling crept in. At 7 miles I opened my Gatorade. At 8 I ate a few jelly beans. I knew I was done.

Maybe it was the subject matter of the first podcast on my playlist; an episode of This American Life entitled, 'Slow to React.' Quite possibly the most depressing thing I've heard, read or watched in a long time. I do not recommend it. 

First story - a guy who was raped by a family friend at age 7 fantasizing about and planning for revenge. Second story - a guy who met his future wife in Korea, courted her from across the ocean for decades before they got married. This one could have been uplifting if not for the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about my slow pace and the 1st story. Third story - a woman who has lived with stage 4 breast cancer for 18 years. Again - could have, in a way, been uplifting if I could stop thinking about not having any energy, my slow pace, the poor guy who didn't get the chance to blow his attacker's head off and how unfair it was that this lady's family gets to keep her around because she joyfully and aggressively treats her cancer, even though it continues to slowly creep through her body.

Next up on the playlist was a terrific sermon on 'kindness' by Steve Daugherty - one of my favorite preachers - from Crosspointe Church in Cary, NC. Crosspointe is trekking through the Fruit of the Spirit and I love, love, love being challenged and taught by Steve and Jonathan Bow. 

Today, Steve's main point came from Jesus' response to the teacher of the law who reluctantly admits in Luke 10 that it is the Samaritan who acted as a neighbor, 'Go and do...and you will live.'

Steve contrasts Jesus' response with that of rabbi Hillel's, who'd said, in response to a similar question, 'go and learn.' 

While it's true that we learn by doing, so often I (we?) focus more on the learning than the doing. If we are truly following Jesus, walking in his Spirit, then the fruit of our lives will bear that out. One evidence will be that we are kind - that we love our neighbor. 

So, I'm running, I'm faced with the realization that today is just not my day, and I'm thinking - how often do I talk about this or that; read about this or that; learn about this or that - and, yet, when given the opportunity to go and do, I go and don't?  

I mean, I'm pretty good at loving 'people.' Things like the 30 Hour Famine, service projects at local shelters, raising money for Not For Sale in order to combat modern day slavery - all get me jazzed to no end.

But being kind to the people right here next to me? That's another story altogether some times.

I live with a woman who is the epitome of kindness to me, her family, the people she works with - the 'neighbors' in her life. Latest example? Smilingly coming to pick me up on the bypass this morning right in the middle of 'Denise' time.

I have other such friends. I challenge anyone who knows Eric Quackenbush to speak of one mean thing they've ever known him to say or do (Ann and kids could probably do so, but they aren't reading this :) ) I've known Ben Gregory literally 39 years and have yet to hear him speak ill of anyone. He simply enjoys people for who they are. (Again - Ruthie and the boys could likely dispute this, but I'm sure they aren't reading either). It always makes me smile when he calls the waitress at Waffle House by name when he orders his breakfast. It's not a transaction. It's a conversation about eggs and coffee.

Understand - kindness is not simply the absence of meanness. It's acting joyfully lovingly. Like, 'Thank you for the opportunity to help to be in your life in this way.'

That's Denise. That's Eric. That's Ben.

It's most certainly not me. At least not often enough.

And, while it's good for me to be reminded that if I'm going to bear the Name, I need not do it in vain, I am not sure that 7 miles into an already disappointing run was the time.

Or. Maybe it was.