A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat,
so that it was already filling up.
Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion.
They woke him and said to him,"Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?"
He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Quiet! Be still!"
The wind ceased and there was great calm.
Then he asked them, "Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?"
I've been thinking a lot about this Gospel and the subsequent homily that I heard, about how often we think that Jesus is "asleep" in our lives just because we don't see His active
movement. I've been thinking and praying about this, especially because lately I've been feeling kind of isolated (though I love living alone, sometimes I also get lonely) and wondering what is keeping me in Boston, given that I have many friends in other cities who are encouraging me to move closer.
Since Sunday, I've been asking God, "Why do I feel like you're asleep? How are you working in my life that I can't see? Why aren't you calming my internal storm of listlessness?"
So you can imagine my surprise when I woke up at 4am and knew the answer:
Running. Fitness. Strength. Health.
Sure, I can pretend that if I lived closer to my friends, I would still care this much about my health. I can assure myself that if I had things to distract me, I would still be running 8-10 miles a week. I can guarantee myself that living closer to other people would be more active because I'd have work-out buddies.
But I'd be lying.
Four years ago in France, I was speaking with a South African seminary student, who explained to me the different types of grace. I've forgotten most of the conversation, but I remember an explanation of one kind of grace, a grace whose entire purpose is to get you out the door to church, or at least in pursuit of God. You may resist the grace, but it is constantly calling you to your knees.
That's where God's been hiding for me: in the grace to get me out the door. This desire to be fit, to be healthy, to be strong - this desire has been planted into my heart. The desire to run and the grace to move me are both God's gifts to me in this time of relative simplicity, so that I may use my body to His greater glory.
And as this all started coming together at 4 this morning, I knew I wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep, so I did the next logical thing: I laced up my shoes and was out the door at 5:30.
I've been trying for weeks to make it 3 miles in under 40 minutes, and somehow, this morning, I knew it was worth another shot. I set my Nike+ for 5K distance, set my iPod to my 2Tim4:7 playlist ("I have fought the fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith"), and I hit the road.
I know I've written about the spiritual value of running to these songs before, and I could go through a short novel about how each of these songs spurs me on; however, with this 4am revelation of grace, there was one song that sums it all up:
Great is Your Faithfulness, O God
You wrestle with the sinner's restless heart
Just as He asked His disciples, "Do you not yet have faith?" in the same way He is patient with me, wrestling through all of my fears and insecurities to get at my heart.
You lead us by still waters into mercy
And nothing can keep us apart
At this point in my running, I was on the Upper Charles River Path, so I looked to my right and saw the "still waters" of the Charles and almost felt a little spring in my step, propelling me forward.
So remember Your people, remember Your children
Remember Your promise, O God
The singer isn't really reminding God, but allowing the thought of God's promises to come back into the collective memory - God doesn't forget His promises, but sometimes we forget all that He has done and all that He continues to do.
Your Grace is enough, Your Grace is enough
Your Grace is enough for me
I read an article with this song's author, Matt Maher, a number of years ago (which of course I can't find now). Matt talked about a time when he was in his mid-20s and kept asking God to give him something to fill the ache of loneliness and God's eventual response was along the lines of, "No Matt, I have to be enough." And Matt took the story of Jacob and layered it over St. Paul's 2 Cor 12:
... a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated.
Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me,
but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.
Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.
And it was in reflecting on this idea of the thorn of loneliness that I realized that in my weakness and isolation, that is where I can find strength in Him. And it is in my inability to run quickly that I can gain strength and stamina and endurance from Him, for, as many athletes say, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
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