HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JENS!!!

a very Happy Birthday to you from 6254 feet at Blue Lake today.... We are so grateful for you, Jens!!

Help, Thanks, Wow...

I posted this on my other blog and wanted to share it here too.... Jens, you are one of the best running buddies I know. :) 



This morning, Jason and I participated in the Cutthroat Classic. As stated on the MSTVA website: "Possibly the most incredible views you could ever have on a trail run! The Cutthroat Classic is a 11.1 mile trail run through the North Cascades, following the Pacific Crest Trail and over Cutthroat Pass." 

Following my tradition of running in honor of friends during races, I had two very special people that I carried with me on my run today. 

1) Jens Herman who has made it past the three month mark of his double lung transplant surgery on May 18th and who is a champion in my book. (And even better that he and Abby are starting to plan their wedding in 2015 that I will get to be a part of!!) http://www.cotaforjensh.com

  

2) Rudy Geyling (another champion in my book) who was born in the fall of 2008 with a heart condition called HLHS (which means that the left side of his heart is underdeveloped).   According to the last email I got from his parents (Rolf and Trish), Rudy continues to be in limbo regarding treatment to his heart but has made amazing progress developmentally this year.  www.rudysbeat.com 

  

This trail run is absolutely beautiful--- 11.1 miles of switchbacks and glory.  And with the clouds, rain and hail we've experienced in the last few days, the sunshine was not something that I took for granted this morning on this run.  

 

As I ran, I talked to several folks. At one point, one runner behind me and I started talking about where we were from and what our jobs were. When she heard that I worked at SPU, she immediately brought up the shooting in June and asked me about it. That story led to me sharing a bit about Boston and my experience there too. And the thing I ended saying to summarize the two experiences was that the only faithful response I knew was one of gratitude. 

Gratitude for being alive. 

Gratitude that I could be here today. 

Gratitude for this very moment- that I could run and see this. 

And then this thought led to the following mantra and prayer 

that I began to say in my mind as I continued up the trail: 

"THANK YOU FOR MY HEART. 

THANK YOU FOR MY LUNGS. 

HELP RUDY WITH HIS HEART. 

HELP JENS WITH HIS LUNGS." 

At one point after a bunch of switchbacks, my jaw dropped for the first time of many. 

(And since I carried a phone with me, I was able to snap a bunch of pictures along the way to capture some of the beauty we got to see.) 

Anne Lamott has a book called Help, Thanks, Wow

 in which she explains that prayer is best distilled into these three words.  

I continued my prayers for Rudy and Jens with my help/thanks mantra and then kept throwing in a bunch of "wows" in the mix for good measure. 

not hard to say "WOW" at this view!!! 

When I was running up some of the hills, I imagined my dear friend Elizabeth running up the hill and pushing me from behind and remembered this story with deep gratitude. I thought of how during my long runs like this that I carry so many stories with me. I got to carry the stories of Rudy and of Jens with me today but I also carry with me all those who have run alongside me and supported me along the way.  

Once again. my heart is filled with gratitude. 

I was so thankful for this race and for the pace my body was able to crank out... (and thankful that I came out at the finish line without any broken bones from the crazy running downhill-- there were lots of battle scars that runners crossed the finish line with from trips and falls along the way...).  

happy finishers... 

I found some rocks today that are for Rudy and Jens as a token from the day... 

(lung rocks and heart rocks!) :) 

to sum it up... 

HELP, 

THANKS, 

WOW.... 

what an amazing day....

Happy 18th!

Below is an article I ran across last month that I wanted to share with you because of the message here of courage.  I could write a "Profile in courage" article about you both with the resilience and the irrepressible spirit demonstrated in your lives. 

Happy 18th!! (THREE MONTHS TODAY!!!) 

Cheers to you today... 

Profiles in courage: An Olympian's biggest challenge

DENVER -- Five weeks have passed since former Olympic swimmer Amy Van Dyken Rouen suffered a severe spinal injury in an all-terrain vehicle accident. It has changed her life forever -- but not her attitude about how to live it.

On her first trip to a grocery store to learn how to shop in a wheelchair, it is clear there is only one word to describe her ... irrepressible.

She says she is feeling good about her recent accomplishments.

"Especially because I can reach the top stuff without having to ask anybody."

Discipline can also describe her. The kind it took a kid with asthma to train and win six Olympic swimming gold medals. The kind it takes to create a new life with husband Tom Rouen after the accident left her a paraplegic. A new life she calls scary, but fun.

For most, "fun" is not a word that would come to mind.

"It has to be fun. This is my new life. I have no other choice. This is what's happened to me. I am a paraplegic. You know, I had fun before in my life. This new, new life has to be fun as well. So fun. Fun it is."

Amy Van Dyken Rouen inspires others as a paraplegic.

 CBS NEWS

Spinal cord specialist Dr. Mark Johansen is her doctor at Craig Hospital in Englewood, Colo. He says there may be improvement in the months ahead, but he also had a medical reality check, as he reviewed x-rays of her severed spine with CBS News.

"She can't necessarily affect that just by her own sheer will. Like I say, if she could, her spinal cord would be healed by now."

If it was up to her, Amy would be walking already.

Play VIDEO

Olympian discharged from Colo. hospital

Her goal now is that her new life helps others. Already, paraplegics and others have sent messages saying she is an inspiration to their own healing.

She hopes to walk one day.

"I remember my old life and I remember being able to walk and run and wear high heels and be fabulous. But you know what? I can still wear high heels in this chair. They just won't hurt my feet," she says. "I will still be fabulous."

http://www.cbsnews.com/news/amy-van-dyken-remains-positive-after-severe-spinal-injury/

mindful meditation....

Pay attention. Be open to mystery…

Immerse your journey in prayer.

Speak and listen to God.

Be mindful- fully present.

Let go of your worries, unfinished tasks,

and responsibilities for a while. 

Too often, we focus on the past or the future.

Receive the gift of Now. 

Thich Nhat Hanh recommends

walking with no particular aim,

just for the sake of walking.

He instructs pilgrims to be aware of their breathing,

not controlling it but counting inhales and exhales

as a means of mindful meditation. 

Walk leisurely, at a pace that suits you.

The goal is not to finish the path,

but to absorb the wonders of God that are before you.

Be gentle with yourself.

Slow down.

Rest.

Be still and know God. 

-Susanne Hassell

Keep Running

Abby and Jens- this was a sermon my brother in law (Dan Cravy)

 preached last Sunday at First Presbyterial Missoula.  

I wanted to share it with you today in hopes that it will encourage you all to keep running today....  

(and it's just two days until your three month mark on the 18th so I thought it would be good timing to cheer you on for your 3 miler coming up!!) 

Keep Running

-[1]Some of you will remember a scene from the movie Chariots of Fire featuring a historic footrace in Scotland. It was one of the final races of the competition: the 440 yards (which is the precursor to the 400 meters, one length around the inside of the track). As the athletes come around the first bend, Eric Liddell gets pushed off the track and takes a fall. He has to make a split-second decision. One of those instants best portrayed by slow motion. Then like lightening Liddel’s up on his feet again, tearing after the pack. Unbelievably, he catches the lead runners just a few paces from the finish. And in this Herculean effort of focused athletic exertion, he throws his chest across the line to win the race.

What would you have done when you got knocked down? Many would have assumed that the race was lost. Many would have assumed they were out of the running. Many would have allowed the grave disappointment to overwhelm them. Many would have let the discouraging prospects for success overcome their hope.

But Eric Liddell might as well have been living into the passage we’re reading today. In fact, he was. Forget what lies behind. Strain forward toward what lies ahead. Press on toward the finish line. This is God’s encouragement to all of us today.

-[Read Philippians 3.10-11 intro; then 3.12-14]

-As I’ve suggested, Paul’s imagery here is athletic. He’s running the race of faithfulness. Straining forward. Pressing on toward the prize. Looking toward the finish. But what’s he running toward? What’s the goal? Verse 14. The heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. Which is not just heaven. But the day when Christ returns and his kingdom finally comes. The day when the world is remade. The day when heaven and earth become one. The day of resurrection. When we live with Christ face to face. When the darkness is banished, when the true King is all in all, when God wipes away the tears from our face. That’s what Paul’s running toward.

There is a passage right at the end of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. The ring of power has been destroyed. The Dark Lord Sauren has been vanquished. Despair has been overturned. And the small hobbits who have never looked equal to the task given them, who have been charged with facing grave danger and violent enemies on the perilous way to Mount Doom, Sam and Frodo wake from their exhaustion and injury to discover laughter and health and wholeness in Rivendell. In this place of restoration and music and renewal. Frodo wipes his eyes, looks to Sam in marvelous wonder, and asks: Sam, will everything sad come untrue?

Paul presses on. He pursues the return of the King. He races toward the day when everything sad will come untrue.

-‘Not that I have already attained this,’ he says. ‘Not that I have arrived.’ No. But in light of who the King is, in light of his truth and compassion, in light of his goodness, I let go of every worldly symbol of status and worth. Moreover I forget what failure and heartache lies behind. And I strain forward to what lies ahead.’ This is what maturity looks like. No despair over what could have been. No complacency with what is. No. The past is past. The future is assured. And Christian maturity keeps striving to grow in faith, hope and love. Christian maturity keeps striving to become more like Jesus. Christian maturity keeps resting in God’s grace and running toward the return of the King.

Here it is in sum: Followers of Christ expect a day when the truth and grace of Jesus flood the earth. And so we are free to live all of our days in light of that happy future. Brothers and sisters, the past is past. The future is assured. So keep running.

Now there are so many disappointments and devastations that could cause us to lose our footing.

Some of you are struggling, crushed by loss. How can we imagine moving forward without the one we can’t bear to be without? Keep running to Jesus.

Some of us you are struggling, filled with wary fears. The world is changing fast. The news is full of intractable conflict, disease and violence. Decision-making is gridlocked. Keep running to Jesus.

Some of you are struggling, hitting challenge after challenge – frightening illness, divorce, family in dire need of care. Keep running to Jesus.

Some of you are struggling, trying to live as persons of faith in a world whose values are so different than the values of Christ. You are misunderstood. You are attacked. Keep running to Jesus.

Jesus said this: ‘In your life you will face many trials, but take heart. I have overcome the world.’

-In 1923 Eric Liddell won the 100 yard dash in London that would propel him to the Olympic Games in Paris. But he was profoundly disappointed to discover that the qualifying heats were scheduled for a Sunday. Eric decided that his faith in Jesus Christ meant he could not run on a Sunday. So he announced his withdrawal and turned his attention to train for the 400 meter dash. Even the Prince of Whales could not convince Eric to enter his best event. So on the Sunday morning of the 100 meter dash, Eric Liddell was preaching in a Paris church even as the gun went off. The movie Chariots of Fire has it that his chosen text was from Isaiah: Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength. Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint. Eric quietly made his way through the heats of the 400 meters. He was not expected to win. But on the day of the race, after going to each of his competitors to shake his hand, Eric not only won the gold medal, but broke the world record, at 47.6 seconds.

-How do we keep going? How do we keep running this race of faith? Paul says: ‘I press on to make [the kingdom] my own because Christ Jesus has made me his own.’ ‘I’m hurrying on, eager to lay hold of heaven on earth because King Jesus has laid hold of me’ (Wright). Here’s the key to Paul’s endurance. Here’s the key to Liddell’s courageous faith. Christ is not only the one who compels us to run. Christ is not only the one who cheers us on from the stands. Christ is not only the one who beckons us on to the tape. No. Jesus Christ has entered the race. The King runs alongside us. It is Jesus who holds us up by his Spirit and helps us keep running to the finish. It is our Lord - with Easter hope, with resurrection power, with great love - who gives us the joy to keep running even when we would never make it on our own.

-In 1987 at age 19 Derek Redmond shattered the British record for the 400 meter dash (the same race his countryman had won in the 1924 Olympics). But Derek was forced to withdraw just minutes before his own 1988 Olympic race in Seoul because of injury. So when the ’92 Games in Barcelona arrived, it was finally Derek’s moment to medal. Derek’s father, Jim, accompanied him to Barcelona. The two were close friends. When Derek ran, it was as if his father were running right next to him.

The day of the semi-final race arrives. Father and son talk about Derek’s journey to get this far—his past heartbreaks and failures that have worked together to bring him finally to Barcelona. They agree that, no matter what may happen, Derek has to finish the race. The stadium is packed with 65,000 excited fans. The race begins and Derek seizes the lead. Coming down the backstretch, he is only 175 meters away from finishing, a shoo-in to make the finals. When he hears and feels the pop in his right hamstring. Derek falls to the track like he’s been shot. Tears stream down his face. His dream of an Olympic medal is destroyed.

But then, Derek lifts himself off the ground and starts hobbling painfully down the track toward the finish on one leg. When the crowd realizes what’s happening, they rise to their feet and begin to cheer. Then Derek’s father, who has rushed from the very top of the stadium jumps the fence and comes running across the field to Derek’s side. The father wraps his arm around his son’s waist. Derek sobs on his shoulders. And then arm and arm, as the crowd claps and cries and roars with cheers, the two finish the race. Derek’s father later says, “I’m the proudest father alive. I’m prouder of him than I would have been if he had won the gold medal.”

-Brothers and sisters, Christ is not only proud of our medal. He’s proud of our running. He’s proud of our hoping. He’s proud of our faithful living. He’s proud of our forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead. He’s proud of our running even as he carries us through our tears to the end.

So don’t be afraid. Don’t despair. Don’t give up. Keep running to Jesus. Keep running with Jesus -  to the end.

---

[1] N.T. Wright, Paul for Everyone: The Prison Letters, 121-2. First two paragraphs open as in Wright’s commentary.

thoughts from Glacier

I read this while we were backpacking in Glacier and thought of you all when reading it: 

"Growing seems to be a common trait among living things. 

But I wonder if anyone's ever done it better than an old pine. 

If you're a pine, growth seems to have a lot to do with making the best of where you get started. Sometimes that's just bare-bones, blustery, rocky outcrop of a place, inhospitable, with little soil or shelter, nurturing or encouragement. It may take a long time, but you somehow come to grips with it- this starting place.  You reach and reach, stretching needy roots over naked granite, through tiny cracks, down into crevices.  Until you finally find the footholds, the stability and sustenance you need. Then, someday, somehow, you transcend...growing up, while at the same time, growing down, and growing out.  Growing through all kinds of disasters. Growing through them. 

And that's all there is to it, it seems. Grow. Down. Out. Up. Don't stop. Just grow. 

Simple enough. But maybe it's the hardest, most important thing in the world. Maybe everything depends on it. Maybe the whole world depends on it." 

-Douglas Wood 

Elevation

This morning, Jason and I went for a run in the Missoula foothills today and my lungs were burning.  As were were climbing this hill, Jason said, "Blasted Elevation!" and it was so obvious that we were not in Seattle anymore. 

* Elevation for Seattle is 183 feet

* Elevation for Missoula is 3,209 feet

As we were running, Jason pointed to a spot and told me that we would turn around there. But when we got there, we could see a bit more to climb for a better view so he said, "Let's just go a little bit more.."  I was not too excited about more elevation at that point and felt like it was a bait and switch. :) But, off I went and got to our spot to turn around. 

Also, in my stream of consciousness way of thinking while I am running, 

I thought of this U2 song: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19KstSgU-c0

"Elevation"

High, higher than the sun
You shoot me from a gun
I need you to elevate me here

At the corner of your lips
As the orbit of your hips
Eclipse
You elevate my soul

I've got no self control
Been living like a mole now
Going down, excavation
I and I, in the sky
You make me feel like I can fly
So high
Elevation

A star
Lit up like a cigar
Strung out like a guitar
Maybe you can educate my mind

Explain all these controls
Can't sing but I've got soul
The goal is elevation

A mole
Digging in a hole
Digging up my soul now
Going down, excavation

I and I
In the sky
You make me feel like I can fly
So high
Elevation

Love
Lift me out of these blues
Won't you tell me something true
I believe in you

A mole
Digging in a hole
Digging up my soul now
Going down, excavation

I and I
In the sky
You make me feel like I can fly
So high
Elevation

Elevation
Elevation
Elevation
Elevation

As my lungs were burning and as I was thinking about elevation, I was thinking and praying for you.  When you are feeling so high and loving the view OR when you are climbing and feeling the burning in your lungs (and wanting to strangle the neck of the person dragging you up the hill), may you keep holding each other's hands and know that God's love is behind and before you. 

I will be out of touch for a few days since we are headed deep into the woods for a backpack trip- I will be praying for you on the trail and will be in touch when we return next weekend. 

1. 
   
2. 
   

for Olaf...

Just wanted you to know that Anna played 

a soundtrack last night in her concert to go with your shirt. 

Enjoy! 

http://youtu.be/-9wZOWdX5YU

asking the right questions...

This post below is such a powerful one about asking better questions... I offer it to you two today in hopes that it will encourage you and give you some ideas for going deeper and loving each other well. 

SAVE YOUR RELATIONSHIPS: ASK THE RIGHT QUESTIONS

Jan 162014

When I was a mama of three very tiny, very messy, very beautiful rug rats, we had DAYS THAT WENT ON FOR LIFETIMES. Craig left at 6:00 am every morning and as I watched his showered, ironed self leave the house I felt incredibly blessed and thrilled to have so much time alone with my babies and incredibly terrified and bitter to have so much time alone with my babies. If you don’t believe that all of those feelings can exist at once- well, you’ve never been a parent to many tiny, messy, beautiful rug rats.

When Craig returned each day at 6:00 pm (he actually returned at 5:50 but took a STUNNINGLY LONG TIME TO GET THE MAIL) he’d walk through the door, smile, and say– “So! How was your day?”

This question was like a spotlight pointed directly at the  chasm between his experience of a “DAY” and my experience of a “DAY.”  How was my day?

The question would linger in the air for a moment while I stared at Craig and the baby shoved her hand in my mouth like they do –  while the oldest screamed MOMMY I NEED HELP POOING from the bathroom and the middle one cried in the corner because I NEVER EVER EVER let her drink the dishwasher detergent. NOT EVER EVEN ONCE, MOMMY!!! And I’d look down at my spaghetti stained pajama top, unwashed hair, and gorgeous baby on my hip – and my eyes would wander around the room, pausing to notice the toys peppering the floor and the kids’ stunning new art on the fridge . . .

And I’d want to say:

How was my day? Today has been a lifetime. It was the best of times and the worst of times. There were moments when my heart was so full I thought I might explode, and there were other moments when my senses were under such intense assault that I was CERTAIN I’d explode. I was both lonely and absolutely desperate to be alone. I was saturated- just BOMBARDED with touch and then the second I put down this baby I yearned to smell her sweet skin again. I was simultaneously bored out of my skull and completely overwhelmed with so much to do. Today was too much and not enough. It was loud and silent. It was brutal and beautiful. I was at my very best today and then, just a moment later, at my very worst. At 3:30 today I decided that we should adopt four more children, and then at 3:35 I decided that we should give up the kids we already have for adoption. Husband – when your day is completely and totally dependent upon the moods and needs and schedules of tiny, messy, beautiful rug rats your day is ALL OF THE THINGS and NONE OF THE THINGS, sometimes within the same three minute period. But I’m not complaining. This is not a complaint, so don’t try to FIX IT. I wouldn’t have my day Any.Other.Way. I’m just saying- it’s a hell of a hard thing to explain- an entire day with lots of babies.

But I’d be too tired to say all of that. So I’d just cry, or yell, or smile and say “fine,” and then hand the baby over and run to Target to wander aisles aimlessly, because that’s all I ever really wanted. But I’d be a little sad because love is about really being seen and known and I wasn’t being seen or known then. Everything was really hard to explain. It made me lonely.

So we went went to therapy, like we do.

Through therapy, we learned to ask each other better questions. We learned that if we really want to know our people, if we really care to know them – we need to ask them better questions and then really listen to their answers. We need to ask questions that carry along with them this message: “I’m not just checking the box here. I really care what you have to say and how you feel. I really want to know you.” If we don’t want throw away answers, we can’t ask throw away questions. A caring question is a key that will unlock a room inside the person you love.

So Craig and I don’t ask “how was your day?” anymore.  After a few years of practicing increasingly intimate question asking, now we find ourselves asking each other questions like these:

When did you feel loved today?

When did you feel lonely?

What did I do today that made you feel appreciated?

What did I say that made you feel unnoticed?

What can I do to help you right now?

I know. WEEEEEIRRD at first. But not after a while. Not any weirder than asking the same damn empty questions you’ve always asked that illicit the same damn empty answers you’ve always gotten.

And so now when our kids get home from school, we don’t  say: “How was your day?” Because they don’t know. Their day was lots of things.

Instead we ask:

How did you feel during your spelling test?

What did you say to the new girl when you all went out to recess?

Did you feel lonely at all today?

Where there any times you felt proud of yourself today?

 And I never ask my friends:  How are you? Because they don’t know either.

Instead I ask:

How is your mom’s chemo going?

How’d that conference with Ben’s teacher turn out?

What’s going really well with work right now?

Questions are like gifts – it’s the thought behind them that the receiver really FEELS. We have to know the receiver to give the right gift and to ask the right question. Generic gifts and questions are all right, but personal gifts and questions feel better. Love is specific, I think. It’s an art. The more attention and time you give to your questions, the more beautiful the answers become.

Life is a conversation. Make it a good one.

- See more at: http://momastery.com/blog/2014/01/16/save-relationships-ask-right-questions/#sthash.YDRBWt5i.dpuf

Mom Gear

Yesterday, I was running alongside Taylor as he was biking. We ran to the post office, to the bookstore and to Green Lake where I helped him practice swimming strokes and we had fun cooling off.

While going up hills, I came behind him as I have done before and pushed him up the steep parts.  We joked and called this the "Mom Gear".

Thinking of you as you call on each other for the "Abby Gear" or the "Jens Gear" when you need that extra push...