Midwinter, but this is not the end of me

Darkest day of the year.  Exactly 3 months post op.  Exactly 3 months to go to my first day back running, Lord willing.  So, this is the bottom, and it’s been dark sledding lately.  The Lord has been merciful with His reminders of how blessed and rich I am.  I try with varying fervor day after day to repent of my ingratitude, and probably years from now I’ll read this over and it will seem completely silly.  I mean, it’s only running.  Come on.  Feels like there is more to it, though.  Over the last several years running has become so much a part of my identity that I feel pretty empty without it.  Here I’m 5 years from 50 and I don’t really have anything to show for my career.  I haven’t accomplished anything noteworthy and every large endeavor I’ve undertaken in recent years in my work has pretty much failed.  Getting out on a track or a set of hills and pushing hard, that’s when I feel the most alive.  I can run pretty fast.  Not world class or anything, but faster than most folks.  At least I got that going for me, or did have.

There was a time when I was known by my peers for my faith in Jesus Christ more than anything else, more than academic achievements or running or other relationships.  There was a time when I said, “100% for Jesus,” and I meant it with all my heart and made choices according to that passion the very best I could.  For sure my faith has grown deeper and more mature in many ways over the last three decades.  In many ways I am a better, more complete follower of Jesus than I was as a teenager.  Over the last few months, however, especially as the Lord was taking my running away from me, I think the passion in my heart for the Lord has cooled.  This is not a good state of affairs, I think.  If I read the Scriptures right, the Lord is a lot more concerned with my heart of passion for Him than He is with the knowledge in my head.  These days, the lows are not as low, the spiritual failures are not as black or frequent as they were then, but the highs are not as high, either.  Sometimes it just feels like the love is not there as it once was.  I think I feel the Lord stirring revival in my heart, though.  Amen, come Lord Jesus.

One of the unforeseen side effects of adopting Lulit has been meeting Ethiopian people in our community from time to time.  I think all international adoptive families are encouraged to try to keep in touch with their child’s country and culture of origin, but I honestly thought that with our busy lives with three other children the chances would be about nil that we would actually do anything in this regard.  I have to give Kay credit, however.  She has tried to find these kinds of opportunities for us.  Meeting Kassa’s family, however, seems extraordinarily and especially orchestrated by God Himself.  We met them because our 5^th grader is in class with their daughter, and finally in recent weeks we have been getting to know them better.  They came over to our house recently.

Kassa was brought up in an Orthodox home in eastern Ethiopia where he was taught to stay away from evangelical, protestant Christians.  They had a “different” Jesus, he was told, and he should just hang on to the traditions of the Orthodox Church.  Nevertheless, as his acquaintances again and again turned his attention to the Scriptures he finally could not escape this Jesus who was not distant, was not hidden behind layers of priests and traditions, was not unknowable, but in reality is active and present and personal.  In more recent days he has heard the call of God to move his family from San Diego to Olathe to plant churches on both sides of the state line.  And he is one of the warmest and kindest souls I have ever met in addition to being absolutely uncompromising about the truth of Christ’s gospel (his bumper stickers say, in English and Amharic, “Ignoring Jesus is choosing hell.”)  Salty!

My wife was telling Kassa and Tigist some of the hard struggles we have had with Lulit the last 2-1/2 years.  As wonderful as it has been to bring Lulit into our family, it has also involved a significant amount of sacrifice.  It’s been especially hard on Kay, and she has had some tough days.  Ever the preacher (very much in a good way), Kassa said, “When I have been up against struggles and disappointment in my life, I have told myself, ‘This is not the end of me,’” reminding us that Christ has already won the victory.  No matter what happens, the outcome of this story is known.  We win because Jesus won.  This is not the end of me.

Kassa’s words ran through me with new hope.  A great reminder.  I’m still struggling with not running, doubts about whether or not I’ll ever run the way I want to ever again, worries about my career future and how I will continue to provide for my family in the years to come, and general feelings of disappointment with myself as having amounted to not much.  All this is balanced on the other side, of course, with wonderful things happening in the lives of my kids and the rich relationships I enjoy with them, and above all with faith.  Probably not very good faith, but some faith.  The racing shoes will stay up high in the closet for some time to come, but I gotta believe:  in faith, in family, in work and even in running, this is not the end of me.