Two Races

I finished two races last Saturday. We’ll, I actually finished one and watched the other being finished. My nephew Craig and I ran in the RunChikinRun 10K race in Murfreesboro. For you non-runners, 10K is about 6 and ½ miles. And for you people who think the race is named after my legs, it is sponsored by Chik-fil-let. There, we got that straight.
It was a gorgeous day. About 1000 runners ran across the Greenway and through the Stones River Civil War Battlefield. I finished in the top ten in my age group (out of 12) and all in all we did pretty well, finishing just over 6 miles in about an hour. It was fun to run with Craig and we saw a lot of friends along the way. At the end Chera, my niece, and Josh, Jennifer and Jon-Mical were waiting for us, cheering us on. Really cool.
The other race took a little longer. Vernette Cantrell died on Wednesday and was buried on Saturday. She was nearly 96. She started her race a long time before I ever thought about running. My guess is she passed through a lot of battlefields on her run and saw a lot of friends come and go along the way. She had been married to my father-in-law for 10 years, after both his wife and her husband had already finished their races.
Vernette was an amazing woman. She gave her life to the church and counted doctors, college professors, and pastors in her family. Not to mention the fact that for 10 years she loved my father-in-law and our family and allowed us to love her. She and Pa, Doris’s dad, supported me and accepted me during my most stupid years, and cheered for my recovery over the last 8.
Speaking of cheering, at her funeral on Saturday the church was full of people she had impacted, ministers she had helped, and the two families she had loved. We sang her favorite songs, told stories about her and laughed, wept together over scripture, took her to the cemetery then went into the fellowship hall and ate fried chicken and potato salad in her honor. It was quite a finish to a race well run.
I haven’t finished that one yet but I am running it. And so are you. Someday, when we’ve crossed the last finish line some people will gather around what is left of us on this planet and sing our favorite songs, tell stories about us, weep over scripture, take us to a cemetery and throw dirt in our face. Then they will go back to the church and eat fried chicken and potato salad. And all that will matter at that point is how well we ran the race. Did we love God? Were we good to the people He gave to us? Did we open ourselves up to love and be loved? Were we honest about our faults and realistic about our failures? Most of the stuff we are worrying about today will not even be on the radar screen. As Paul said, “I have fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith. Now there is waiting for me my reward, a crown of righteousness.” On Saturday Vernette crossed the finish line and I am very sure was handed a huge crown of righteousness by our Amazing Savior. Pretty good deal, huh?
Craig and I got a T-shirt. Keep running. Mike

God Loves You for the Email Tell Us So

I wrote an email this morning to a friend. I asked her permission to share it with you. I hope you'll take the time to read it. As usual, the names and details are changed to protect confidentiality but the story is true. God does love you. I write these for the Branches newsletter (www.branchesrecoverycenter.com) but not everyone on the internet gets the newsletter. Go figure...



Dear Friend,

It's 2 o'clock in the morning and both of us should be asleep. I know I'm not and I'm guessing you may not be either. Instead I'm sitting on the couch watching the lightning flash and thinking about how much God loves us. Not us as in "He's got the whole world in His hands" but us as in me and you, specifically, by name, in person you there and me here, He loves us.
I had a typical day today. I saw a woman who is so depressed she can hardly get her head off the pillow. The I saw a young professional man whose sexual sin has become so hideous that he has lost his family and pretty much everything he holds dear. I saw a guy that is wracked with the guilt and shame. Next I saw Doris for lunch. (She's not crazy I just saw her for lunch and it was great). I finished the afternoon by sitting with a couple that is watching their love for each other disintegrate over a struggle to understand intimacy. And then a beautiful, Godly, really neat woman who has spent her whole life trying to perform just right to please a God that she thinks is unpleasable and sees her as a miserable failure.
You know what? I only have one message for each one of them. God loves them. Not as a group, or in a general sense. I mean He knows each one of them by name and He knows their story and He loves them with this incredible, undying, everlasting love. He really loves them. and if somehow I could just help them see that everyone of their situations would be a thousand times better. Oh, they would still have stuff. They might still need medicine, and have more bills than paycheck. They might even still get divorces and struggle with sin. But they would know that God loves them for who they are, that He's crazy about them and He wants more than anything to help them get things on the right track and to find a peace that, well, that is beyond understanding.
If I could only help them see that but heck, half the time I forget it myself. It is such a simple concept. And most of us know it in our heads. A lot of us even believe it in our hearts...for everybody else. But not for ourselves. "For God so loved the world" is really not about the world at all. It's about me. And its about you. Its about a huge, magnificent, incredible God, calling my name and saying, "Hey, you with the too big nose and thinning hair, I am absolutely crazy about you. I think you are the greatest thing since sliced bread. I really do love you."
No wonder Paul said, "I pray that you, being rooted and grounded in God's love, might have the power to grasp how wide and long and high and deep the love of Christ is for you. and to know this love that surpasses knowledge." Even Paul knew that you and me would have a hard time really getting it. God loves us.
When I was in my darkest days I had a cd that I used to play a thousand times a day. Actually just one song, over and over and over again. It was my sister singing, "God loves you,and He wants you to know, He is with you. You are not alone. He will see you through. God loves you." I love to hear my sister sing. I still listen to it a couple of times a week. That is the lesson if we all could get, well, we'd be okay. And tonight, at 2 o'clock in the morning it is the lesson just for you. He loves you. Not because He's God and He's supposed to but because you are you and He wants to. Now go to bed and get some sleep. You're hard to love when you're cranky. Mike

Boundaries, Zombies, and Freedom

I had an idea the other day. I was talking to a young friend who is having a difficult time establishing and making boundaries in his life. He gets into trouble because he hasn’t decided where his life begins and other peoples ends. Paul says in Ephesians 4:14 that when we are like that we are like a ship adrift on a sea, “tossed about by every wave of new ideas.” We are easily persuaded to do this thing that we might not otherwise do or go to this place that we might otherwise not go.

So I suggested to my young friend that he write out a short list of a few rules to live by, things that he would operate by when the pressure came from other places to make a bad decision. He jumped all over that. He was so excited. “Dude,” he exclaimed. (I love to be included in the dude crowd.) “Dude, that’s just like the movie Zombieland. This guy had a bunch of rules that helped him to not get eaten by the zombies.” Well, what do you know? I had no idea that I was so artistically in tune with the creator of such a cinematic classic. I am so blessed to know that Mike Courtney, Cecil B. DeMille and the director of Zombieland have similar genius.

Cecil B. DeMille, in case you miss my witty reference directed The Ten Commandments. Remember Charlton Heston and the Red Sea and God writing His rules on a tablet of stone. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so witty after all. But the problem is that many of us think rules, ours or God’s, take away our freedom and make us zombies. We just stumble around with our arms straight out and our eyes have closed doing what we are told to do and not allowed to have any fun or be our own person.

Obviously you’ve missed the finer nuances of that work of art. In Zombieland it was the rules that kept the guy from getting eaten. The people without rules got caught and turned into zombies. In other words boundaries and commandments and living according to God’s plan for us, rather that impeding our freedom actually keeps us free. When I make Jon-Mical, my grandson, hold my hand while we walk across the parking lot, I know that I am keeping him free by not letting him get hurt by a life without rules. Paul again talks about that in Romans 5 and 6 when he says that without the law we wouldn’t know what sin is. And without sin we wouldn’t know what grace is. Dudes, let me put that in words you can understand. If it weren’t for rules you wouldn’t know the zombies from the, well from the dudes and dudettes. And if you didn’t recognize the zombies you wouldn’t know how good it is to not be a zombie. Get it?

Well, let me try one more time. Knowing and living by the boundaries that God has placed in my life does not take my freedom away. In fact, it keeps me from the many pitfalls in life that would destroy both me and my freedom. So the rules in fact keep me free and that is a wonderful gift from God. No wonder the Psalmist says, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.” Psalm 16:6
On this weekend when we celebrate our freedom and remind ourselves of how great it is to not be a zombie perhaps I should also thank God for the rules that are in place that make my freedom in Him and in life possible. I am so grateful for the boundaries. Now pass me the popcorn, dude, the movies about to start.

Mike

Nothing to Prove and Nothing to Hide

I went to South Carolina this weekend, to a reunion of a youth choir I was a part of 40 years ago. I have never been very good at reunions. There is usually too much trying to impress, trying to look good, trying to put on a show. And that’s all from me. But this was different. It was great to see old friends, some I hadn’t seen for more than 3 decades. Kids I hung out with, leaders I looked up to, and men and women that spoke God into my life in a way that I will never forget.
They asked me to sing a song that I sang way back then. When it was over, TW, one of those great men said, “I remember when you sang that song 40 years ago. It was better then.” He was right but it was really fun anyway. We sang. We laughed. We told old stories. And we remembered.
There is a saying in the 12 Steps meeting that I go to a lot. The way to real peace is to have nothing to prove and nothing to hide. Can I brag for just a minute? I think the reason this visit was so good was that I am finally learning to live that way. And it feels good.
To live life in the moment, not focusing on the past or the future but trusting God for the here and now is joyful and the source of peace. It takes away the insane need to be something I am not for people I don’t even know, or for those I do. Some days I do that well. Other days, not so much. But I keep trying. I think it’s what Paul had in mind when he says, “Forgetting those things which are behind…I press on.”
Now don’t get me wrong. There are deep regrets from my past. When I am with old friends I can’t help but think about those people that I hurt, that I let down in my many failures. But putting my trust in God keeps me from dwelling on those things or taking on the shame of the past. When I know that I am lost in His love and covered by His blood, well, that’s enough in any group.
So I am suggesting for you that you quit worrying so much about what others think and start reminding yourself of how He feels about you. He loves you “with an everlasting love.” “He will never leave you or forsake you.” “He delights in you and rejoices over you with singing.” Keep all of that in mind and go visit some old friends. Be yourself and let them love you.
As for me, I plan to keep on living one day at a time. I’m not going to spend my energy trying to impress other people. Except I need to lose a little weight, maybe get my hair colored just a little, I wonder if I could get a tuck under my chin. Be blessed. Mike

Floods and What Matters

This weekend in middle Tennessee we experienced unprecedented rain and the resulting history making floods. Most of us (who were dry) sat glued to the television as unforgettable pictures of raging rivers, lakes, and streams turned quiet, familiar neighborhoods into unrecognizable, muddy oceans. We watched spellbound as cars and small buildings floated down what was once an inter-state highway. We were gripped by scene after scene of elderly and very young people being hoisted from upstairs windows into flat bottom boats to be hauled, unceremoniously across a torrid of chocolate, brown water to stay in some high school gymnasium or church fellowship hall. Our hearts were broken as the number of those swept away to their death began to rise.
Eventually, the discussion, even on the television, turned to insurance. Were they covered? Did they have specific flood insurance? Would there be any recompense for what was lost? Even Doris and I began to discuss if we were covered by flood insurance. What would we do in the event of such a catastrophe?
To be honest, I don't know for sure what we would do. I don't think our house is in much danger of a flood but what about a tornado, or earthquake? Or what if a sinkhole opens up underneath our kitchen? How would we begin to replace our "junk?" Frankly, with all of the loopholes in insurance policies today and all of the potential disasters (car bombs in Times Square) I'm not sure we could ever be protected enough. Man, I'm worried.
But then I got to thinking, all of the stuff we are trying to protect is doomed anyway. It is, every last bit of it, fleeting at best. Cars will die and rust away. Pictures will fade and be forgotten. Even gold and silver will lose its value. Much as I hate to think about it, my precious wife and kids are going to die one day, or I will first. The only thing that we have that is really "protectable" is our absolute confidence in Christ and His ability to give us hope and peace. No wonder Paul says, "We fix our eyes, not on what is seen but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary but what is unseen is eternal." II Cor. 4:18. Now I'm not diminishing the devastating loss of our neighbors and friends this week. They are crushed and rightly so. But when the waters recede and our pain abates, and it will, it might be good to reflect on the fact that nothing of lasting value was taken away from us. Even the loved ones we lost have the potential of being reunited with us in eternity.
So it seems there is a way of ordering our thinking that causes us to remember what needs to be remembered. This world is just a pass through place and we are citizens of another Kingdom. We need to keep our focus on that place. Hey, when we do that there are no floods high enough to get to us. Now, where are my waders?
Mike

Of Running, Raining, and Doing Your Best

Jennifer (my daughter-in-law and one of my best friends) and I decided to run the Country Music Marathon while sitting around the supper table last October. I’m 56 and haven’t run anywhere except to the bathroom in 10 years. Jennifer is 30, beautiful and fit, but long distance running is a whole new game. SO, we started training. The first day we ran together we did 3 miles. I thought I was going to die. She talked and laughed the whole way and I concentrated very hard on sucking as much oxygen out of the air as possible and not throwing up.

In early December we ran our first race, the 5 mile Frosty Fun Run. It was 19 degrees when we started and warmed up to a balmy 22 by the time we finished. Doris, Josh, and Jon-Mical came out to cheer us on and Jennifer coached, and begged, and intimidated me all around the course. We finished, thanks to her, and I still wear my blue Frosty Fun Run tee-shirt with great pride.

For the next 4 months we worked really hard. We ran together 2 or 3 times a week. “Short” runs of 4, 5, and 6 miles in the middle of the week and long runs on Saturday. The day we did 14 I thought my legs would fall off. I did 18 alone because Jennifer was battling a knee injury. I finished it but when it was over I told Doris, “I cannot run one step farther than that.” We just kept at it.
About 3 weeks ago we ran 20. It was a turning point day. We ran it pretty fast (for us) and fairly easy. When we were through we both felt good and were brimming with confidence. “We can do this.” We prepared, paid the price, and believed. WE ARE READY!

Thursday afternoon we went to the Nashville Convention Center to pick up our racing numbers and our pre-race packets. INCREDIBLE! 36,000 runners from all over the world were coming together for this race. We saw body sizes of every possible ilk. There were rail thin Kenyan’s with 2% body fat and there were, well others. I couldn’t help but do a mental inventory. “I can beat that guy. I can beat that guy. She is going to kill me.” Jennifer and I were so excited, the big day was almost here. Try to rest Thursday night because we knew on Friday night we’d be too nervous to sleep.
Friday was an absolutely gorgeous day in Middle Tennessee. Cool in the morning. Bright sun, High about 80. I ran a few errands. Did a little yard work. Got my stuff together. Got a pre-race haircut. Then about 1:30 I checked my email and the worst possible news came. Severe thunderstorms and possible tornadoes were predicted for late Saturday morning. The race organizers had decided to cut the race to 4 hours and 30 minutes. (They ended up cutting it to 4 hours). If you did not make it to the place where the half marathoners split off (11.2 miles) in under 2 hours you would be diverted to the half and not be allowed to run the full.

Now two things, Jennifer and I have been training for 5 months to run 12 minute miles and finish the 26.2 mile marathon in a very respectable 5:20. We had secretly hoped to break 5 hours but we never considered the fact that we would have to run our first ever marathon in 4:30, nearly an hour faster than we’d trained for. The other thing is that our “bucket list” goal is to run a marathon, not a half, a marathon. And now the National Weather Service is trying to do us in. All of our training, planning, and mental preparation had to go out the window.

On Saturday morning I picked Jennifer up at 4:30AM. We drove the 45 minutes to LP Field, the home of the Tennessee Titans, and joined our 36,000 fellow crazies. There were two huge lines, one to get on the shuttles that would take us to Centennial Park where the race began, and the other to get in one of the 40 or so port-a-johns. One quick lesson we learned, by 5:30, pre-race port-a-potties are NASSSSTY!
15 minute bus ride to Centennial, 10 minute walk across the park to drop off our gear pack, and its time to get in place. We are in corral 14. That means there are 13,000 people ahead of us before we start and about 13,000 people behind us. The vast majority have on yellow race bibs signifying that they are running the 13.1 mile half marathon. Our bibs are blue. One by one the air horn blows and each corral is sent off. Because of the impending storms we are all going off a little early. For us, corral 14 about 5 minutes after 7 there is a blast, a roar, and the marathon is underway.

I’m not going to bore you with the blow by blow but many have asked so here are the highlights. Jennifer and I felt like we needed to really speed through the first half in order to have a chance to finish. We spent the first hour passing a lot of people as we ran down Broad Street in Nashville. We crossed the 11.2 mile mark in just under 2 hours. That’s about 20 minutes faster than we thought we’d have to run, but they let us through and did not divert us to the half marathon route. We crossed the half way point, 13.1 miles in 2:24:44. Way below our projected time and fully on track to break 5 hours, but too slow if we were going to finish in 4:30. We just kept pushing. The Country Music Marathon is known for its hills. We became well acquainted with them. From the start to mile 14 was beautiful. At mile 14 the weather began to cloud up and by mile 15 it was raining. Mile 15 to 19 is pretty much all uphill. It’s a long run up out of the Metro Center. All of that was into a howling wind and driving rain. By mile 16 I had to take my glasses off because of the rain which was a good thing. I couldn’t see the lightning flashes as well. From mile 17 on there were police at every intersection telling us through bullhorns to seek cover because of the storm coming.

We hoped that by making it through the half split we would be able to finish. But at mile 20 we could see the police lights flashing ahead of us. We were being diverted. Instead of making the final loop into Shelby Park and back we were forced to turn towards the river and LP Field. When it was over we had run 21.5 miles in 4:01:20. We were on track to finish in about 4:50, 30 minutes below our goal and well inside 5 hours. But mother-nature and the Metro police department said no.

We crossed the finish line to the cheers of thousands of soaking wet spectators, race officials and other runners. We stood for a minute and cheered the thousands of runners that were still coming in and then went to find our family.
It has been an incredible adventure. I have fallen in love with my daughter-in-law all over again. We worked really hard and did our best. We have the certificate and the medal that says we finished the Country Music Marathon but we are a little disappointed in the fact that it was abbreviated. Last night I sat on the couch, my knees packed in ice, and searched the internet for a marathon in May or June. Who knows, I might see you in South Bend, Indiana, in a few weeks. Thanks for praying for us, listening to us, and asking about us. I marked the marathon off my bucket list but put a star beside it. There’s always next year and my nephew is interested in running…

The Fine Art of Falling

I am thinking about writing a book. Failure And How I Achieved It: AGAIN. I just have a talent for not getting it right. It amazes me how many times I can fall down, even on the lessons I’ve spent a lifetime learning. I have 3 weeks of great devotions, then for a week, nothing. Doris and I have 20 wonderful days together then I will get crabby, cranky, and contrary. I do so good at staying truthful then out of the blue I will exaggerate to the point of lying. (Like I just did when I said I have 3 weeks of great devotions before I miss.)
A couple of days ago we took Jon-Mical to the local tennis courts and let him run and chase tennis balls over this huge expanse of green concrete. He’d run great. (We’ll as great as a 2 foot tall, 21 month old kid can run.) Then all of a sudden he would just fall. No hole to step in. No object to trip over. For no reason he would just sprawl out on the pavement, little hands outstretched, face down. Just like my walk with God.
Then he’d do an amazing thing. He would hop back up and start running again. He never looked back. He didn’t stop to analyze the fine points of kinetic energy, optimum balance, and gravity. He just started running again. Full of life and joy, enjoying the next steps.
I guess there is a lesson to be learned there. (You knew there would be, didn’t you?) We are all going to fall. You might stay on your feet longer than I do. You might not make quite as spectacular a splash when you go down, but I promise you this, you will fall. Remember the verse of scripture, “Where two or three are gathered together, one of them will take a nose dive.” (Mike 4:15) It’s just the way we live in a fallen world, fallen.
The good news is we don’t have to stay down. We do not have to remain on the pavement. If there is one thing I have learned it is that falling is not final and failing is not fatal. Listen, fallen brother or sister, God loves you as much when you are nose down on the sidewalk as he does when you are flying down the track. He does not give up on you. Let me say that again, He does not give up on you so don’t you give up on yourself. Here is a real verse, I John 2:1 says, “My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin (fall). But if anyone does sin we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense—Jesus Christ the Righteous One.”
So, try not to fall. Keep fighting the good fight. Keep running the race. But when you fail (and you will), hop up. God is not finished with you. He has so much more growing for you to do. Hey, maybe you could write a book about it?

Thanks for your prayers,
Mike