New Life

The moment came with clarity and power, even if it was a creation of my imagination. I let it come and speak to me knowing that such visions are often my soul, or God, trying to tell me something.

I was standing front of the individual who was about to enter Fellowship Hall, an alcohol rehab facility near where I live. The person was bleary-eyed, nervous, and a little embarrassed. I completely understood because I have been there before.  There were only three steps up to the front door, but the climb ahead was overwhelming. I smiled and handed him the medal I was given for completing the half marathon which raised the money to pay for the individual’s time there.

I wanted to tell the person it was going to be alright. There’s new life on the other side, I wanted to promise, but there’s a lot of hard work to get there. The new life that is yours for the taking is a gift. You can either receive it or refuse it, but if you accept it, the new life will change everything. Some of that change will be surprising, maybe even unwanted. No wonder so few climb the steps to the door.

The vision got blurry at this point. I suppose I touched his or her shoulder and said I’d be with him/her throughout. It wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I saw the moment was for me. It was the moment given to me, and countless others, throughout the ages regardless of whether we have needed rehab or not.

The one who created us stands before us and offers us new life. The journey is overwhelming, but the look in God’s eyes is one of understanding, like he knows what we’re about to go through, like he intends to be with us throughout it. If we accept the gift, the life we find may not be the one we imagined but be the life for which we’ve always dreamed.

Despite what the world and many self-help books tell us, it’s not a life of our creating. It is a gift, a life beyond our vision, beyond our efforts, although it will take all that we have to find it. The work is endless and will require complete surrender and the willingness to stumble or fall along the way. We will lose and find friends along the way, just as we will come to know the one who stands before us offering the gift.

God stands before us, just as God walks beside us on the other side of the door. On the other side is a stranger, it has been said, and the stranger is us . . . our authentic selves, the people we were created to be – completely loved, fully redeemed, and sustained for the rest of our journey.

Two Souls

I ran for one soul.

I’m not sure where the idea came from, but sometime during my training for the Kiawah half marathon I thought it would change the nature of the effort if my running could mean more than a painful challenge for my old body. I decided to run to raise money so someone who otherwise could not afford a 28-day rehab program could do so for free.  It cost more than I expected, and I didn’t know if my family and friends would support the effort. They did . . . in a big way.

So, I awakened early and made my way to the starting line with a walk on the beach by myself. I thought about the person whose life was about to change. Who would it be? How desperate will he or she be when they call to see if there’s any way to receive treatment. Do they have a spouse? Children? Is the law involved? Have they lost their job?

The sun rose over my shoulder, and I thought about their new day, the dawn they’re about to be given. It made me think of when I first walked in the doors of my rehab center. It’s a moment I’d never like to experience again, but it’s also a moment I’ll never regret. In fact, it’s a moment for which I will forever be grateful.

As I approached the starting line, I heard the announcer encourage the crowd. It made me realize I wasn’t running alone. Beside me would be someone I’ll never meet. I’m running for a soul – his or hers. But I’m also running for another soul - mine.

Lessons for the Race

“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” Hebrews 12:1b

It seemed like a good idea at the time. My step-daughter and her husband suggested we run the Kiawah Island half marathon, and I said yes without thinking. Although I’ve run marathons before, full and half, it had been a while, and I wasn’t sure my 64-year-old body was up to the challenge. That was several months ago, and now the race is less than a week away. Through it all, I learned some important truths about more than running that I will carry with me long after this half marathon is over.

The first is, I need to put in the work. With December 9th months away, it was tempting to put off training. Instead, I started with small distances and let my legs remember what it was like to run. Slowly, the distances increased, but I was as intentional about resting my body as pushing it. What mattered was that I showed up when I wanted to and when I didn’t, when it was sunny and warm and rainy and cold.

After the initial efforts, the distances made me pay attention, and I seriously thought about quitting. “If this is hard, how can you do the whole race?” I asked myself. Now that I’ve reached the age when people add, “at your age,” to every complement, I knew I was pushing things by trying to run 13.1 miles. Rather than quit, though, I lowered my eyes from the overall distance and focused on putting one foot in front of another. If I can just do that for a few hours, I kept telling myself, eventually I’ll reach the finish line.

At some point during one of my longer training runs, I got an idea that has made all the difference. I thought about running for a purpose. It was an ambitious goal to run such a distance at my age, but to do so for a reason transformed my perspective. I thought about my 19th anniversary of getting sober, which is next month, and I thought about the many people who were not as fortunate as I to have insurance to pay for rehab. I wondered if I could run to raise enough money to fund one person’s 28-day rehab experience. It was a big number, but I thought raising any money would be appreciated. As of writing this, my generous friends have joined me and almost donated the complete amount.

Through this experience, I’ve learned three important truths about running races, particularly the important one called “life”: put in the work, take it one step at a time, and do it for a meaningful purpose. Looking back and forward, I can see how important these three truths could have been for what I’ve tried and can still be for what lies ahead.

I wanted to pass them along in case they can help you in your “races,” too.

If you would like to join in the effort to change someone’s life, please send a gift to: Fellowship Hall, 5140 Dunstan Rd, Greensboro, NC 27405, marked “Bristol Challenge.”