Exciting stuff

I apologize for not posting any blog entries for the last week. My son's baseball team has been competing in a series of tournaments across the fruited plain and last night, the team won the state title. As a result, we are traveling to Beaver, Utah on Sunday to compete in the southwest regionals next week. Obviously, my life has been consumed with my son's activities and it's been a blast.

I will keep you posted along the way!

Choking

I received a panicked call from my daughter yesterday. One of our fish had died and she was heartbroken. We don't have a small glass tabletop look-at-the-little-fishes-in-the-water fishbowl. We have a 3,000 gallon backyard pond that's home to more than 30 koi fish - some of which are 3 feet long. The pond was built by a Japanese pond master for the previous owner but had fallen into disrepair before we bought the house. When we moved in, we decided to perform pond surgery and restore it to it's former glory. Over the past 5 years, we've added a few fish every year but we had a few favorites. The kids took pleasure in naming most of them. Perhaps it's good that the dead fish was never given a proper name. He was just "white and orange fish". Now, he's the dead white and orange fish.

Although I've never asked them directly, our fish seem to be happy. Every once and a while, they will jump a few inches out of the water and, to the untrained eye, it seems as though they're playing. Maybe they're fighting because they hate one another but I like to believe that they're just as happy as...fish. Unfortunately, "white and orange" became a little too aggressive in his jumping and landed in the garden, unable to flip back into the water. I guess it's possible that the fish committed suicide because he just couldn't take the stress of being a fish but my guess is that his flip-out was accidental and the ensuing suffocation ended his brief life on earth .

Talk to any asthma sufferer and they will tell you that suffocation stinks. The inability to inhale and exhale causes an enormous amount of physical and mental stress on the body. Have you ever felt like you can't breathe when it comes to your spiritual condition? This isn't a lose-your-breath, gasping-for-air, physical suffocation – though spiritual suffocation certainly evokes physical symptoms. I’m talking about feelings that are so powerful, you physically feel like you’re suffocating in your chest and throat.

David seems to describe it in Psalm 32:

“When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer.”

Suffocation is one thing but suffocating all alone has to be so much worse. In his wilderness experiences, David was alone in his groaning to God. But, David realized that God was all he needed when God was all he had. He had to train himself in the practice of standing firm like Paul describes in Ephesians 6.

I've had a couple of spiritually suffocating weeks so, today, I'm relying on His promise to walk with me along the journey.

Breathe.

Training

I'm training for my second marathon which happens in November. As you might expect, there's a lot of running that will happen between now and then. I follow a schedule that tells me how many miles I need to run every day. Right now, I'm running about 25 miles a week but 2 weeks from now, I will be running about 30. Towards the end of my training, I will put in 45-48 miles every week with 20 mile runs once a week. The idea behind marathon training is that you are teaching your body to endure the rigors of distance running so that when the marathon happens, you're ready.

Those long run days are tough. I usually hit the road after work and run anywhere from 2 - 3 hours. Every 4 miles or so, I will walk for 30 seconds to allow my muscles a chance to recover and regenerate. Marathon experts are conflicted on this practice. Some say that you should never stop because starting again gets more and more difficult. I know what they mean, especially as it gets hotter outside and I struggle to get going again. In last year's marathon, I hit a wall at mile 20. In my mind, I couldn't go another step.

My spiritual journey is very similar. At times, I need to stop but the more times I stop, the harder it is to get going again. Jesus taught that the Holy Spirit was given to us to help us get going again. In the Greek, the authors used the word, "paraclete" which is defined as a helper who comes to help us to finish the race.

The Holy Spirit lives in us, empowering us to keep on moving forward through the course of life especially when it seems that we can't take another step. Paul said, "You take over. I'm about to die, my life an offering on God's altar. This is the only race worth running. I've run hard right to the finish, believed all the way. All that's left now is the shouting—God's applause! Depend on it, he's an honest judge. He'll do right not only by me, but by everyone eager for his coming." (2 Timothy 4:6-8).

We have someone who runs the race with us. Another way to look at it is that He runs the race through us.

Train effectively.

Set your sights on the finish line.

Depend on Him along the way.

Bizarre

Yesterday was a defining moment in the short history of our church.

Just before my message, a man jumped on stage, stole a microphone, and began hurling obscenities at someone (including the REALLY bad word). His anger was sourced in the belief that the accused was doing something improper with his wife. The accuser was escorted off the stage, kept yelling the really bad word and, for added emphasis, broke a door on his way out. It wasn't the only incident. We also had two fights in the lobby and someone suffered an epileptic seizure during the service.

Ironically, my message surrounded Isaiah 41:10

Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.

Isn't that crazy? I would like to say that I was calm and collected all day while I immersed myself in God's promise of protection. Hardly. I was scared about what happened and what could have happened. What if he had a gun? What if we had new people in the crowd who came expecting a "normal" church service? What if the accused decided to violently settle the issue on stage?

Given the nature of our church, I'm surprised more craziness hasn't happened over the last 4 years. We are a hospital for sick people and, fortunately or unfortunately, sick people create an dangerous environment. Hospitals are in the healing business but the healing process is painful. Talk to a burn patient about his skin grafting. Talk to a cancer patient about her chemotherapy treatments. It hurts and it takes time.

Although I'm still riding a roller coaster of emotions, I'm glad (kind of) that the sickness was revealed in church. I'm not sure what God was thinking but I think He's interested to see how we react. Will we dismiss the outburst as an isolated incident and pray that it never happens again? Or, will we rejoice in the knowledge that a sick person landed in the hospital on his own accord, showed everyone just how sick he was, and - just maybe - gave God the opportunity to start the healing process?

God tells us to "fear not" but I'm still pretty scared.