Beauty For Ashes...

"...beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor." Isaiah 61:3

Sunday, October 25, 2009

'Tis so sweet...





My alarm went off at 4:45am. As I rolled over I could already feel my heart begin to pound. I staggered into the bathroom where my gear was neatly placed on the countertop the night before. As I looked down I saw a tender note from my sweet husband. I smiled. As I began to put on my R4R "armor" I looked in the mirror and began to recite that all too familiar verse:

"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes [like human trafficking]. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Eph 6:10-12)

As we arrived and parked, Rich said a quick prayer and we all got out of the car ready to run for an in incredible revolution. I soon found myself standing there, elbow to elbow, in a mass of people i didn't know. The race was about the begin, but my heart had started long before my body. Next thing I knew i was jumping up and down. Finally- the sound of a gun! We were off. My first REAL half marathon- and what cooler place that Nairobi?! I tried hard to pace myself but the excitement was keeping me from succeeding. Just as I found my pace I passed a woman in a wheelchair who had started a good 30minutes before myself. She was pushing herself as hard as she could on uneven pavement. I looked down at her... elbows bleeding and she was only 2 miles into it. I felt my throat begin to tighten quickly. Tears began to form. I saw the determination in her face and knew she wanted no help or pity. I fought tears and begin singing to my ipod knowing I couldn't let myself cry because I wouldn't be able to breathe. Another 4 miles passed. Then I heard a familiar voice in both ears speaking, not singing. As soon as I heard this voice I knew I recognized it. But where? I didn't remember putting this on my "NBO marathon" playlist. After the first sentence, I KNEW that sweet voice. It was my very best friend and my favorite voice. My heart did a flip as my number one fan read scripture to me. And what better time than mile 6? Once again, I felt my throat begin to close. I told myself to: "Calm down and cry later. If you cry you can't breathe; if you can't breathe, you can't run. If you can't run, you can't fight..." So I kept on.

As the road doubled back I would see one of my team mates on the other side of the road. I LOVED seeing that beautiful shirt that made us part of team that is fighting for something so great and so beyond us. It really was an encouragement... even though he was 20 minutes in front of me.

Every 2-3 miles they had water stations. I guess because of the lack of clean water here they had 200ml bottles of water rather than paper Gatorade cups with 2 sips of water. I skipped the first several stations telling myself "you've never trained with water, why do you need it? Chris is at the end of this race- he'll have water." (Being thirsty usually prompts me to pray for the people of Sudan and my best friends team that just went in to build wells this past summer. It's a good reminder when I'm thirsty to pray for those people to find the living water.)

Finally I succumbed to the temptation of wetting my mouth, but quickly wished I hadn't. The ground was soaking wet from wasted water of several thousand people. Runners could only take a few sips then toss them on the ground. I was about to freak out: "People! This country is in a water crisis right now!" And there was no way I could finish my water or I would have made myself sick. I reluctantly sat my bottle on the ground (yes, upright just incase someone wanted to have some water behind me). The next time I was REALLY wanting water was about 3 miles from the finish and I had made a vow to either drink someone elses or not drink at all. It was the last water station before the finish. I ran by it starring at that luscious, clear, cool, goodness dripping from the hands of the providers. A man just to my left took a few sips as I watched, mouth watering. Then he just held onto it. After about a minute of thinking he had to be finished with it I said "May I please have your last sip, I didn't want to waste the water." I wondered if he spoke english. He said "What?" So I tried again in Kiswahili "Ninataka kidogo Maji Tafadali." He smiled and handed it right over to me. I had prayed I would meet at least one person I could tell about R4R and my passions. So 3 miles out, prayers answered. I met Steve, my water benefactor. We soon discovered we were both rookies. Our first half marathon. He was running in a pair of very flat Puma's with dress socks, me in my comfy, borrowed awesome Nike's and padded socks. I'd been training a few months; Steve trained 2 whole weeks. That's a Kenyan for you. We were about 3/4 mile from the finish line inside Nayo stadium and it began to rain pour. Steve said "Me, I am going to stop now." I grabbed his arm, pulled him forward not allowing him to stop and yelled "NO! YOU CAN'T STOP NOW! YOU'RE AT THE END!" As if he was running for the same reasons as I was. It might have been borderline rude, but I mean- it was the end! We'd come this far without stopping. He looked at me with furrowed brow and said "You are hard!" We continued on together. Several others were stopping as if they'd seen the words "Finish Line". As we entered the stadium the feeling of that nice soft track against my aching feet and sore knees was like heaven to me. I looked at Steve and said "Enjoy this moment." As we took our last 1/4 mile around the track I searched the stands for all my Mzungu's- they weren't hard to find. As I came around the curve they were the white ones, yelling and cheering as if I'd won the 1.5 million shillings. I again looked at Steve and said "Let's finish this hard." So we both sprinted through the finish and high five one another. What a beautiful feeling I will never ever forget. I'd won more than 1.5 M shillings. I had helped fight against slavery and free children...

I knew I couldn't do it in my strength. I would have never made it out of the car. I truly felt the Lord was honored through this marathon and I have no intentions of stopping now. I am part of a revolution.
What a joy it was to run for such a time as this...










2 comments:

  1. Oh WOW! What a story! I was in full tears by the end of that post. Thanks for sharing.
    You are doing such an amazing thing.

    Love you!
    Nicole

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  2. Lindy, I am so very proud of you!!! I love the pic of the finish, with your arms in the air. I can't wait to see you, I love you, friend. Em

    ReplyDelete