Archives for April 2011

A Psalm of Rejoicing on Sunday

‘But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; may those who love your salvation always say, “Let God be exalted”.’ Psalm 70:4

Rejoicing today in Christ’s great love and salvation. May He be exalted. 

A Psalm of Salvation on Good Friday

‘I love you, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. I call to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and I am saved…’ Psalm 18:1-2

Post game wrap up

We’ve just returned home from London, where my poor husband had to wrangle three kids through the masses of spectators for a glimpse of their old mom running/jogging/moving at a snail’s pace on the marathon course. Marathon 2011 is officially over, I’m officially exhausted, and running is officially dead to me. At least for the next two weeks.

I returned home with a wicked cold, three fewer toenails, a mountain of laundry, and a medal. The medal was great, but better still were the hand scrawled signs and proud baby faced smiles at the end. The joy of listening to them recount this runner and that costume, how many high fives they gave, and what it took to push to the front took the edge off the after-ache.

The pulse and throb of tired legs kept me awake that night, everything screamed ‘Weary’. But beneath the weary was a steady beat that said ‘Alive’. This is what it is to be Alive…to possibility, to pain, to potential.

It’s why I run. It’s why I’ll probably be back pounding the pavement by May, and maybe even considering another race in the distant (very distant) future. It’s why I tell you all about it too. To say that something might yell ‘weary’ at you, but if you listen hard enough it may speak of something better.


365 Down

It’s been exactly one year since we joined the expat ranks in Zurich. The longing for home hasn’t decreased with time, but learning to call another place home has become easier. And let’s be honest, it’s not like I’m living on the plains of Africa. I think I might give myself a little too much credit for making such an “easy” transition. It’s hardly difficult to enjoy living in a place that is safe, clean, and populated by multi-lingual people who enjoy eating large quantities of cheese and chocolate. 

I’m totally on board with the cheese and chocolate thing. Unfortunately, my abilities in the multi-lingual department are limited to about five words. I have, however, perfected the blank stare which I have found to be useful in most social situations.
This move has tugged away at the roots of familiarity. It has forced me to choose between being yanked out like a weed or submitting to the discomfort of reaching higher. I like to think that’s what I’m doing here. Reaching higher.