Huge step.

 

Do you see it there, stamped in the sloppy muddy mess?

That’s right baby, footprints; her paws, my trail shoes.

I don’t know who was more excited but I was pretty stinkin’ pumped!

It’s been many weeks of short, slow walks and we’ve both been frustrated.

However today I tied up my trail shoes and went on a 5 minute (yes minute, not mile…grrr) run down my dirt road.

Piper was interested in speed work; I was simply focused on slow and stable foot placement.

Truthfully I’m dying to resume my regular 10+ mile runs….but for now this felt amazing!

Stress fractures, get thee behind me…..

 

Backpack treasures.

(written after the Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings in Newtown, Conn…just days before Christmas)

It’s the simple gifts from children that change us.

A tender expression. Love so pure. Uncomplicated and free.

Little pieces of themselves to take with us. A gift. An offering.

 

I love the hidden treasures found in my children’s backpacks.

Especially this one I discovered over the weekend in a rare quiet moment alone.

As the news from the TV played in the background,

I sat on the piano bench holding Andre’s backpack in one hand, this ornament in the other.

I traced my finger around the edges where his scissors had {im}perfectly carved out a heart.

I noticed each little detail of his work and wondered about that moment…

how his hand held the pencil as he wrote each letter, I love my family so much;

how he walked over to his teachers desk and stapled a loop so it could hang on our tree.

I imagined how he tucked it away in his backpack, anxious to bring it home.

A perfect backpack treasure.

 

Oh Father, please let there be treasures

just waiting to be discovered~

in those 20 little backpacks

still hanging on the classroom walls.

Tender expressions. Love so pure.

Simple handmade hearts that might bring a blanket of warmth in the midst of the cold dark nights.

In your timing, God speed…may those parents find one more gift.

Please Father, let it be…

 

As I prayed, the Mother-tears began their battle.

Tears that ache for my own four babies and tears that ache for theirs;  

the babies who sat in little chairs in a classroom on Friday morning.

 

I hung Andre’s paper ornament on our tree and knew this was getting too thick for me, I needed out.

So I walked out the door and headed up our mountain to my hiding place… my thin place.

 

The heavier the burden and mental noise, the longer the journey up the mountain.

So I had to keep pressing deep into the woods; searching for quiet and still,

and simple.

“Thin” didn’t come easy this time.

 

As I climbed the rocky trails and the reality began to sink in, my ugly {cry} won.

…a classroom full of Spiderman lunchboxes and Hello Kitty jackets

…name tags on wrapped Christmas gifts waiting under their trees

…the giggles of innocent children counting down the days

…the mounds of fresh dirt

Oh God, not this month. Not this close. Not ever!

 

I know this world is a cruel reality for so many children and it always breaks my heart;

I’m also no stranger to death, I’ve worked in its trenches for many years.

But this kind of violence? How do we prepare our innocent children for that? 

~And so there I sat, perfectly still, just waiting~

 

I love my family so much; it played through my mind, over and over again.

His words, his creativity, his heart.

Made by my child’s own two hands.

Pure and simple. Tender. Uncomplicated.

At eight years old, it’s everything Andre has to offer.

And at thirty-seven, it’s everything I need.

 

….oh God, be near and give them strength in Newtown.

Thank you for the precious gift of children,

and thank you for their backpack treasures!

 

 

 

 

Who rescued who?

This might be one of my most favorite pictures of Piper ever! I recognize that for most of you it’s simply a picture of a sweet dog and some crazy cute pink shoes. #whateverygirlneeds. But when I walked into the kitchen that day (a few weeks ago), exhausted from a really hard run, this moment was more than a sweet photo op. There was a precious story there begging to be told.

I had run a few miles already that week. As in 40. I was tired and my legs were d.o.n.e. However, I had planned an easy 6.2 mi run with Piper (her longest ever), knowing she needed the exercise in order to stay out of trouble on the home front. And though this particular route did include a really steep hill, I felt that if taken slowly, we would do fine. This is why I got her after all… a long term running partner.So I gathered our stuff, harnessed ourselves to each other and hit the roads.

As it turns out, my legs were more d.o.n.e. than I thought.

From the very first mile Piper kept turning around, giving me this funny look as if to say, What’s up chick?

But I think she knew. I wasn’t alright.

I wasn’t running at a speed she was familiar with, I kept pulling her back, and my gait was off. We’ve run enough miles together, her and I, that we know what to expect and when something feels different. That day felt different for sure.

As we approached the never ending hill that felt similar to this:

…I began to worry; I’m not gunna make it up today, my legs have nothing left.

As we started up Piper looked back one more time, pausing for just a second; I like to think she was checking in on me,

We cool back there Momma? 

Because I KNOW she understands me, I told her the deal, “Girl, I need your help. Come on Piper, GO!”

As she turned around, now with her head pointing straight into the hill and her back to me, something changed. Her legs engaged, her torso strengthened, and her head lowered slightly. I have never seen Piper run like she did that day. It was incredible how she used her body and sheer determination to pull me up that hill, and led me for the remaining 4 miles home!

~And you know…she never again looked back at me. She didn’t need to I guess, we were running as one body with 6 legs.~

But I could tell by the way she climbed up the back deck and staggered into the house, she was spent!

Did I push her too hard? Was that too much for her just yet?

I got her some water and snuggled her for a moment. Good girl Piper, thank you! She licked the side of my face like it was no big deal and slowly laid down on the wood floor next to her water bowl. I was worried.

I quickly got a shower and hurried back in to check on her; that’s when I found her snuggling with my running shoes.

~That day something changed between Piper and I.~

I believe this once homeless and abandoned dog realized for the first time that she was actually needed! And though it was a sacrifice; when you’ve been rescued, you will rescue.

~We give what we’ve been given.~

As I stood there looking at her sweet face all snuggled up between my shoes, barely able to stay awake for the picture, I felt sure she whispered~

“Rescued” feels good, doesn’t it??

 

 

*Piper did sleep for many hours that day and eventually was back to her normal self~ “Pipering” as my Dad calls it!!*