Lilley of the field

That night I hardly slept. I tossed and turned and dozed and dreamt. Most of my dreams consisted of being late or forgetting something. I had the same kind of jitters I have before the very first day of school every year. Only this time- it was before my very first triathlon. I had prepared as much as possible. I printed the course maps and drove them in advance. I bought some needed tri gear. I watched youtube videos galore about transitions and swimming techniques. I made this fancy training plan with pretty fonts and didn't stick to it a single day. But six out of seven days of the week this summer, you would find me running, biking, or swimming- simply not on the day it was scheduled though. There's something humorous about this that would make you tilt your head in a "huh... really?" kind of way if you've known me for over ten years. After posting the I-crossed-the-finish-line pictures on social media, one of my dear high school friends captured it w...

Do you ever want to really explain something so significant in your life, but you come up short with words? Are there really words to describe the greatest joys and deepest sorrows of life? In Brennan Manning's book,  The Ragamuffin Gospel  (which I can't recommend enough), he writes that trying to comprehend God's love is like trying to contain Niagara Falls in a tea cup. I feel overwhelmed by the sheer love and mercy of the Lord looking at these pictures my good friend Mary Ashley took of my feet. My little tea cup has shattered because His grace just can't be contained. So in feeble words- I will at least tell my story in hopes that you will hear His story of love and mercy which is intended to be the theme of all our stories.   - - - -  Five years ago, during my first year teaching, I started coming home from school with terrible pain in my feet. I developed plantar fasciitis. Your plantar fascia is a band of connective tissue that runs along the sol...

So I wrote this two weeks ago, but it didn't publish on my other computer and I thought it had. I wanted to post it though because it is an interesting follow up to my excited post about swimming.... Real life man. ------- Sometimes it feels like for every step forward you take, you take two steps back. I had high dreams and hopes last week. My feet were feeling better and I could picture myself swimming- confident and maybe not great- but decent?! I spent way to much time watching pros swim on youtube who make it look easy. So Tuesday rolls around and my friend Dana comes to the pool with me to teach me how better techniques and I am surprised. Surprised at how hard it is. It does not come naturally at all to me. The breathing part. Then I psych myself all out in my mind because other people are around and I have to stop at the end of every lap and catch my breath. She taught me how to do the flip turn, but I can't even do two laps back to back right now... so flip tur...

This is the place where I am trying to heal. This is the place where I have gone each morning the for the past year. Where I have risen many mornings before the sun comes up to stretch and exercise. Because I need to get stronger. I've had plantar fasciitis for 3 1/2 years and I keep waiting to write a post about it once I am healed. I'm not yet. But I am close. Since I painted this chalk board on the wall, the only thing that has adorned it is a verse written in my prettiest handwriting. It's been all fancy and pinterest looking for over a year. I haven't wanted to erase it because it took so much time to construct it. Each detail and design. It looked good. After a walk this morning I felt it was time to take it down and to etch into that chalkboard the verses that I have been declaring over my life and over my feet. My feet are an outward symptom deeply connected to where I am spiritually. I have known that for a while. Although the pain is in my feet...

A dear friend commented on my last blog post and noticed how the last post before I broke finger included this line: "What if is brokenness is an opportunity to experience healing?" Wow. Moral of the story? Be careful what you write. But of course there are way bigger morals to the story- such as God loves to heal. He will take care of my every need. He will never leave of forsake me. It is bright, sunny and warm outside. Spring is announcing itself with unfurling leaves, swaying branches, and chirping bird making sweet morning melodies. Six weeks ago there was an ice storm and a new dog. To this day, six weeks ago, on the first day of Lent, I broke my finger chasing that new dog through the snow. Now all that remains is a tiny, red knob where the bone grew back, some very minimal swelling, and stiff muscles. I have learned so many things throughout the last six weeks and probably will have to keep relearning so many of them, but the beauty and difficulty of healing has o...