My thoughts make a difference. When I concentrate on the beauty around me; plants, flowers, clouds or hues of blue in the sky, my heart fills with gratitude. The effort of lifting stocky legs is diminished, momentarily forgotten.
When I watch the clock or track my distance my thoughts get mired in how am I doing, how much longer, how ridiculous my sagging body must look plodding down the path. The other female runners on the canal, (walkers too) are lean, even if not tall or young, they are thin. Some give me a thumbs up in passing. Pity affirmation, I presume.
God’s voice whispers to me, “Stop comparing yourself to others. I am here with you. Will you run with me? Let’s do this together!”
How could I refuse?
Thank you, for my sturdy legs that carry me everywhere. Thank you for healthy lungs, and eyes, and ears, and appetite and hands, and fingers and toes, and stretch marks, and flabbiness, and gray hairs. Thank you for my whole body just as it is today. Thank you for life!
Did Mary run, I wonder, when she went in haste to see her cousin Elizabeth? The forgiving Father most definitely ran to his prodigal son.
And he offers me the gift of running. So I will keep running with him as long as I can.