Today

This morning was glorious. I left the house at 5:50am for my run. The sun was itching to peek over the horizon, but was still tucked a few minutes away. The cool morning breeze was so welcomed. I even had some goose bumps pop as I stretched. It’s been many months since that happened. My neighborhood was still at rest, or at least in hiding. And so I ran and ran and loved it. It was the best I’ve felt in a while. Such a contrast to Tuesday morning when I started a little too late (7:30), felt suffocated by the motionless air and layer of humidity, was bogged down by the overindulgence of food I ate over the weekend at the cabin, and was wishing the sun away with all my might. That day, Tuesday, I was having all kinds of self doubts.

Why am I running again?

Am I insane thinking that I can run a half-marathon?

Is it worth it?

But today…today was entirely different.
Today I conquered the road.
Today my legs and lungs were in synch and carried me well.
Today I reminded myself that I can do hard things.

Every day won’t be like today, but that’s OK. That’s part of life.

I found a quote I love by Teddy R:

“Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure...than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.” - Theodore Roosevelt

Stand by Me

Last Wednesday night, Ryan was gone at scouts and then to the office to catch up on some work. I was especially tired. We had two funerals, work, killer summer heat, and lots of late nights in the first half of the week. The kids were being particularly difficult. I think boredom had set in and too much time spent together over the summer months had finally taken its toll. I could try and sugar coat it, but bottom line – the kids were all just being plain mean and ornery. I don’t know how else to say it. I was ready to retire my whistle and referee shirt and lock myself in my room. But then I decided that maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t cave. Maybe there was some teaching moment waiting to happen. Perhaps I should act on that prompting.

So I cooled my nerves, gathered all four of my peeps and instructed everyone to grab their scriptures. I did a quick search in the Bible Dictionary and Topical Guide for “peace” and “contention.” The older kids were assigned a scripture to look up, and I tabbed a couple myself. After each child had looked up their assigned verses, we each took turns reading them. I interrupted many times, asking things like:

“Now, what does that mean?”
“Why would that scripture be in here?”
“Do you think that applies to us?”
“Do you believe these things are true?”
"What happens if we don't obey?"
"Is that what you want to happen?"

We had a good discussion. I then felt inspired to bear my testimony to them about the Plan of Salvation and how our family is going to be together eternally. Forever and ever. I reminded them that we’re not sealed to our neighbors, to our friends, or to our “stuff.” All we’ll have is each other. I pled with them to be kinder to each other, to stick up for each other at school, to stand by each other always, and to never talk bad about each other. Build each other up, don’t tear each other down.

I was crying and so were they.
I think they got it.
The spirit was so strong in our little upstairs loft.
I was grateful that I didn’t take the easy escape route and just send them all to bed angry. I would have felt so bad and would have missed a good teaching moment.

We finished with family prayer and a bowl of ice cream, and all was well with the world in the walls of the Brown home that night. Too bad I’ll have to have that talk with them a hundred more times over the years and they won’t realize until they are older that their siblings really will be some of their best friends in life.