Running Laughter

The Rain was as the Tears of God

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 20:33:42 PDT

This morning I was reluctant to go running. I was much too comfortable as I lay in bed; and yet the Lord mercifully aroused me. I ate some oatmeal (oats, walnuts, raisins, cranberries, brown sugar, cinnamon), made a coffee, and was out the door. I drove to Hyland Park, arriving shortly before 8am. My run was undefined. It was raining. How many times have I begun in this way? How many times have I simply pushed beyond the immediate resistance and made my way to the trail? This is so vital to my heart. I need to apprehend afresh how weak and vulnerable I am. I need to push beyond it until I understand that it is God who gives me the strength and will to run. It is God who fills me with the desire to live and love beyond my limits. It is God who opens His wonders to me along every trail and avenue that I have ever traveled. Here am I – ever so reluctant to be blessed by God Himself. Here am I running in the rain.

As we run our trails, we frequently must push beyond our natural limitations. It is only in the vast expanse of the unknown where we learn to listen and cling most dearly to our Lord. Today I ran a little over 8 miles in just over 2 hours, climbing 2352 feet and descending about the same. Often the trails are new to us, untried. Sometimes the trails are numbingly familiar. But we run them all the same. Since returning from Shenzhen, China I've covered about 80 miles running familiar routes – Purgatory, Hyland, Birch Island, and others. Usually, I'd select my distance to coincide with those times when I felt weakest, or a time of day that would be the hottest and most difficult. It is good for me to push myself beyond my natural boundaries; to discover anew that I am not alone. There is another with me on the trail. I am sustained by Him. We share the joys and sorrows of the way. In times of plenty, there is rejoicing. In times of want, there is quiet reliance and trust. It is the Lord along the trail who faithfully teaches me. I need Him with every step.

Of late, I have been listening to A Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, read by a dear English woman. Sometimes I can hear her turn the pages. I like that. In the past year or two, I've listened to this recording three times, and each time I am overwhelmed by the true nature of John Bunyan's allegory. I have read the book in times past, but there is something about listening as I run. It is always so striking to me, so applicable. My trails in many ways are like the travels of Christian and his wife and children.

For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. [Hebrews 11:10 ESV]

...Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. [Hebrews 12:2 ESV]

We are each sojourning. Are we seeking the Celestial City - the dwelling of the Lord, or something far less, something shallow and dead? Each time I listen, my soul is challenged to remain fixed upon my heart's passion, to remain true to my deepest desires to love God above all.

Today the rain was as the tears of God. Sometimes, I thought His tears to be tears of joy over the multitudes redeemed to Himself, to live forever with the Lord as their light, to behold Him and find their deepest joy and satisfaction in Him, to be forever with the Lord. At other times, I thought His tears to be tears of great sorrow over the multitudes lost, forever separated from His everlasting joy and happiness, forever apart from the Lord. And then I would weep. As I ran, as the rain streaked my face and clothing, I wept. Sometimes the joy overwhelmed me. At other times, the sorrow would almost crush me wholly. And through it all, there was my ever companion, Jesus the Righteous; my Sovereign, my Lord.

He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. [Ecclesiastes 3:11 ESV]

But from there you will seek the Lord your God and you will find him, if you search after him with all your heart and with all your soul. [Deuteronomy 4:29 ESV]

Let us run the trails that are before us. If we seek Him, we will find Him. Although the breadth of eternity is God's alone, He mercifully reveals Himself to us. He is the treasure of immeasurable worth, the pearl of great price. Oh Friend, may I weep tears of joy for you, and not tears of sorrow. Let us run hard and true.

Wutong Mountain and Friends

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 13:07:51 PDT

Wutong Mountain 梧桐山 is located near the border of Luohu and Yantian in Shenzhen, China. It is 943.7m (3,096 ft), and is the tallest mountain in Shenzhen. The mountain is the source of the Shenzhen River that flows into Shenzhen and Hong Kong. (Wikipedia)

After my experiences on Tuesday, I wrote a little poem about running Wutong Mountain through mist and rain as a gift to my students this week.

Rain on Wutong Mountain, Mist rising,
I run the green forest wet with joy.

It is Saturday. Earlier this week, on Tuesday, I had spent almost 4 hours traversing all over Wutong Mountain. During the week, I met someone who regularly runs Wutong. She had invited me to join her and a friend this morning. I was giddy with anticipation. We met at 5:30am in the lobby of my hotel and caught a taxi to Wutong Mountain. A short time later, we were standing at the archway marking the entry, and off we went. My companions led the way up the road, and then turned off to the right into the forest along a path I had not noticed earlier in the week. This direction led to many new twists and turns along new trails, and a spectacular view of a waterfall. Friends have a way of opening our eyes to new things.

We climbed the cut stone steps, old natural stone pathways, hopping numerous streams and roots, chasing our excitement for 3:44 hours, covering 7.95 miles, ascending 5777 and descending 5668 feet. Our faces were covered in smiles and laughter. Midway we stopped on a broad plaza (that I had crossed above earlier in the week). One of my companions woke a shopkeeper she knew and purchased orange juice for each of us as a reward for reaching this point. Each of us drank this with a very thankful heart. It was the perfect refreshment. As the hours and miles drifted past, we shared our mutual joys, struggles, and challenges as followers of Christ Jesus. We celebrated through our running and endurance, and we each shared that our joy seemed to grow deeper and richer – even in life's hard struggles. For me, it was wonderful to encounter two sisters in the Lord, to celebrate our shared faith, and to encourage each other along life's trail. At last, we completed our run, and my dear companions treated me to a fantastic noodles lunch in a favorite restaurant of theirs right in the village near Wutong. The noodles were made as I watched, and the meal was eaten as the shop owner watched. We loved the food. It was incredible! A shared run, a shared meal, and shared faith and love of God – this had truly been a memorable day.

"For a man's ways are before the eyes of the Lord, and he ponders (makes level) all his paths." [Proverbs 5:21]

Friend, perhaps we will share a meal of noodles in a small shop in a distant land. Perhaps we will share the challenge of dangerous trails just ahead. I'll be out there watching for you. My prayers will be covering your steps. So until we meet, run hard and run true.

Butterflies and Lightening on Wutong Mountain

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 21:10:08 PDT

The day began with subdued, but very real excitement. I was in Shenzhen, China and had identified a possible trail running route. After a good breakfast, I changed into my running clothes and jumped into a taxi. My research had identified a place called Wutong Mountain-Butterfly Trail. The taxi dropped me at the base of an archway leading into the Wutong Mountain area.

Blessed be the Lord, my rock,
who trains my hands for war,
and my fingers for battle;
he is my steadfast love and my fortress,
my stronghold and my deliverer,
my shield and he in whom I take refuge,
who subdues peoples under me.
O Lord, what is man that you regard him,
or the son of man that you think of him?
Man is like a breath;
his days are like a passing shadow.
Bow your heavens, O Lord, and come down!
Touch the mountains so that they smoke!
[Psalm 144:1-5 ESV]

According to my notes this was the correct location, but I saw no trail. There was only a paved road heading up the mountain. “Ok,” I thought, “Not what I expected, but let's get moving.” I hit the start button on my watch, ran through the archway, and on up the road. This mountain area was beautiful, and I understood why they call it a butterfly mountain. Butterflies were everywhere - many colors and sizes. How would I ever convey this to others?

In my devotions this morning, dear old Spurgeon had quoted Deuteronomy 5:24, “The Lord our God hath shewed us his glory.” I was beginning to see His radiance even as I began my ascent of Wutong Mountain along an uninspiring roadway. The overlooks were becoming increasingly breathtaking. At some point, a trail appeared on my left. I immediately followed it off into the green foliage. At this point, I found that my “trail” was paved, as well. It was paved in cut stone, flat along level and modest changes up or down. However, anything more severe than a 3-5 degree shift was finished as a cut stone stairway. There were a few exceptions to this, where a cascade of boulders provided a natural stairway, or a massive root structure provided an interesting means of climbing and ascending vertically to the trail section above. But for the most part – stone all along the trail portions. So, I followed the trail that I had found that had meandered off to my left. Eventually, this spilled back onto the paved road and I continued my climb. Although the road was just a road, the surrounding views were unbelievably beautiful.

When I had entered this area and began my run, it was sunny with a few puffy clouds and temperatures hovering in the upper 80sF with high humidity. It was warm, but I was looking for a heat workout, and this would do just fine. As I continued upward, a mist began rising. I was drenched in sweat but kept ascending. Eventually, I came to a place in the road with a small parking area and signs with maps of the park. Here I spotted another trail going off to my right and climbing significantly upward. I was more than ready. Off I went. A light rain began to fall as I left the road to run up a fairly steep ascent along a path of hundreds of stairs. The rain was increasing as I climbed. I took a few pictures, but eventually stowed my camera for fear that I would damage it with rain. Along my trail, I crossed above a plaza about two-thirds of the way up. Here I saw the final ascent to bring me near the summit, and many more stairs to climb, seemingly stairs without number. I just set my mind to climb, and maintained a steady rhythm. Who had laid all these stairs? It boggled my mind. The rain was increasing even more, and was coming down hard. As I neared the summit I could feel the roar of thunder and see lightening flash. I was growing a little concerned. I reached the end of the stairs and made my way onto a level area very near the summit. Here I found “The Heavenly Pond”. It was a small pond with a large boulder in the center and an inscription. I snapped a picture to document how far I'd come, and decided to descend quickly in the growing storm that was swirling around. Just at this moment, I encountered three Chinese young men who had come up behind me on the stairs. They were drenched and looked alarmed by the wild, crazy weather all around us - the thunder and lightening, and hard driving rain. I yelled through the storm and said we needed get moving down the infinite stairs that we had just climbed, and head off the mountain. I took off down and they followed. Eventually they faded in the distance behind me.

By the time I reached the archway at the entrance to the park, I was all in; very tired and mighty hungry. Then it occurred to me that given the size of the village at the base of Wutong Mountain, it might be difficult to find a taxi. I began walking through the village hoping to find a means of getting back to the hotel. After almost 45 minutes, a taxi sailed past me with passengers. I hailed the driver guessing that the driver would love to find a return fare back to Shenzhen. I was right. He came back within minutes, after dropping his other customers. I was on my way back to my hotel and a good meal. I had covered 10.22 miles in 3:42 hours, ascending 5454 feet and descending 5429.

I thought back to Spurgeon. For this morning he had written,

Thank God, then, if you have been led by a rough road: it is this which has given you your experience of God’s greatness and lovingkindness. Your troubles have enriched you with a wealth of knowledge to be gained by no other means: your trials have been the cleft of the rock in which Jehovah has set you, as he did his servant Moses, that you might behold his glory as it passed by. Praise God that you have not been left to thedarkness and ignorance which continued prosperity might have involved, but that in the great fight of affliction, you have been capacitated for the outshinings of his glory in his wonderful dealings with you.
[Morning and Evening – Morning July 11, Charles Spurgeon]

I had made my plans for a trail run on Wutong Mountain, but God had chosen to delightfully interrupt my designs His own. He wanted me to see His glory – the flutter of butterfly wings, a rising mist, the gentle rain, and then thunder and lightening atop Wutong Mountain itself. I had seen and felt the wonder and power of my glorious, holy Lord. What a day, and what a run to remember.

Friend, I'm running the trails. I'm hoping we meet along the way. I'll look for the glory of God in your eyes, and the way you love a storm and flutter of a butterfly's wing. Run hard and run true, my friend. I'll be right along.

My Lord, I have loved you

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 09:58:16 PDT

My Lord, I have loved you

My Lord, I have loved You
Longer than I have Known Your Name,
Yet dangling by my own imagination,
Severed helpless from the wonder of Your world
Of Your mercies long pouring;
Oil of grace upon my undeserving soul.

Yearnings deep to cling to You,
Yet so unable to rise or reach,
Blind eyes hungry to see You,
Yet so vacant and without vision,
Hollow ears longing for a word,
Yet so empty in staggering silence,
Wearied heart anxious to feel,
Yet so cold stone hard and dead.

My Lord, I have loved You
Longer than I have Known Your Name,
Yet soaring now on Your own certainties,
Tethered joyfully on the string of Your own Word
Of Your mercies long pouring;
Oil of grace upon my undeserving soul.

Longings satisfied falling in Your arms,
Still eyes overcome in brilliant light,
Ears flowing with Your sweet song,
Sad heart changed in a moment’s time;
To hold and see and hear and love You,
So long desired and now embraced,
Oh unearned grace, Oh mercy full that
You found me, calling me by name.

Henry Lewis
31 May 2008

My Passion at Sixty

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Tue, 05 Oct 2010 20:28:12 PDT

It is now sixty years I am upon this place, this world, this tangle of earthly pursuits.
And what am I to say? I am an infinite debtor to my Lord. I owe a sum beyond all measures.
Yet I have been bought with a sacred price. And the trail I follow is His own Calvary road.
Oh, if I could somehow embrace this road, the harsh struggles, the deep abiding joys;
If I could somehow place my feet in His own steps, or weep forever upon His nail-pierced hands.
Yet it is enough He loves me. He loves me even with my so many sins and wayward wanders.
It is now sixty years I am upon this place, this world, this tangle of heartrending sorrows.
And what am I to say? I love Him with a deepening passion, yes, so much more. A holy love.
Oh more the love for He has held me near, heart-beating near through many dark nights.
He has been my true Friend, my Champion. He has held my head when all was lost upon my sea.
He has my life; I gave it to Him long ago, though I would give it a thousand times and then again.
He is the world to me, no less. He is my only breath, my heart, my joy, my sole abiding passion.
It is now sixty years I am upon this place, this world, as my eyes fix upon my Sovereign Redeemer.

Henry Lewis
5 October 2010

Struggles as a Place of Expectation

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 19:45:16 PDT

The trail goes on. There is a call of God on our lives. It is a song. When I sit quietly before Him I hear the ache and longing, I feel the pull of eternity and His whispers – songs beckoning me to Him, drawing me. Oh, to be like Him, loving Him more fully and clearly, knowing Him more perfectly. This is the song. Yet at times the weariness of the road wears on me, the sameness, the drone, the constant pressure in this fallen place on the redeemed heart. We take the long road. We run the trails.

Stirred from a fitful attempt to sleep by the flight attendants and the promise of something to eat, I cracked my eyes open a bit, dropped my tray table, and awaited the breakfast meal. We were coming into Buenos Aires after an almost 9 ½ hour leg from Atlanta. I had begun my journey from Minneapolis, and had been traveling since a 2pm takeoff the day before. I glanced over my left shoulder and caught an image of a radiant orange band of light indicating an approaching dawn. A short time later the sun was streaming into the window of our aircraft. It was Sunday morning over Argentina.

My previous entry to this blog was written at the end of January. It is now the end of March. Almost two full months have passed with many trails and adventures, and little time to chronicle the wonder along the way. It is time to reflect and time to share some of the texture of these passing days. There was a modest run of 5.53 miles near Austin, Texas, a few runs near my home in Minnesota in various directions and distances, 10.13, 4.25, and 15 miles. A few treadmill workouts in upstate New York, and a couple of runs in Buenos Aires of 6.25 and 10.5 miles with temperatures in the mid-80Fs and humidity standing at 87% in a near dead calm. These last runs a week ago in Argentina pushed me to new levels of endurance as I purposely layered them with intense elliptical, interval workouts to challenge myself. When I arrived at the hotel yesterday, I cleaned up, had a real breakfast, slept for two hours, and went for an 8 mile run in the same park as two weeks ago – Ecologica Reserva along the Rio de la Plata. The temperature was 79F, 79% humidity – again, a dead calm - perfect for an endurance workout. This run was a real study in determination and endurance. I began the run physically flat-lined, nearly exhausted from my travels, but set myself to run at least 6 miles. As it turned out, I was reluctant to stop at 6, so I just kept plodding along through the heat and discomfort. It was good for me.

As we cling to Him through struggles there is a deepening in our hearts, a growing trust and anticipation of His glory. I love this place of expectation. The difficulties seem to fade to the background as we focus on His loving purposes through the hardship. The trails seem to offer me a place to train for life’s deeper struggles. And – as with the running – I find a growing trust and anticipation of His glory through the hard things.

Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
Asaph [Psalm 73:23-25]

The trails continue for me, and I run them as I can. I find a feast, a richness of life along these winding ways. But I hear His song. Yes, the way grows weary and the road is long. But this is a trail that I have not charted. Another much wiser than I laid this route before me before time began. And so I run. I run with my whole heart. I train along these trails for the struggles yet unseen. I find the wonders with every turn and savor the glory He has scattered in abundance all around me. Sometimes the song comes on the wind or in the melody of birds. Sometimes the laughter of children lifts my soul to heaven. And so I run. Will you come along? Will you set your course to run? There is a call on the wind. Do you hear it? Let us run hard and true. Let us not be set back by hardship and struggle, but push on and savor these trails laid out before us.

Dance Along Eternity’s Glimmering Edge

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 08:08:04 PST

Sometimes when I run I discover a new world, an enchanted place for dreaming where my imagination drifts high into the heavens and seems to brush the divine. Almost as an afterthought, I skirt the edges of eternity and run past a thousand sacred moments in my pursuit of lesser things. How do I miss the holy moments so easily, and casually overlook the deepest considerations? Friday morning, 29 January 2010, at 8:32am I was standing on the trail’s edge anxious to get moving. I had lingered a half hour longer than planned enjoying a second cup of coffee. But now I faced my next challenge and was itching to go. It was a quiet morning in Saint Edwards State Park near Seattle, hazy without direct sunlight, subdued, still; a canvas as yet unpainted. I was planning an intense workout, and that is just what I got. I ran three circuits - each including a steep descent down the North Trail, running along Lake Washington, a steep climb up the South Trail, returning down the South Trail descending hard, along the water again, and pounding up the North Trail. Three of these circuits measured a total of 10.6 miles in 3:01 hours ascending 4314 feet and descending 4348. This was a lot of up and down in the space of 10 miles over 3 hours – at least for me. And I felt fabulous after the run. This certainly was one of my strongest workouts to date.

But the forest gave me much to think about, and the thoughts have lingered on in my mind. As I moved along the trails, the old growth forests hung heavy with time and age, the massive trunks of standing pines, the ancient fern beds and ivy cover, and ever present moss gathering at the whisper of any moist, northern exposure. I could feel the near timelessness of the place. And in it all I felt as if the forest itself was hung as a rich curtain of opulent colors and fragrance, draped in time and mystery and a thousand stories of love and sorrow – and I was running through it unaware of the magnitude of the moment or the place; running on the edge of many other lives. Each step a sound, an echo, a ripple back to other moments and adventures. At times the trail was nothing but a blur, at other times I took in its great detail. I passed numerous shelters that wildlife had used, hollowed trunks and burrows. I wondered about the shelter I have found in the Word of God and in His faithfulness. As I crashed down a steep descent I felt His courage rise within me. As I began a steep climb with no energy left within me, I found His strength sufficient to each step. And as I ran, as I pushed beyond the limits I had known it seemed in some measure that I needed to set myself aside, to die to my efforts –again and again, casting myself on Him, on His sure faithfulness. With each moment I needed to die to me so that I could live to Him.

The great curtain of forest hangs before us all with every trail we run. This wonderland of beauty carries us away with its loveliness and seems to press us into another world beyond. The trails we run are not the simple trails of creatures earthbound and common. Rather, these trails – they are pathways to the heart, trails to truer things. These trails let us dance and weave along eternity’s glimmering edge. We play in this timeless majesty. We are hearing the sounds of heaven in the small gurgling brooks, catching the fragrance of His glory in the ancient aroma of the woodlands, and feeling the wing of an angel on the edge of a passing breeze. Step high, my friend, along these trails that we run together. Oh, may we run hard and true. Step high for we encounter things more sacred and pure than ever we would have thought. We hear the voice of God as He whispers to our hearts for we have seen Him painting a canvas with every trail we have ever run.

Deep Fragrance, Mud, and Wonder

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 00:50:49 PST

A little over a week ago I left my home at 1:18 in the afternoon and headed for Birch Island Park. I worked some of my favorite hills, crossing the crusty ice and snow, and finding my rhythm along the afternoon trails - feeling the edge of winter in the cold air, the freeing, fresh atmosphere of the day. Covering 6.40 miles in 1:41 hours, I ascended 1059 feet and descended 1055. The moment seemed sacred and my heart was drawn to consider this mystery. Are these places so rich with His glory that they are holy places? I wonder.

One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple. [Psalm 27:4]

A few days later I hit the trail in Purgatory Park at 6:55am. Predawn, cold, and very quiet. I circuited the park a number of times and accumulated 10.05 miles in 2:17 hours, ascending 1277 feet and descending 1301. It was a good, solid workout, and yet the echoes of my previous run were resonating in my heart and mind. I could hear each footfall and felt the miles wind out before me. I had as my original objective a 5-7 mile effort, but was caught in the moment, the place and sense that these were special times reserved for Him. How could I so easily separate myself from the glory and wonder? I could not, and so I ran on. It was a good run, and in a way I could gaze upon the beauty of the Lord. As I meditated on these simple things it was like inquiring in His temple. I loved this run and this place. But there were more trails ahead.

It was a few days later that I landed in Seattle WA, checked into a hotel, and headed immediately to Saint Edwards State Park. I had visited this park before, and knew I was in for a treat. It was 3:39pm, and I was hungry for trails and a strong workout, and off I went. It took me 2:14 hours to cover 7.25 miles, ascending 3609 feet and descending 3620. Yes, there were some mighty nice hills involved and I was loving it! This was the primary reason I selected this park. In Saint Edwards I ran among the old growth forests, breathing in the deep fragrance of woodlands, of ferns and moss and soil. The temperature was mid 50s. Some areas needed careful navigation. Recent rains had turned steep descents muddy and very slick. I managed to avoid a crash and left the trails deeply refreshed and satisfied with the intensity. It was very good. In fact, it is always good to dig deep within ourselves, to push beyond the limits we think we have and to find new levels of endurance and strength. Trails have taught me many things. But maybe it’s not the trails as much as my companion along the trails. I am never alone. The beautiful trails and woodlands are simply the handiwork of my Creator. As I run these foot paths and witness the continuing displays of wonder, I just see the profound testimony of His continuing faithfulness and His love of beauty. This is all around me. It is this display of His greatness and glory that carries me along, strengthens me along the way, and brings me to each trail’s end. Running the trails gives me a deep sense of gratitude. My heart seems larger each time I run. This is why I feel compelled to run the distance, because I am running as a simple testimony to Him. Will I see you down the trail? We could run together into His breathtaking wonders holding to our course with the strength that He supplies. I’ll be watching for you. Until then, run hard and run true, my friend.

Hard Crusty Ice and Broken Trail

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 09:58:08 PST

Sometimes it seems that I am being followed by glory. It clings to my garments with laughter and mirth, with spontaneity, a wild, natural joy. But at other times a great weariness settles on me with haunting shadows, and my heart becomes weighty and tired. And yet the trail remains. The trail strings out in front of me each day drawing me into my tomorrows. And so I must run through these things, these changing moods and winds of the each day. I must run through both the glories and the shadows that confront me. And here the trail becomes my teacher of deep things. It teaches me to carry on, to go forward in the face of challenge, and to run through my joys and my sorrows; to run as I run my trails – taking the paths boldly and full of faith in the One Who Made these trails for me. I run full-hearted even as the distance presses me hard; I go for the trail’s end with all that I have. He has given me this heart to hold. I run for Him.

On Monday, 4 January at 7:50am I went out with my 30-year-old daughter for a quick run in nearby Purgatory Park. We did 2 laps. It was -12F (-24C), and dangerously cold. We covered 2.44 miles in 31:38 minutes. By then, we had had enough and just wanted breakfast and hot coffee. Sometimes there is nothing better than a hot cup of coffee. But we had gone out into the frigid cold. We did it! A few days later on Thursday, 7 January, she and I were in northern Minnesota, near Ulen, and figured that a short run was in order. It was just before noon. So among the corn fields and farming silos, along the country roads and wide spaces of the prairie, we covered a 3.06 mile route around the small town in 36:45 minutes. It was -8F (-22C), so it was still a bit nippy. But we kept moving. Again, we did it! Later that day at sunset, we saw “sundogs” (rainbows each side of the setting sun). One could almost imagine that there were three suns setting that night. We were so blessed. What can we say of such wonders in this world? Surrounded as we are by glory continually, it is easy to overlook the constant grandeur and breathtaking strength of our Lord as He holds all things together by the word of His power. Yes, we are just men, and this universe is so vast, so infinite. It seems we can never grasp it. Sometimes it is good just to have a trail to follow, to keep things in perspective.

A few days back on Wednesday, 13 January at 7:51am I went out alone from my home headed for trails and hills. It was 23F (-6C), near ideal for running. I made for Birch Island Park and dropped into the woods 11 minutes later. This was like heaven. Crisp, snowy trails, the hush of early morning in a winter woodland, stillness yet vastly alive, teeming with life, subdued glory but crystal-like and brilliant. My footfalls tracing along a single trail, and later along little used tracks, high-stepping through 8-12 inches of snow cover, irregular steps and uneven tracks to follow – a thousand glories and challenges wrapped into my 2:22 hours of running. I covered 7.59 miles, ascending 1377 and descending 1325. I was working my hills and loving every minute of it. In fact, I was so taken with my surroundings that I snapped over 30 pictures; breathless with the wonder. It was a magnificent run.

Along the way I was thinking of how our trails are filled with a mingling of joys and sorrows. I was considering how we grow trail weary and discouraged even as we track through such wonderlands of beauty. But as trail runners we have learned to handle some of this. It is one of the great things about our running life – adapting, having the discipline, having the passion, reaching for hard goals, seeing things through, and – all the while - grasping the wonder and joy in the midst of our struggles. And I was considering that this mix of joy and sorrow is common to anyone who has been on life’s trails for any length time. It is the challenge we all face. As I ran, I listened to the worshipful singing of Josh Garrells (http://www.joshgarrels.com/).

“When we were young
We walked where we wanted to
Life was ours,
And now we’re old
We go where we’re told
The Lord’s Spirit calls,
He’s singing
Follow my road to sorrow and joy
Be intertwined,
And find
All things are under my wings
And rise,
Given time…” [from Desert Father by Josh Garrells]

My feet traced the snow-packed, single-track wooded trail through the growing light. It had been awhile since my training had been consistent. I could feel the impact of my earlier high-stepping through snow cover, of the irregular surfaces of hard crusty ice and broken trail, of the hill repeats and distance. I was growing tired. So I fixed my thoughts on my run’s end and kept to my course. You know how the story ends, because you are a runner. In the end, I finished - coming up into the driveway of my home. Some few minutes later I was lingering over a hot cup of coffee and savoring the memory of my delicious morning adventure. We thread our way along forest paths, across fields, and anywhere our hearts are drawn. And in the end we have learned much about ourselves. We have seen with each step a flicker of glory and a shadow of sorrow. With each trail and run, we have savored the wonders and touched the hard things, too. We have had great happiness and borne sadness on our way. This is our life and our days; and the trails have been our teachers. Come with me, friend, and run hard and true. Let us run the race that is set before us.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us... [Hebrews 12:1]

I hope to see you down the trail. We share so many things. I run for the sheer joy that is set before me. I run with everything I have in me. The trail is often hard, but I do not run alone. I’ll be looking for you. Keeping running.

Bridge from Despair to Hope

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 08:07:15 PST

The light is coming now. In the growing light I have expectations. I watch the last day of 2009 unwrap itself with possibility. And yet the weariness is there. The world weighs on me. I set aside this quiet despair and choose my ever-present hope, “the lifter of my head”.

"But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head." [Psalm 3:3]

I cling, as I do each morning of my life, to the Lord Jesus. We cross this bridge together – He and I - from despair to hope in twinkling of the eye; in a moment of the heart; as the day dawns. I reach for Him and His deep, firm comforts, and the haunting shadows slip away. The world looses its hold on me. The light increases, the day breaks, the sun rises - a fresh, new morning. The Lord has made all things new. It will be a good day.

Today I feel my sore muscles from the 10K winter run yesterday. It took me 1:31 hours to cover 6.2 miles. Several days before, my daughter Abbey was looking for a run, so we laid down a bit over 5K in the afternoon in about 39 minutes. Over these most holy days my running has been irregular, so I expect to feel the soreness and impact of almost any run. But I was determined to run early yesterday morning. The night before, I set out my things so that I could push out the door as soon as I woke. The challenge was simply to leap over that first hurdle, to break through that initial resistance, and get to the thing at hand. And so I found myself on the edge of Purgatory Park at 6:30am yesterday morning. It was dark, but just so. I decided against the headlamp in this earliest dim light of darkness, and pushed off to the left, clockwise, up the slope along the plowed trail that surrounds the park. This is a circuit of 1.23 miles, undulating hills and gentle slopes with numerous pleasant perspectives - when you can see them. I was enjoying the early morning brace of raw cold and the bite in the occasion breeze, my feet crunching along the ice and snow, a rhythm in footfalls, almost quiet, and so peaceful – yes, restful almost. Here a person can sort things out, can pray and worship and wait on the counsel of the Lord in the breathtaking silence of early morning. Words are few, thoughts are heaven bound, and my feet trace a trail along the snowy ways. I take the gentle inclines as they come, and once each circuit (I will make five circuits plus a little), I climb steeply to the park’s summit, off-road on a single foot trail, carved by those of us who simply cannot resist the glorious pleasure of this view from highest spot above the park. With each climb to the summit I pause amazed, and gaze out across the breathtaking vista. A fairly small park - but so beautiful. It is rich with God’s fingerprints. This park may be one of His smaller canvases as far as landscapes, but His work is masterful and divine; glory-laden wonders laid out plain for us. You don’t need to be a theologian to see His sign here. It is plain.

"Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory,
for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness!" [Psalm 115:1]

The light is coming. How could you ever miss God here? It seems impossible. And then I resume the run, the rhythm along the snowy path in the ever-increasing light of the morning. The rhythm, the cadence of life that has come to expect God’s wonder in a thousand twists and surprises; the ever-turning, cycling seasons; the crazy madcap wonder in a child’s joy and delight; the sun and rain, the blazing glory of the rising sun each day as God whispers His common grace across the morning. I resume my run into His wonder, into His grace. I run because of Him.

Sometimes when I look back over my shoulder I catch a glimpse of despair approaching. I feel the weight and troubles, the darkness of the world and the weariness, hope seems to hang lifeless there. And the darkness begins to close in on me. Then He comes - bold, light of dawn, breaking across the horizon.

"And he who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'” [Revelation 21:5]

The Lord comes as I have been taught by every sunrise that I have ever seen. He comes in glory and wonder, and He comes in His faithfulness and hope. He comes as I place my hope and trust in Him. No, the troubles will not vanish, but he will give me the strength to run, to love, to forgive. He will lift me as I reach out to Him. He will comfort me as I listen to Him. His words are true and simple. I hear my footsteps crunching on the snowy trail. I feel the rhythm in my steps that He has taught me over the many miles together. His grace abounds and it only remains for me to accept His love in this dark, harsh world. I feel the cold, but even the bite of winter reminds me of His constant provision and grace. Oh, may we run! May we feel His kindness with each step along the trail. Let’s run hard and true! Oh, may we run hard and true for Him. Come with me today, my friend. Life’s trails lay out before us, and they are unknown to us. How shall we run and for whom?

A Weight of Wonder and a Feast

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 06:12:55 PST

The trails wind out before us and our feet have touched a thousand places as the wonders have spread out before our eyes. We are captives of these fleeting glories, wanderers in this special world created for us by the loving hands of God. We are most blessed.

It is Tuesday morning, 8 December 2009, Kolkata India. Yesterday I ran a 5K on the hotel treadmill. Today I will do a 10K on the same machine. It has been over a month since I have written in this place about the trails we run and the struggles we face on the way. And like you all, the trails and challenges continue whether we write or not. Since the last time I wrote, I have traveled 45,000 miles and dusted the trails and treadmills in four counties on three continents. And the trails and struggles have attended me with each new place. Each fresh trail has offered a feast of difficulties and a feast of things to behold. Along with the struggles, I have found beauty and wonder that stretches my heart and sends my spirit to soaring to new heights. These wings to fly seem to come of the rarified air in the times of struggle and hardship. So I cannot turn away from the hard places. They are by design for my good. The difficulties seem to prepare our hearts to see with more clarity and insight. Is it the same for you?

Since I wrote of the old growth forests, the ancient trees and their abiding mystery, I have been many places – almost moving too quickly to pause and appreciate, to allow the air of each new place to tease me into a run and into fresh discoveries. Looking back over these weeks, the past lays out in a crazy, wandering line. But let me share. Late October found me pounding out a 10.36 mile trail run in the Reserva Ecologica in Buenos Aires, Argentina. In early November I managed a 10K and a 5K treadmill run in Sao Paulo, Brazil, followed a few days later by a 13.86 mile run in the Parque Ibirapuera. Returning to Buenos Aires in mid-November, I managed to squeeze in a 7.13 mile run in the Reserva Ecologica. Returning home, I had the opportunity to run a 5K on Thanksgiving (26 November). A good friend of mine, Brian, suggested running from his home (insert 6:30am start and 6.75 miles here) to the 5K event. It was wonderful. An early morning run in the pre-dawn darkness. My total for the day – 9.85 miles. In late November/early December, I returned to Buenos Aires only briefly – enough to drop a 5K on a treadmill – and head for home before coming to India. This is a recap of my last 9 runs.

I could almost fit these nine runs on the back of a postcard. But could I? No. It cannot be done. For truly each run, each experience and challenge we lay before ourselves and follow through on - each one carries a weight of wonder and a feast for the heart’s enchantment. A mere description of place and time and distance cannot capture the spirit of the place, the struggles and attitudes, the dark challenges that tell us to give up and quit; no mere recap can capture the lovely rays of light that dance on leaves, a thousand glimmering jewels of dew and the early morning breeze coming from the Río de la Plata near Puerto Madero in Buenos Aires. It takes your whole heart. It is not words, it is life. These are not mere facts to be listed. Rather, they are the fingerprints of the living God on our lives - His world spun into being by His own hand; and we are given the opportunity to handle it, to see and smell it’s deep hues, and wonder at it manifold complexities and mystery. We are given this window to see Him and know that He is there. I would not miss this for the world.

The trails will continue and the wonder will never cease. He is Lord and His world declares His greatness each time we slip on our shoes and start down a trail. We, each of us in our own way, begin to see Him more clearly and with greater reverence than the last trail we ran. I must run and I must declare His place along the road. Will you come along and see? Will you run the trails and watch for His unmistakable fingerprints in every living thing? I hope to see you soon. Let’s run together and see. Let’s run hard and true into the breaking light and the glories that abound.

Old Growth Forests and the Quiet of the Ancient

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:43:05 PST

It seemed like only a few days ago that I was running in Vancouver BC, and now I was standing at the trail entry to Bridle Trails State Park near Seattle, Washington. I had seen it on the maps. It looked intriguing – and it was; the same lofty pines reaching into the heavens. Looking up I tried to take in the forest canopy far above, holding out the light, misty rain with an intimate coolness. To take it in, took my breath away; a vast and ancient covering. There just are no words to convey being in this ancient place. I seemed suspended in time. Then the trails beckoned me. It was 3:30pm Monday, 19 October 2009 and I was on the trails. Over the next hour and 50 minutes (1:50) I covered 6.84 miles ascending 3252 feet and descending 3199 for a humbling pace of 16:10 minutes per mile. But this was fine by me, I was here to enjoy this beautiful place and soak up God’s natural wonders afresh. Dashing among the ferns and the old stumps of long ago, I breathed in the fragrance of the woods. And the quiet; oh, the treasured, hallowed quiet of these massive, ancient forests. At one point I came to a large clearing in the trees of about 150 feet in across. I felt like I was in the huge hall of a cathedral, the spires rising into the heavens, the silence across the huge open space, and a hallowed atmosphere hanging in the magical air. All this was further heightened by the autumn colors bursting richly into view. As I emerged from the trees and headed for my car, I felt as if I’d just come from a prayer time with God. The run was good and the atmosphere was deeply moving. I came away with a renewed clarity that God, my God, the Lord of the heavens and the earth – He had made it all; and I had just been with Him in His beautiful creation. He was everywhere.

During the week my colleagues suggested another place for running. Friday I headed for Saint Edwards State Park. I got to the place about noon, and had only time for an hour-long run before taking off to the airport. So off I went. This park was also stunning in its ancient beauty and rich forest coverings, the ferns and underbrush, the splay of fall colors and the high-over-head canopy of leaves, the trails twisting along a natural flow of the land, first winding through the trees, and then descending, descending, descending until I stood on the shore of Lake Washington. A quick check on the time, and I was burning up the steep incline and dashing along the trails that I had just covered going the other way. In the initial stage of my run I had maintained an active though not crazy pace. Now I was pushing the clock and needed to make swift tracks. I noticed that even though I was really cruising as I came out of the woods heading for my car, I could not ignore the glory that hangs – it seems always to hang – in these forest lands. In 57 minutes I covered 3.87 miles for a pace of 14:43. I had ascended 2614 feet and descended 2621. I think these woods have made my heart a little bigger. In some ways, God seems closer still to me – having been in these old-growth forests.

It is a good thing to look long and quietly at the world that God has made. I am so glad that I can run them and experience these places, taste these wonders, these declarations of His glory and magnificence. These were old-growth forests, ancient and deeply beautiful in their glory. And yet they pale beside their maker. If these woods and their delight can take my breath away, what shall become of me? God’s glory is immeasurably greater and more wonderful. If I were not infinitely loved, I would be afraid. But I trust Him wholly. These runs have shown me ancient forests. And yet it is the Ancient of Days that I run after. It is Him that I seek. Will you come? Let’s run hard and true. It is not the woods that call to us, it is the Lord Himself.

Marathons, Trails, and Immortality

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 14:29:17 PDT

Sunday the 4th of October was an almost perfect marathon running day. I had the opportunity to catch a ride with Jeff, a fellow marathoner, early in the morning. We headed into Minneapolis to the starting area for our run. We were both looking for great experiences and got to there in plenty of time. I dressed in shorts, a singlet, and gloves. The temperature at race start was hovering around 45.2F and climbed modestly over my run to 54.6F, a light north breeze averaging 7.5 mph. Somewhere along the way, we encountered a very light mist-like rain lastly only 20 minutes or so - refreshing. At a little over 10 miles Jeff drifted on ahead of me, and I was glad for him. I settled into a slower pace and moved along. For whatever reason the remaining 16 miles required serious determination. My mind and body complained constantly. I’ve run a few marathons, so the distance was not new. But on that day, in that place I was really struggling. It was good for me to have to fight for it. I need that. I need to feel the reach and the effort in order to truly value the prize. My chip time was 5:14; one of my slowest. But that’s fine for me. After a fantastic burger and fries (Whoa, yeah!), I headed home for a shower, and then dashed to the airport - I was heading to Vancouver, BC.

Working in Vancouver BC the following week, a colleague asked on Monday, “So you run a little? We go out on Wednesdays for a little run on the trails… You want join us?” I could hardly believe my ears. How perfect! But could I run on my tired marathon legs? Then, how could I pass up a wonderful trail run? What a blessing! I said, “Yes! I’d love to. Just tell me where to be.” The next day Paul supplied me with maps to get me to the meeting point of the group. Wednesday after work I made my way to the location on the map – “the corner store”, and met up with my friend Paul and the other members of this hardy band of runners – another Paul, Jen, Bob, Sue, and Michelle. There were seven of us altogether and off we went into the Lynn Canyon Park on the Baden-Powell trail that tracks along the edge of Lynn Creek - incredible beauty from my first steps; a high woodland canopy alive with birds and other wildlife. At the outset the group was moving at about 9:30 minute per mile. A healthy pace for me on my just-a-few-days-ago marathon legs, but I thought to myself – “Hey, let’s go!” The massive trees and lovely forest trails interspersed with rock beds, twisting roots and branches, and the typical undulations of a woodland trail - every breath a fragrant blessing, every sight a glorious declaration. We were running through a wonderland of glory. This was all that I imagined and so much more. By the time we made our turnaround point, night had fallen and we were in near darkness. I had been cautioned to bring a headlamp. As we set our return direction I did not have time to get my headlamp ready, and just set off down the trail. In the dark as the twists and roots and boulders threatened to crash me, I was eventually forced to simply stop in the total darkness and get my headlamp going. Yeah, now I could see – and off I went chasing the string of lights snaking along the trail ahead of me in the night. What a fabulous evening. In all we covered 6.91 miles in 1:26 hours (the others at a somewhat better pace). For me this was an overall pace of 12:31 with 2639 ascending/2657 descending. A very good run with new friends along the trails. Oh, and the burger I had following the run was excellent! What a perfect evening.

Several mornings later I journaled,

“This morning feeling very mortal… Many muscles are sore… But I just could not let my invitation to run trails in Vancouver BC slip away. So now I will slow for a bit and heal… I came downstairs and lay on the couch, and noticed a short time later the sun was about to break out above the trees through the front window into my face. I decided to let the sun and dappling light stir me to full wakefulness. Ah, my morning begins in thanksgiving and praise even if I do feel mortal. Yes, we are immortals and aware of the realms beyond.”

When God formed us, He made us creatures with immortal souls. We run these trails and see his handiwork, we taste His glory, and our senses come alive to His majesty. And just every so often we glimpse His eternal nature and come away speechless and overwhelmed. It is that He calls to us continually, urging us to listen with greater care and attentiveness to His love song. Perhaps King David said it best when he sang,

Praise the Lord from the earth, you great sea creatures and all deeps,
fire and hail, snow and mist, stormy wind fulfilling his word!

Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars!
Beasts and all livestock, creeping things and flying birds!

Kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all rulers of the earth!
Young men and maidens together, old men and children!

Psalm 148:7-12

Our ears prick excitedly and our hearts lean forward to hear Him more clearly. Yes, we are awakened to new depths of His beauty. I was glad for the marathon and glad for the trails north of Vancouver BC. These were rich experiences for me. But to be honest, I simply run for Him. I run the trails and run the races so that I might see Him a little more clearly along the way. And my hope is that you will be there along the trails – listening with me for the voice of Him to whom we owe our very lives and the breath of our being. The great trees of Lynn Valley Canyon Park shake with His glory praising Him. May our legs run and our lips sing of His infinite worth and beauty. Oh, may we both run hard and true dancing on the winds of immortality.

I’ll See You There

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 20:05:31 PDT

As I taper into this weekend’s marathon, I’m running just to enjoy it, to love the movement, to stay loose and ready. Yesterday I laid down a simple 5 miles in 53 minutes. I am anticipating a feast of running; a good time and a happy, celebratory experience. Sure, I will struggle through some aspects and adapt myself to situations, but I have already determined to stay focused on the finish line – to complete my run, Lord willing. Yet every day I breathe I am focused on the finish line, the far country - I wrote about this a short time ago – eyes and heart fixed on the far country. So, the Twin Cities Marathon this weekend is just another of life’s warm-ups for that great day.

My father in the last few days of his life wrote a letter to the family. In it he said, “We all await that great day, I’ll see you there.” I still cry when I read his words. I weep with longing for that great day with the Lord, my Sovereign, my King. My father died many years ago, and over time my heart has been drawn with ever increasing intensity to think of that far country. I am more focused than ever on eternity. But we have trails to run and lives to live. How do we live with eternity hanging before us? King Solomon once wrote,

He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. [Ecclesiastes 3:11]

God has put eternity into our hearts. He has put some fragrance of heaven, some notion of the far country into our lives to quicken us; a quiet calling out as we make our way through this life on earth. On the trails as we run, we see His handiwork. As we dash along the hills, we hear creation singing to Him in bird songs and on the wild breezes; we see trees waving glorious praise to Him as they dance on the crazy, sometimes stormy, wind. And all the while He quietly beckons us to Himself, calls us to set our gaze to the far country, to His purposes and His treasures. And still there is a life to be lived and trails to run – but we do them all for Him. Yes, there are people to love, and there is laughter and joy – and sometimes sadness and grief. Yes, so many things to echo heaven’s call. Well, for the moment, I’ll just focus on that finish line out there, and I’ll run for Him, for my joy in Him. Together, let’s both run hard and true. This is the thing. Remember what my Dad said, “We all await that great day, I’ll see you there.”

Solitude and the Long Distance Runner

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 08:19:07 PDT

Solitude is necessary to the long distance runner. Through many hours the runner moves along the trail through the breezes or the stillness of the day. Over the miles, through the quiet he paces forward accompanied only by his reflections. This is the stuff of distance running; to be alone.

We break this up occasionally with music we’ve brought along or messages to listen to that inspire or teach, but in the end we are left with our thoughts. If you are like me, you cherish these times. These are precious seasons to dwell on the important things, and to dwell on the mundane; to ponder and expand a thought; to thrive in the life of the mind. But there is a limit to these reveries; there is a moment when we have had enough of our own mind and we just want to speak with someone, exchange ideas and have a dialogue with another person.

A few days ago I had scheduled my final long run in preparation for the upcoming TCM marathon. I rose at 4am, biked 5 miles to the Hopkins Depot, ran to the southernmost end-point of the Regional Trail and back – a total distance of 26.2 miles (26.5 with detour), and then biked 5 miles home. The morning was perfect for my run. First the darkness of early morning, and then a light misty rain in the breaking dawn, brief and refreshing; the gradual stirrings of wildlife, the birds and squirrels as the light increased to full daylight, just a wonderful day. Other runners started popping up a little after 6 in the morning, just a few. The numbers of runners, walkers, and bikers increased with the growing light of day. My pictures try and capture some of the visual magic of this run. It was a stunning day to see and smell and savor in so many ways.

My training run was very slow as runs go. It took me almost 6 hours – very slow even for me. But I’m not concerned given that I had compressed a series of workouts into a little over a week’s time to get to my last long run. I think I will be fine by marathon time. The run was so good for so many things not the least of which was my heart. I needed time with God – alone.

Yes, solitude is woven into the life of the long distance runner. But for me this solitude is enjoined with my passion for God, my love of Him and the things He loves. When I run I usually enjoy a solitude from men. But my own restlessness and longings to run are often signals to me that I need to draw near to Him for a quiet season. The long run offers me an extended solitude with God; time to reflect and allow Him to put things in perspective, to listen, to love more deeply than yesterday, to run with steady heart and resolve, setting discomforts aside and reaching for His fellowship, digging deep and learning - once again – to wait on Him, just to wait on Him. Solitude with God on the long run gives me time to be truly alone with Him. I need this time. I need His fellowship.

Oh, the enemy of our souls would work to destroy these precious times, give us hardships and struggles, discouragements. But we must determine to have none of it; to turn our attentions wholly to the purposes at hand. We must determine to press on in the face of tough things and strive to achieve what we have set out to do. For me these are simple things: 1) Spend time with Him and 2) Train to the next level, always watchful not to push too hard and cause injury. We listen to our bodies as we strive to avoid over-training and things. We listen to God as we strive to strengthen our passion for God and reach new heights in our love for Him. Running is a simple thing. I think that loving God is the same.

My friend, let’s both run hard and true. We have no greater purpose than to find Him along these trails. I’ll be looking for the next trailhead, a break in the trees, and a small footpath into the woods. Will you be there? I’m hoping to see you soon. Give a wave, I’ll smile back!

On the Edge of a Molecule

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 20:13:42 PDT

“Would you like pancakes?” my wife asked yesterday as we were driving home from the church. It was early afternoon. “Need to run 8 miles of hill trails first, but you guys go ahead without me.” I had a marathon to run in a couple of weeks, and I was a little lean on training. I knew that a moderate length run with some technical challenge would be good, and I had just the place in mind. I was headed, once again, to Birch Island Park. Though the park is relatively small for distance running, I knew I could accomplish my afternoon goals with a series of repeats through this beautiful forest area. I was running toward Birch Island by 2:15pm on a delightful, sunny afternoon. I ran 8.15 miles over 1:52 hours. Yes! There were many climbs and descents, and twisting trails, rock scree, roots, and wonder. So much wonder beyond my mind for its beauty and majesty. Autumn is coming and the reds and golden colors are beginning to fill the woods. This season is perhaps my favorite time of the year, though each has its unique qualities. I ran easy into these divine displays of glory all abounding.

“Who is like you, O Lord, among the gods? Who is like you, majestic in holiness, awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders?" [Exodus 15:11 ESV]

As we take to the trails to run the footpaths and breath in the fresh open air, we naturally expose ourselves to the divine; the nature of God as seen in His manifold creation, seemingly infinite varieties and captivating designs, wholly unknown vistas seen on the edge of a molecule or through an early morning droplet of dew clinging to a leaf. These are the things that transport us; cause us to shift our perspective and look with new eyes on things we have seen our whole lives, to see them as the handiwork of God. The trails reveal more than they appear. They are often pathways to apprehending the Lord, doorways to divine wonder. I guess that’s why we run. We run to know ourselves. And for some of us, we run to know Him more clearly. For me, I’m going to continue down these trails. Oh, to run hard and true, and to reach for a growing appreciation of His loveliness and glory. I’ll look for you just down the trail.

Just He and I Along the Trail

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 10:55:03 PDT

After Bangalore I traveled to Pune India. I did not see any reasonable places to run outside, so decided to continue my running in the hotel on a treadmill. I made two treadmill runs over the next week, and have concluded that treadmills are the extreme of urban trail running. The only trail is by one’s own invention. There is no natural beauty except for perhaps a limited, obscured view from a window. There are no serendipitous adventures or surprise vistas along the way except that which derives from within your own thoughts. And there is that moving mat-thingy at my feet that I must STAY ON, or crash badly somewhere behind me. No, don’t turn around! You will lose your balance and slip off. Stay focused! Oh, how far can I go on one of these? How long can I remain so foot-focused without letting my mind wander? On the trails I often let my mind drift in endless directions, but not here, not today. Focus. Just for the record, I had previously run 8 miles on a treadmill ONCE in some faraway hotel a while back. But on Sunday, 6 September, I ran 20K (12.43 miles). It took me 2:26 hours of intense concentration. The following Wednesday I cross-trained on an elliptical with other activities, and Thursday I ran another 10K (6.21 miles) in 1:09 hours adding some cross-training. But I’ve seen enough of treadmills for a while. I was hungry for real trails – the dirt and sky and sun, natural breezes and sounds of birds and crickets in the air. It was time to return to home.

On Monday, 14 September at 7:57am, I hit the trail near my home with great eagerness. I planned a familiar route weaving a 16.63 mile loop through several neighboring communities. It took me 3:29 hours as I plodded out a 12:36 per mile pace. I could say that I was savoring the moment, but the truth is that I’m just not that interested in being fast. I simply enjoy the running even when it’s hard and long. My watch says there was 2386 feet ascending and 2457 descending. No matter; I was just loving the experience of a real trail. My tunes were not working so I stuffed the ipod and determined to enjoy the natural sounds along the way. It was nice to be hitting the trails again. I could feel my mind wandering. It was a good feeling.

I set out again yesterday, Friday, 18 September at 2:23pm under clear skies and 83F (28C) looking to build on my run earlier in the week. I followed basically the same route as a few days before, yet not taking a construction detour and not looping as I passed through Purgatory Park. By then I was flat-lining and pushing heat exhaustion, so I headed for home. I logged 14.53 miles at a pace of 12:25 per mile. It took me 3:00 hours. Ah, the joys of the run! Pushing our limits, soaking up divine grace along the way, spectators to immeasurable beauty wild loveliness in creation, seeing God’s fingerprints across His handiwork, the trees, the sky, the sounds, the glory, and finding our help as we accept the challenge of running long, going the distance, embracing a solitude with Him. These runs of late have been so good for my heart; my spirit leaps to think of these times with Him along the way. Oh, these particular trails are just good running trails. But they tease me to more. They call me to listen with greater care to His voice, watch with more studied eyes His glories all around me. I know I’ve been missing so much. I can’t wait for my next run to reach a little higher and linger longer with Him. Just He and I along the trail; yes, I love to run long. Maybe we will meet someday and share the things we’ve learned. Until then, my friend, run hard and true. He’s listening.

To Will and to Work His Good Pleasure

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 18:29:04 PDT

I was in Bangalore to teach a three day class. Each day as the car took me to my assignment I passed the Assaye Ganj, a small urban lake very near my hotel with a walking path around much of it. I thought each day how pleasant it would be on the day after my classes to make multiple circuits around this lake and enjoy the lovely path and the beautiful flowers. I was truly looking forward to this. So with my class behind me I ventured from my room about 10:30am on Thursday, stopping at the front desk to confirm directions, and then out to the street and a short walk to the lake. As I arrived lakeside, I was greeted with an iron fence of perhaps 9 feet in height. Ok, I thought, I’ll follow this around and go in at the nearest entrance. And so I began. I found numerous padlocked gates, but no passage through to the path within. Eventually, I gave up on the notion of enjoying the path and its urban reveries, and determined to simply circuit the lake outside the gate until I had run 10K (6.2 miles). In 2:09 hours I made seven circuits of the lake covering 16.6K (10.3 miles) for a pace of 12.32 minutes per mile. This 10 mile run was a hard push for me, but I’m not really sure why. I suspect it was the air quality and warm sun. The temperature was about 24C (75F) with humidity in the low 80%. But the sun was hot. Also, my revised route placed me along streets running against on-coming traffic much of the time. If you have ever been to India, you can easily imagine that just running in traffic at all would be an exhausting experience – and it was. But I felt good when I completed my run. I had pushed out beyond obstacles and achieved what I needed to.

I went into yesterday’s run with an idea of where it would take me and the experiences I would have. Earlier in the week I carried vivid images of what my trail would look like. But circumstances prevented my dreams from seeing the light of reality. I was forced along a trail I had not planned for, one that I had not picked, and one that I did not much enjoy. But in the end, I began to see things differently. I saw the fabric of our lives and the breath of our days on earth. We don’t get to pick our trail. God does this with divine eyes and purpose. We may not altogether enjoy the trail our lives are winding along, but it is one given by the Lord in His infinite wisdom. As we pour ourselves into what He has planned, our lives yield fruit to His glory. As we move along His trails we get to be a part of His workings here. Oh, to do the things that He desires with a full and ready heart.

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. [Phillipians 2:12-13]

As I ran along I saw much of Indian life alive all around me: workers digging along the road with simple tools, men and women carrying heavy burdens of crushed rock, kids fishing crabs from a nearby stream, a vendor with a cart of potatoes, onions, tomatoes, and ginger root, and others carrying colorful displays – all teeming with sound and life. There was the smell of garbage and sewage around the lake, as well. This was initially a distraction, but I set my focus on the intensity of the moment and quickly was able to overlook the hanging odors.

The trails before us each day frequently take us in directions we are not inclined to go. It is up to us to embrace these changes and difficulties, just as we would embrace any challenge encountered on our many physical runs. And behind these things is the wonder and majesty of God’s own hands, the Eternal Potter at His wheel, doing His good pleasure, building His work.

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. [Ephesians 2:10]

My run in Bangalore around the lake was like so many difficult things. But I found the Lord along that urban trail as I ran the edges of wild, on-coming traffic amid much noise and horns blowing. He gave me strength and energy and a will to finish. I pray that I would embrace these realities as I run the spiritual trails that often leave me perplexed and weary. Oh friend, it is good to be in the hands of the Divine Potter and to know that His will is finding expression in every nuance of our lives; every step. May we surrender these fleeting moments to His rich sovereignty with joyful confidence; and may we run ever hard and true. I’ll be looking for you down the trail. I might be singing.

Upon the Great Sea of God's Sovereignty

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 17:12:34 PDT

My writer’s pen has been quiet for a number of weeks as I have devoted myself to a brief but healthy and wonderful immersion in family life. My travel schedule saw a three week lull and I was feeling pretty flat-lined by my recent wanderings. On returning from Buenos Aires some weeks back, my daughter suggested a run to and through and back from Purgatory Park using her route. I’d run to this park countless times and there was only my route. But I was curious now. What was her route? We had a delightful time and I learned a new path covering a modest 4.32 miles. I never cease to learn new things if I remain open to learn. It seems that part of me wants to run the same old ruts again and again, while another part of me wants to strike out and explore new things. Mostly these days, I’m leaning into the breeze of adventure with each new day. When I speak of leaning into the breeze of adventure, I mean that I have abandoned myself to the sovereignty of God and His ways for me.

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” [Prov 16:9] “Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.” [Prov 19:21]

Jeepers, it was only a few weeks ago that I was running in Singapore, running hot and humid. I did two runs there along the coast - one of 7.25 and another of 12.7 miles; each run a test of my will and endurance through the waves of heat and heavy air, but God was there. In my struggles I was awed by the beauty and magnificence of the place, and awed most of all by His hand supporting me and carrying me through the difficulty. It was a rich challenge, but I was very happy to see the trails near my home again. Over the three weeks at home I had a few occasions to run Birch Island and Purgatory Park, but remained focused on my family most of all. I felt a deep need to work and set things in order, and to love much with my hands and to work on tasks for the house and family, and to hug and say “good night” and “I love you” in person; to love with my whole self; running with my heart. God gave me a brief season to love in practical, real ways, and I did not want to miss it.

Last week I began traveling again and found myself in North Carolina near Raleigh-Durham, and a favorite running spot - Lake Crabtree County Park. Here they have fantastic mountain bike trails that weave and tuck and jump and dive through a beautiful forest. I did two runs over three days, each one a little over five miles. It was sheer delight. I returned home briefly but have spent much of the weekend traveling. I arrived in Bangalore, India at 5:30am today. It is evening as I look out over the lights of the city. My own trail is running through India and my heart is ever pursuing God. For me in this season the cities change like a kaleidoscope, but He does not change. He is faithful and true. This is how I want to run.

Always our paths weave an endless thread of being along an endless trail that He has laid for each. We lean into His sovereign will and rest in His ways. For all of us the trail is a truly endless one. In an earlier post in May of this year I quoted C.S. Lewis. He wrote, “You have never talked with a mere mortal.” Lewis was observing that we are all eternal beings. We will spend our eternity with God or without Him. How have we run? Was He the pursuit of our lives? Did we abandon ourselves upon the great sea of God's sovereignty? Our trails tell our stories. Oh, friend, come with me as we pursue Him - the greatest treasure in all the world. Let’s run hard and true as we run His trails into eternity.

And We are Left Without Words

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 22:01:36 PDT

Sometimes in the course of our daily wanderings we stumble onto unexpected. Sometimes the radical, extravagant glories of the Lord just push out into our lives and shove other lesser things aside, and our very hearts tremble at His mercies to us in these startling times. We can have these illuminating moments in our hearts and minds, but I love it especially when it happens in His creation, in His physical world when He shakes us up with our eyes and we see extraordinary things. It was that way for me on Saturday as I laid down a 25K run in the Parque Natural Y Reserva Ecologica Costanera. After discovering the entry gate a few days before, I was fixed on getting a good run in among trees and brush instead of buildings and narrow streets. So there I was, a little after 8am in the morning ready to go. The park reserve maps posted on the signs gave me a feel for the layout of the place, and that was all I needed to slog on down the trail.

This park reserve is a vast, natural haven in the middle of a bustling Buenos Aires. It is a peaceful spot amid the rush of daily life and pressures. And so I plodded along soaking in the peaceful atmosphere, the smell of nature, the sound of water and birds, the trees and wild brush to my right and the vast waters of the Río de la Plata to my left. On my earlier trips to this city, I was cautioned not to proceed into this area of the city. But I realize now that those cautions apply after dark. During daylight hours, this park is a beautiful place to enjoy a special piece of God’s world. As I was running along I suddenly spotted a familiar sight – an agate! I bent down and kicked it out of the dirt. It was about 2 by 1.5 by .5 inches in size. Gosh, I thought, that’s cool! Well, I pocketed this little treasure as a souvenir and continued on my way. It wasn’t long before I was bending over again, and again, and again. Soon I realized that I could not pick up every agate that I saw, there were just too many. They were everywhere. This is so like God and His glories. Once our eyes are opened, we see His workings in everything, we see his glories abounding; we cannot possibility pick up every glory that He has left along our way. His wonders are too many for us. He overwhelms us with His manifold greatness and intricate beauties, and we are left without words; His glories scattered everywhere at our feet.

Amid these casual glories at my feet I ran for 3:31 hours and covered 15.42 miles (.08 short of 25K) for a not-so-blazing pace of 13.43 minutes per mile. To be honest, I was going along at a markedly easy pace knowing that I was going a little long for my current conditioning. I moved along easy for the joy of it. I’m not sure on the temperature, but it is winter in Argentina and it felt like the low 60s F. The sky was partly cloudy with an occasional misting and then a little sun. I have included pictures of the park, views and sights to give you some idea of God’s greatness. On these trails we run, we would miss so much of the beauty and wonder if we hurried; if we rushed and just squeezed it into our crammed calendars. It is a good thing to savor a place, to take our time and run at an easy pace, to see the stones at our feet. We need enough time to see God and His wonders as they display in a never-ending visual before us. Next time you’re out on the trails glance down and see if there are agates scattered at your feet; gems along the way to remind you of His glories and His wonder in world. Until then, run hard and true. Run for His glory. You may find that you are running in His glories, dancing along on a sea of beautiful things.

The 10K Run and Long-Haul Truckers

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 19:16:26 PDT

It was late morning yesterday about 11:20am in Buenos Aires, and I was determined to go for a run. I had made my way through some administrative junk for work and now my schedule was wide open. I thought to make it an easy 10K (6.2 mile) run. A casual pace in a beautiful city seemed like a nice way to get back my running legs. I had been traveling hard and not running for over a week, and was not interested in developing another over-use injury. I wanted to run, not think about running. I pulled my gear together, stepped out from my hotel, and off I went along the narrow street of Moreno down the hill toward the Atlantic Ocean. I knew generally where I was going. I thought I’d head for the Puerto Madero, a large revitalized walking plaza along the old shipping docks where I had run on previous trips. And from there perhaps identify where I might go in the next several days for longer runs. After some dashing and careful stepping along the sidewalks and numerous small intersections, I was near the docks in less than a mile, and began to enjoy the atmosphere of the day. I had an idea how my run would go today, and this was beginning just as I planned. I could feel the excitement and could feel my legs and body adapting nicely to the pace. This would be a good run.

When I asked my students about places to run, they suggested either the Parque Palermo (“like Central Park”, they said) or the Parque Natural Y Reserva Ecologica Costanera (“you are staying right down there by the reserve… you should run there”). I found an entrance for the Reserva Ecologica, but it looked like a service entrance. Then I noticed a broad plaza running along a natural marshy area, so I followed it hoping things would make sense. After some distance I found the main entrance to the reserve, but it was nearly time for me to head back to the hotel. I took note of visual references so that I could come back in a day or so for a long run. Shortly after heading back I discovered a grassy boulevard with a single track that obviously was a runners trail. I saw a runner just getting out of his car and heading over, and I passed a few other runners. It seemed that this grassy section was paralleling the original plaza that I had run along. Nice. This dirt path was kinder to my legs than the hard tiles of the plaza, and I decided to follow this as far as I could until I needed to turn and head back up the hill.

The trails that God maps for us are not usually what we have mapped for ourselves. I was gleefully dashing along my grassy boulevard when suddenly I found myself in a sea of long-haul trucks and truckers. It seems that I had wandered into an area where they queue up and park waiting their turn to be filled or emptied. The truckers looked at me curiously. They seemed nice enough, but I was definitely in the wrong place. Well, I just kept plodding along and shifted my enthusiastic pace to the “this is going to take a while” pace. And I kept looking for where I had missed my turn. After about 4 miles of running, I found my mistake. Thankfully, at that point, I headed in the clear, unequivocal direction of my hotel up the hill. Surprisingly, the final quarter mile or so I was blessed with a rush of energy and was able to finish very strong – and without injury. My planned 10K had expanded to an almost 17K (10.46 mile) and had taken me 2:03 hours. This trail had 2362 ascending and 2071 descending, which was mostly the hill to and from the water.

We all have our plans, and we should. God expects us to plan, to count the cost, to use our abilities to make wise decisions. But in the end, He decides. In the end, He remains our Sovereign Lord, and we would have it no other way. We serve Him in our wholeness, in the completeness of our being we apply our minds and hearts to serve Him. But He orders our steps. David said, "The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in his way..." [Psalm 37:23] So, it looks like we have a role in this – to delight in His way! I need to remember this the next time I find myself lost in a sea of long-haul truckers, or some other unexpected twist in my trails. I need to remember His faithfulness to me, not focus on my circumstance, and delight in Him and His way.

“In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.” [1 John 4:9-11 ESV]

God has our trails in His hands. Our job is to run. Friend, we are running His trails. I want to be found in Him. Run with me today. Run hard and run true, and not be satisfied with lesser things. Let us seek the far country and the love of God. His trails are sure and His ways are perfect. He is altogether our delight. So now, again, run hard and true.

To Watch and Wait

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 13:18:26 PDT

Upon my return home from India, my daughter dangled an easy run in front of me. “I’m going for a run. You wanna come?” At first I hesitated, but then I thought of Birch Island Park, a gentle trail run and an opportunity to share with her this recent running pleasure. She was more than ready, so off we went. Into the woods we ran, covering 2.6 miles in 33 minutes; a tease of a run, just enjoying the glory of the woodland. I’d been thinking how fun it would be to share these trails with her, and now we were doing it. We skirted the retreat center and made our way to the woods beyond the tracks. Down the trail a bit, we climbed the hill to the highest point, breathed in a broad and distant perspective, ran along the western ridge dropping to the lowest point, climbed again and ducked into the bush along a secondary trail and ran along the eastern ridge overlooking the central trail far below – hidden at this time of year in heavy undergrowth, and made the rapid descent to the central trail. We got a rich taste of the special place that these trails can be to a ready heart; just enough to make us hungry for more and excite us to return another day. Sometimes the Lord paints a vivid picture in our hearts that we can carry with us like a photograph of someone we love with much passion; a picture vivid and rich enough to sustain us in bleaker times, to carry us through dark and lonely hours. Yes, I’m sure that we will be back. I have the picture in my heart, the color is overwhelming.

I left in a day or so for Peru, and any thoughts of future runs in Birch Island Park would have to wait. The memory I will keep is secure. I would find that many things would have to wait. On my arrival into Lima, Peru and my hotel, I went for a walk in the remaining afternoon light. The air was clear with a steady breeze, and the Pacific Ocean lay broad and magnificent beneath the afternoon sun, waves crashing in the distance. I was standing atop a plaza that overlooked a beach and cliffs and the rhythm of the surf. The view was stunning beyond my words. I was inspired with the seeing, but I was tired from my trip and decided not to run that day. I was there to teach for three days beginning the next morning and wanted to start out fresh.

I went down to breakfast the first morning and sat looking out the windows at the continuing view of God’s extravagance – the vast Pacific, the wild sky above the surf as it pounded, as it has pounded for all time, in steady wave on wave of praise and glory to its maker. I was looking out over the plaza below where I had been standing the previous afternoon. It was first light. And, look, runners! There were many, many runners going this way and that along the walk overlooking the ocean. The views would be breathtaking from that walkway, yet I would not have attempted a predawn run in an unknown city. So there were runners, but they were starting about the time I had to eat and run to my assignment. Oh well. Maybe tonight, I thought. But when I returned that night from work, night was falling fast. OK, no running along the ocean tonight either. I resigned myself to watching the other runners and waiting for another time and place. Sometimes we are left to wait. But I will keep Lima, Peru as it is for me – a beautiful picture in my heart. For the record, it was a magnificent city. If I have the opportunity to return, I’ll try and plan time for adventure and running, and I hear they have awesome trails too. Maybe my wife could come along and we won’t have to wait, but we will run and laugh and enjoy. And the picture in my heart will grow more intense and deep with time.

We need to hold onto things in our hearts to keep us true. And if you are running the trails with me, then you know this is important. We need to focus on our goal. For me, I’ve been writing lately about the far country, setting my eyes on the distant object of my life’s sojourn. I must set my heart on my Lord and His kingdom. After all of the trails and journeys, this is the object of my life. After all of the miles and struggles, this is the purpose and the overwhelming passion of my soul – to be with Jesus forever; to be found in Him. As Paul says,

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith - that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. [Phillipians 3:7-11]

As we run these trails together we share each others burdens and joys. For me, I share a few pictures today of beautiful places and stories of waiting. But these are small things in the context of eternity and the Kingdom of God. These are small things as we make our way along together today. Like so many of the trails we run, we face the challenges for the joy that is set before us.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. [Hebrews 12:1-2]

Let’s run full-hearted with the eyes of our souls fixed on the joy that is set before us. Run on, my friend. Run hard and true. I will look for you down the trail.

Just Glimpse the Far Country

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 07:51:38 PDT

This three week passage through India has become a picture of the passage my days, of our days. It is a trail of the heart. Our steps weaving a pattern in the dust of each passing hour; this signature telling our narrative of a Godward life or a life set on lesser gods. And now I am heading home. I feel the longing, an almost tangible pull of feeling toward home. It is like that with heaven, too. A few days ago I wrote in my journal:

Lord, my body and emotions seem great weights to me this morning. But I choose to look beyond my frail limitations and the boundaries set in flesh and the world. My Lord has given me eyes to gaze on the far hills and sing to my Lord out of my aching heart. It is His glory that I see afar, He is my hope and all. These weights are lost amid His wonders and I find renewed strength to the day. Oh soul, rise up and take the trail, walk this Calvary road today with a heart set on heaven and home.

And then today I wrote:

On the trail today what wonders will abound? What treasures of my far country will I see? What dreams of God will arrest my heart and drive me to utter holy prayers and mount the watchtower of intercession. It begins by heading down the trail. Yes, running hard and true; the heart set to love God; heading down the trail pursuing God. Along the way I will discover things to catch the radiance of His name or the profound wonder of His glory.

This calling of the far country, this song on the wind as our hearts pick up the melodies of heaven – this is what calls us to the trails we run. Whether we set out today to follow a forest path and measure out our steps in hours and miles, or whether our steps involve a thousand small words and uncounted quiet smiles to encourage others on the way, these are most certainly trails traced out by the finger of God. As our trail gives challenge, let us give heart; as our way clouds with doubt and despair, may we choose to run on knowing these times and places and great adventures are to His purpose and glory. This divine root should cause each of us to rise up full to the day, to run on in spite of some passing doubt or despair. Such little things do pass away and we are left to gaze upon the unfailing provisions of God, the faithfulness of the Lord, the one who does not pass away but is forever Lord of All.

At times this does not come easy to me. Some days are teeming with a thousand distractions or come at me with an overwhelming sense of darkness and gloom. Some days I feel the ache of body or heart, and can’t seem to rise above the weight of it. I feel almost helpless. There were days like this during my few weeks in India. At such times I speak to myself, “Put the trail shoes on!” I say, “Read your Bible and journal!” I say, “Henry, run hard and true. That is all, just run!” And then I just do it. I set aside the indictments of the enemy, the doubts in mind and fury of heart; and I let the simple faithfulness of God take hold of my way. I run His trail along the road, through a forest, or in my heart. And so, recently, this was a passage through India.

Throughout the remaining trip I kept a fairly regular schedule of workouts in hotels resulting in one interrupted 5K (Fr 26 June) when the power failed in the machine and two completed 5K treadmill runs (Sa 27 June -32:58, Su 28 June -35:17) along with a compliment of other cross-training activities. The workouts provided a healthy recharge to the exhaustion of teaching and travel.

But my trail through India involved far more than dirt trails or treadmills. My trail was made of small exchanges and conversations, shared meals, and shared life stories, little words of hope spoken, light in dark places. I do not know the fullness of these things, and I cannot grasp the impact. It is too big for me. But in every place I was reminded of the ancient Christian, Francis of Assisi who said, “Preach the Gospel every day; if (absolutely) necessary, use words.” Yes, we preach the Gospel every day in our smiles and prayers and serving. And words from time-to-time are spoken, but this is not the essential thing. It is the trail of our hearts. For me, the trail through India was like a divine string of pearls, of heavenly encounters with other travelers along the way, ones He had chosen. And for me – well, I had the joy of running the trail, of being there as a light-bearer, of listening to the tales and burdens that others told, and whispering prayers along the way; a way – though difficult and hard – surely adorned with the glory of Christ and a fragrance of redemption. Whether our passage takes us through India or the neighborhood, we are tellers of the tale that God has given us, light-bearers in dark places, runners and trail-seekers and lovers with hearts fixed on heaven. Yes, I’ll hit the dirt trails again very soon, and I’m dizzy with the expectation. But the trails of the heart – these are the things of heaven. Oh, friend, come along. I hope to see you down the trail as we set our hearts to run hard and true. From this point, if we look with firm expectation, we can just glimpse the far country. Oh, friend, run on!

Trembling on the Rim of Eternity

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 05:16:41 PDT

Sometimes our trails are made of dirt and rocks and brush and roots, and cause our hearts to leap skyward in praise and worship. And sometimes our trails are woven through a string of days and through the hearts and lives of others, and leave our spirits trembling on the rim of eternity as we watch Him touch those lives through our frail words. The trails that God lays are trails laden with the fragrance of His glory, and they lead indelibly into His purposes – far above the ways of men and the pursuits of this earth. Along the trails that God prepares we walk and run into the divine unknown; a place where the Lord rules in sovereign wonder. We plan our days, yet in the end it is the Lord over it all. In this place of wonders I find continued solace in His faithfulness above the passing struggles of each day.

So when I was sidelined in early June with an injury, and it was necessary to stop running for at least two weeks, I began to wonder what God was planning along this trail of mine. A week at home followed by three weeks of aggressive business travel. My injury and work meant that my participation in Grandma’s Marathon was impossible; and this was a big disappointment. But God was just watching out for me. If I would have been in town, it is likely I would have run anyway – regardless of the injury. So He sent me far away from my scheduled marathon. God is so good to me. However, my daughter and a close friend were running, and I decided to plug into their fervor. On Saturday the 20th I was hovering over my laptop in Kolkata, India “watching” my two runners’ progress along the marathon route on Grandma’s website. The hours and minutes and miles clicked past. And then they both completed their races and have each their own unique story of God’s faithfulness. So, although I was injured and half a planet away, I had the extreme pleasure of seeing two people I care deeply about finish the marathon. I am told that they began their triumphant celebration near the finish line standing in the cold waters of Lake Superior drinking cold beers. Nice. Congratulations to Abbey and Kari – you both rock! I was positively giddy with joy as each completed their runs. In fact, I was so happy that I wept. A lot.

But then there was India and the trail it has provided me. Traveling in India for three weeks in three cities, it is enough to maintain a steady workout schedule along the way, running or not. Holding to my self-imposed running restriction, I had maintained a steady diet of light workouts. So, finally after a couple of weeks, two days ago I tried an easy-paced 5K on a treadmill along with a few slices of cross-training. The 5K took 41:56 minutes. OK, very easy-paced. Most important, I had no swelling or discomfort. Yesterday I gave my body a rest, and today I ran another treadmill 5K, completing it in 30:40 minutes. Along with some other cross-training, everything seems to be holding together nicely.

But this trail is more than working and hotel gyms. In fact, this trip has been a stream of interactions for Jesus Christ. It has been mosaic of prayers and conversations and the glorious beauty of His life lived out in the small steps of each day. Oh, I’ve had to ease into my running, but this has not diminished the wonder of the trail. I’ve found that even if I can’t hit the streets or rock down some woodland trail, there is still the wonder of the human soul, the breadth and depth of God’s love as He spans cultures and reaches down deep into individual hearts with a quickening touch. He makes all things new. The weariness of the days evaporate in the beauty of someone’s eyes or the hopeless feelings that gradually cloud the night hours dissolve in the laughter and excitement of colleagues. He is behind every stroke of time and every step we take. Today as each of us trembles on the rim of eternity, we run a trail that He has made and He has purposed. Oh, run with me, run hard and run true. I’ll see you down the trail a ways. This is a place of trembling.

A Time to Heal

thepoetruns@gmail.com (Henry Lewis) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 00:17:54 PDT

A few days after returning from China I found pure, unrestrained delight running through the forest at Birch Island Park. My favorite hills and trails bathed in the early morning light, and I - just chasing a thought and whispering a prayer on the wind. It was Monday, June 1 at half past 6 in the morning with clear skies, a light northerly breeze a 9 mph and 51F. Perfect. I laid down 6.97 easy miles in 1:39 hours with 1490 ascending and 1520 descending. It was good to be on trails that felt like old friends to me. The next day I found myself in Boulder, Colorado, and at 4:27 in the afternoon I decided that my day would not be complete without a 5 miler on the Boulder Flat Irons, a taste of the foothills right in and among Boulder itself. I was taking my time and just savoring the extreme beauty of the trails. It took me 1:29 hours with 1127 ascending and 1119 descending. I was a little surprised with the modest ups and downs, but then I considered that the ascending largely comes as one continuous climb and the descending as one continuous dash toward earth. In a word, a RUSH.

Here is where things get more interesting. The next day my left knee was swollen along the sides and was tender to the touch. My own analysis was that two weeks running on hard, flat pavement in China and my radical steps run on the Great Wall – pushing through regardless of knee discomforts - followed in quick succession by my Birch Island hill workout and next day by a wild run on the Flat Irons had just been too much, too fast for my 58-year-old frame. Regardless of my love of running, I figured I better back off for a week or two. It was time to heal. For whatever reasons, God was pulling me over and having me slow down just a bit. So, it would be a season of reflection and waiting on Him. When God changes our plans, there is never a downside; His ways are always perfect.

“This God - his way is perfect; the word of the Lord proves true; he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him.” [2 Samuel 22:31, Psalm 18:30]

His way is blameless; there is no error or wrong or misstep. Perfect. Now, I just needed to remain content to wait on God. What adventures of the heart did He have planned for me? What avenues for His glory and my joy? I guess I would just have to wait and see. Then I began to think of India.