Information vs. Knowledge

“Information is not knowledge.” –Albert Einstein

Growing up in a Christian household, I felt as if I had plenty of “information.”

I knew all the right answers about who God is and about the stories of the bible. I could reply properly to questioning and I was confident in what the “Christian response” ought to be. My own personal answers, though, seemed at times to be a bit different. I had all the right information, but it hadn't yet converted to knowledge, to belief. I could give you the proper answers, but I hadn't internally begun to believe them.

As I grew into young adulthood- a time in life of crossroads and decisions- I experienced God’s guidance to be one of the most-stressed traits by family, friends, and pastors.

“You don’t know where you want to go to school? Don’t you worry, God will guide you.” 

“You’re not sure what you want to study? I’m sure God will guide your decision.” 

Most recently, what I've heard is this:

“You don’t know what you want to do with your life after you graduate? That’s ok, God will guide you.”

Though each time I have recognized these responses to be the proper Christian answer, I've never felt any guidance from God in my decisions. Instead I've felt lost, alone, and afraid that without help I’ll always make the wrong choice.

At this point in time, what to do with life after graduation seems to be the most eminent decision in my life- it is the climax of choices, the path that will pave the way for the rest of my days. Maybe it only seems this way because I’m currently trying to make it, but it is nevertheless intimidating. I have a world of opportunities in front me and no idea how to pick a single one.

For months and months my indecision about life post-graduation not only created anxiety, but also intense pressure as I realized my choice affected the people around me: my family, friends, and boyfriend.

My thoughts terrorized me daily saying, “Your choice affects everyone else who cares about you, too, so make the right one.”

Not exactly encouraging, right?

Sometimes I would become so paralyzed by fear that I would sob uncontrollably, pleading with God for guidance, telling him I was too afraid to move. Sadly, I eventually became resentful in these moments because I felt ignored; I never heard any answers from the Lord and I felt as lost as I did before I went to him in prayer.  Sometimes I even felt worse.

One morning I became even more discouraged than usual, and I decided to turn to the Word. Maybe God wouldn't answer me through prayer, but perhaps I could find answers and comfort in the words of the bible. As God always does, he met me where I was and gave me answers, though they weren't the ones for which I originally began searching. This is what I found:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” Proverbs 16:9

I read these and realized I had a gap in my understanding of what it meant to be guided by God. I would pray in times of uncertainty and say, “Lord I pray you guide me in this decision,” but what I was really saying was, “Lord, tell me what to choose and I’ll choose it.”

I didn't want guidance, I wanted answers.

I wasn't truly believing in the power of God! Somehow I thought that if I didn't know exactly where I was going then I’d mess it up. I didn't believe God’s guidance could overpower my obliviousness to the end result of his plan. I may have wanted to be in line with God’s will, but I hadn't put my trust in it- I was convinced that I had to know it and understand it to assure that I followed through with it.

If I truly believed in the wisdom and power of the Lord, wouldn't my willing heart be enough to assure me that God will guide me?

I think back to the simple words Jesus spoke to acquire his disciples: “Follow me.” There were no specifications or details, but merely an invitation to follow him. In fact, the lack of complexity in these interactions has always struck me.

“As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew…’Come, follow me,’ Jesus said, ‘and I will send you out to fish for people.’ At once they left their nets and followed him. Going on from there he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John…Jesus called them and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.” Matthew 4:18-22

“As Jesus went on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector’s booth. “Follow me,” he told him, and Matthew got up and followed him.” Matthew 9:9

These men didn't need any explanations from Jesus, but solely the security that came with being led by the Lord. Likewise, Jesus didn't need to provide the disciples with a detailed map of their journey- he merely needed a willing heart.

Decisions may still be intimidating and crossroads frightening, but I too can have the same security as the disciples did, knowing that I am being purposefully guided by God. Though sometimes I may not see clearly where I am being led, I am called to live by faith and not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7). If I am going to trust anyone wholly with my steps, better the Lord than myself.

God can guide all those who are lost; all he needs is a willing heart.   

Finding Perspective in the Desert

“You see, [Wormwood] it is so hard for these creatures to persevere. The routine of adversity, the gradual decay of youthful loves and youthful hopes, the quiet despair of ever overcoming the chronic temptations with which we have again and again defeated them, the drabness which we create in their lives and the inarticulate resentment with which we teach them to respond to it- all this provides admirable opportunities of wearing out a soul by attrition.” –The Screwtape Letters

I don’t know about you, but I've certainly had the company of this quiet despair- wondering if I will ever escape the constant entrapment I feel I am in. Perseverance, as stated, is indeed quite difficult, especially when the end seems unreachable. I have found that sometimes the courage to continue is discovered in places you might never expect, like the desert.

... ... ... ... ...

This past summer was the first time I had ever been to a real desert (as opposed to the fake ones, of course).

Now when I say real, I mean real. My mom and I took a trip to California in July, and we decided to spend an afternoon in Death Valley. For those of you who haven’t been crazy enough to take a detour to the hottest placed in the country in the hottest month of the year, this gives you an idea of what it looked like:

Not only was it an astonishing view of nature so unfamiliar to our eyes, but my mom and I were in awe of the solitude the valley offered. The silence seemed to echo, as the familiar sounds of birds chirping and wind blowing were absent from this place. Everywhere we looked the landscape appeared to go on for miles; we were unable to even fathom how far it truly went.

At one point in the distance, we spotted a series of sand dunes. Somehow our communication lines got crossed (I thought she wanted to go and she thought I wanted to go) and we headed out into the desert to try and reach the dunes. I’m not sure if either of us actually thought we would arrive there, but I suppose we were both in it for the other person, and so we would see how close we could get.

Embracing the desert with no shade, no wind, and the sun beating directly on our backs, we marched through the heat towards the treasured dunes. Though we quickly grew fatigued in the grueling 110-degree weather, we were both determined to continue on until the other resolved to stop. Now, I can’t guess what my mom must have been thinking, but after about 20 minutes I was working strategically in my mind how I could hint at the fact that I was ready to turn around.

We had walked almost three miles out into the desert, and it was unbelievable how the dunes continually looked the same. They in no way appeared any bigger than when we had started and the mountainous landscape before us still resembled a distant backdrop. After awhile, even the ground we walked on looked the same. If we looked behind us it seemed as if we had traveled for miles, but if we looked before us it seemed we hadn't even begun.

It was so discouraging! I kept putting one foot in front of the other, moving myself forward on auto-pilot, and yet each time I looked ahead I was convinced I hadn't gotten any closer. Walking senselessly in the desert, I began questioning our journey. How long would it be until we could actually see a difference in the distance between us and the dunes? Should I just keep walking if I don’t feel like I’m even going anywhere? I felt like I was in the movie Holes with Shia LaBeouf, and I could totally understand why a poisonous lizard that could kill with one bite could seem welcoming.

Ok, maybe it wasn't that bad, but it certainly wasn't pleasant!

It was shocking how much willpower, strength, and perseverance we seemed to exert, only to find we hadn't actually gotten any closer to the end.

There isn't a whole lot to do in the desert, so as we walked I started thinking (naturally. The last time I was in a desert-like area I compared myself to a cactus, remember?). I thought, “This is how I feel oftentimes. In my trials, struggles, and temptations, I feel as if I work and push and move and at the end of the day I haven’t actually gone anywhere. I’m no closer to healing or victory than I was when I began.”

In life I feel as I did in the middle of Death Valley. I continued to walk aimlessly down the path I imagined I ought to take, but as the end never seemed to move any closer, I constantly questioned if I should continue.

“If I’m not even making any progress, why bother putting in all this effort?”

In the middle of the desert, though, I realized the truth is that I have actually gained some ground. Even though the dunes still looked as far as they did when we began, we legitimately did cover some distance (I especially realized this was true when we had to cover it again on the way back to our car). It was discouraging in the midst of the desert because it felt as if we had put in all the effort for nothing, yet on the way of return we realized how far we had actually gone.

Although I try my hardest not to live in the past, I found it so valuable in that moment. Your eyes and mind will play tricks on you, I learned, and sometimes you need the past to remind you that you have in reality moved.

When the road you’re walking is a long one, the destination can seem an unchanging and never-ending distance away. In fact, sometimes it may be so far away you can’t even fathom what it will be like once you arrive. Though despite what your eyes may see, you can walk confidently and know you are indeed progressing toward the goal.

I don’t plan on irrationally walking through another desert anytime soon, but I do continue to reflect on its lesson as I walk through my deserts at home- in the valleys of death in my life that seem to have no end. I remember that sometimes all it takes it a short glance behind me, only long enough to remember where I began, to assure me that I have been moving. 

A Rut Worth Noting

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1

I've been in somewhat of a rut these past few months.

Ok, I wouldn't say “somewhat.” It’s been a rut; a deep, painful-to-watch rut. You know, the kind in which anything that would typically decorate your daily life mysteriously vanishes and before you know it you’re living an entirely different lifestyle, only to realize you aren't actually living at all.

Sadly, that’s been me.

I wasn't sure how it began; I only knew that I was in too deep for my own good. I had stopped running. I stopped reading and writing. I stopped enjoying the company of others. I stopped dancing- not professionally, but sometimes I dance to a great beat simply to remind myself how fun it is to be alive. Really, I felt like I had stopped living.

It had been months since I felt deep excitement, joy, or any extent of motivation. I felt purposeless and alone, as though I’d been idling through the mere motions of life. As a result of my robotic state, my relationship with God became shaky. It wasn't that I was angry, but that I lacked any desire or inclination to pray to Him, read of Him, or reflect on Him. The times I did try I felt empty and dissatisfied, so eventually I stopped.

I constantly questioned what was happening, why I was in this place, and what I had done to get myself there. I didn't know how to get out of this rut I was in, nor did I feel that I would have the energy to try if I were to find a way.

One morning as I sat alone pondering the possibility of escape, I remembered a line of song lyrics I had always loved. “Lord, You are who You are, no matter where I am.” This song about praising God through the storms of life, I assumed, had always been about the big storms: a loved one passing away, encountering health complications, a destroyed marriage, etc. That morning, however, I understood that in this strange storm of lethargy it was true to me, too.

The Lord’s character is unwavering, despite our fickle emotions.

I didn't feel any differently but I knew this to be true, so I started trying again. I began by merely stating words, though no feelings or meaning seemed to be behind them. I would daily repeat to myself certain truths I knew about the Lord, though exclamations that were once of joyful faith were now simply indifferent utterances. I was completely unresponsive to the things I was saying, and my remarks were as simplistic as, “Lord, the bible says you’re faithful. That’s cool.”

Day after day I would recite another characteristic I had come to know about the Lord, but the emotions remained buried. Despite my lack of feeling, my words started to become more honest and personal. “Lord, you are indeed faithful, and I have experienced it in my life by this, that, and those.” I would thank the Lord for His goodness, yet only wish that I would someday again feel it.

I continue still today the process of working through this emotional numbness I've had in my life, but in doing so I have experienced the truth of those lyrics. I have found that it can be difficult to wholeheartedly believe the truth about God (or any person, really) until you have personally experienced it in your life, and through this bleak season I was given the opportunity to see more truth revealed. Though stuck in what felt to be the blandest season of my life, I was able to encounter the goodness of the Lord in a colorful way.  I realized that though a season of idleness doesn't hold much feeling of purpose, progress, or joy, it does hold opportunities for more of God’s character to unfold.

It became apparent to me that my feelings or circumstances can never dictate the truth about who God is. It’s a hard thing to explain, this “knowledge despite feelings” concept, but somehow the certainty and character of the Lord overpowered my indifference.

Many people say it, and even I have said it before, but I believe now even deeper that God is constant. I believe that God is holy, present, comforting, deliberate, and spiritually satisfying- even in seasons wherein I feel abandoned, alone, purposeless, and empty.

God is God. Period. What an amazing truth that is.

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today, yes, even forever.” Hebrews 13:8

The Cycle of a Cactus

This past week I took a trip (a fantastic trip) to the beautiful city of San Diego. My experience there was different than what I expected, yet it was even better than what I wanted. I learned a lot while I was there- a lot about myself, about history, about my life, and about God.

I learned that San Diego is amazing. I learned that Juan Cabrillo, the first Spanish settler to land in San Diego, set sail on the day of my birthday, 1542. I learned how to disc golf, and that the California sun is much harsher than what shines in Michigan (I may or may not have looked similar to a lobster at one point).

I learned that as I travel, it’s not so much the places, but the God who created them that I fall more in love with.

I could actually dedicate an entire blog post to what I learned and experienced during my time in California (and perhaps I will). However, there was something else that specifically caught my eye; the reason for this writing.

One morning I went to Cabrillo, beautiful cliffs on which the Spanish settler first landed, to soak up some sights, history, and beauty. On these cliffs, there was a small section in which a specific type of cacti grew. It was explained to me that these cacti followed a specific cycle of life in always the same time period. This cactus would grow tall for one whole year. Once it reached its peak, the cactus would bloom a beautiful flower. Days later, though not many, the flower would quickly die, the seeds would fall to the ground, and the new cactus would begin again.

Fascinating, right? What’s even more is that as I admired these plants in front of me, I was able to see how fast this process was, as there was a mix of growing, budding, planting, and dying cacti in the same bunch. I could physically see how short of a life span this cactus had, and I could see it in its various forms.

It amazed me how this plant continually went through the same, seemingly pointless cycle, though the uniqueness of it exposed to me once again the creativity of my God.

But could you imagine?! To expound all of your energy for an entire year to bloom for such a short period of time and then die shortly after?

As I pondered the life of the cactus, I wondered, “Maybe this is my life, too.”

Certainly not what it’s supposed to be, but instead what I've made it to be. I expound all of my energy to achieve certain goals- to reach success, to be skinny, to gain wealth- yet will I not quickly pass as well?

“What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14

I spend all of my energy on these “goals” I want to reach, but for what purpose? To what end? Because depending on what I am striving for, I could not even bloom! Yet this cycle just goes on and on: expounding, short reward, death, expounding, short reward, death. What a terribly miserable cycle.

“There was a man all alone … there was no end to his toil, yet his eyes were not content with his wealth. “For whom am I toiling,” he asked, “and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?” This too is meaningless- a miserable business.” Ecclesiastes 4:8

It was so sad to me, this cactus. I felt a pang of sorrow for this plant that spent the majority of its existence either striving or dying. It seemed so purposeless to me to spend all that time growing for such a short period of bloom, though somehow I found it easier to see this in the cactus than in myself.

That’s what nature does to me, I guess. It puts crazy ideas in my head and makes me reflect on life. You put me in a desert and I start comparing myself to plants.

That day, I learned I was living like this cactus- wasting my life working toward a short moment of potential reward. Now don’t get me wrong, for the cactus that’s perfectly fine! I don’t exactly know why God would create such a plant, though it fascinates me that he did.

Here’s what I am saying: I wasn't made to live like a cactus.

I was not made to spend my life striving for a moment of fleeting beauty, and yet so much like the cactus, I do. Oh, but what a waste! There is so much life to live and I miss it because I’m too focused on using my time, energy, and thoughts in this manner.

We all have our “moments of bloom” that we strive for, though they can vary in appearance and form. But let me tell you, this is not the purpose God had in mind for us! No, we were created for so much more- for life.

In Isaiah 43:7, we see that God created us for his glory, and again in Colossians 1:16 that we were made through him and for him. Ephesians 2:10 says that we were created in Christ to do good works, and Matthew 5:16 tells us to let our light shine so others may see these good works and give glory to God.

While it can appear that we were made solely to be “used” by God, Jonathan Edwards, a Christian preacher and theologian from the 18^th century, said it this way:

“God’s purpose for my life is that I have a passion for God’s glory and that I have a passion for my joy in that glory, and that these two are one passion.”

Further explaining this point, John Piper (a preacher and famous author) wrote, “It has become clearer to me that God being glorified and God being enjoyed are not separate categories … enjoying God supremely is one way to glorify him. Enjoying God makes him look supremely valuable. We were made to see and savor God- and savoring him, to be supremely satisfied, and thus spread in all the world the worth of his presence.”

So as you can see, we were made for a much greater and more significant purpose than to use all of our energy and time striving for the single “moment of bloom” we desire. Instead, our lives find deeper meaning when we use them as they were meant to be- glorifying, enjoying, and sharing the greatness of our God.  

Nutritiously Full

Lately I've been on what you could call a “health food kick.” I spend much of my time reading nutritional books, discovering new recipes, learning details about vitamins and minerals, and even watching food documentaries. It’s a bit of a health food craze.

When I first started becoming deeply interested in this topic, I had a difficult time deciding what I wanted to eat. I learned quickly that the meals I’d been eating weren't exactly nutritious, but I wasn't learning fast enough which meals were nutritious. This left me clueless around appropriate meal times as to which foods I should choose to eat. (To be honest, it was actually quite stressful. I don’t recommend becoming nutritionally aware in this way).  

As time went on, I discovered a more efficient and less stressful way to put my new-found knowledge of dietetics to use. Rather than omit from my diet every food that was lacking in nutritional value, I instead began to incorporate slowly foods that are nutritionally valuable and beneficial. As I continued to add the healthful foods into my diet, other foods began to gradually disappear from my fridge, pantry, and shopping list.  

It then became about making nutritionally sound decisions rather than attempting to avoid making unhealthy ones, and somehow that is less stressful. Making a positive decision can be empowering, but trying to avoid a negative decision can be tiring, distressing, and nerve-wracking.

Ultimately, it was about adding what I found to be beneficial and allowing what was unprofitable to be pushed out.

Makes sense, huh? Though I attained this concept through the challenge of stocking my pantry with nutritious “superfoods,” I have learned that it can be valuable in various different aspects of my life.

Many times Christians may ask, “What exactly can we do?” when questioning where the lines of the “Christian dos-and-don’ts” are drawn. They want to know exactly where the line is so they may push it as far as it can possibly go, enabling them to sacrifice and compromise as little of life as possible.

Though I have before asked this question myself, I find it to be unnecessary and deeply counterproductive.

The way to live a Christian life is not to ask, “How far can I push it? How far can I go before it becomes sinful?” Though such deserves a complex answer, I simply believe instead you should focus on incorporating the things you know are good into your life, and allow the bad to be pushed out.

 “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:31

Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

Hypothetically if you were doing everything for the glory of God, there would be no need to ask how much you could compromise his commandments. You wouldn't need to! Your life would be filled with glorifying moments, acts and words, leaving no room for the sinful ones.

Isn't this what we should strive for? Shouldn't we spend our time incorporating good acts into our lives and contemplating how we can live, speak, and work for his glory? Shouldn't our sights be fastened on what we can do for God rather than what we can’t do for ourselves?

If we are solely focused on living for God, we won’t have time to examine how we can live for ourselves as we push God’s boundaries and test his mercy.

Quite frankly, it doesn't matter how slightly or strongly we push a boundary, because any kind of compromise is less than glorifying to God. There is simply no point in asking, “How can I technically follow this but still get around it?” because in strategizing potential loopholes you are not glorifying God, which means you’re already a step behind what you ought to be doing.

So begin filling your pantry of life with righteous and glorifying ways, and gradually those that are unprofitable will be forced out. After all, God gives us a finite amount of minutes each day; we can only fit a certain amount of life into that time. Make it good life. 

Just as I fill my pantry more each day with nutritious (and delicious) foods, I plan to work at filling my heart with God in the same way: forcing out the bad by filling it fully with the good.  

“No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit … A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart.” Luke 6:43,45

Describing the Indescribable

“Always go with your passions. Never ask yourself if it’s realistic or not.”

Passions, to me, are interestingly complex. Many times the reasons for a passion cannot be described or discerned by the one who holds it, and most often are only fully understood by those who share it. There is an unspoken understanding, an indescribable bond between those who share a deep passion. Those outside of this typically can’t quite grasp the level of awe and fascination.

I believe this is part of what makes a passion so beautiful, however: the fact that it can’t truly be described with words, but can only be felt with the heart. 

Sometimes we can’t explain why a certain love is so strong- it just is.

Out of the many passions I hold in my heart, one of the deepest I have is traveling. I have what I believe to be an inexplainable love to travel to new places. In fact, I could probably talk for days about where I want to go, what I want to see, and which experiences I want to have.

Though I don’t think I could ever thoroughly explain why traveling is so dear to my heart, I have been asked numerous times before to try. Those who don’t understand it want to see what I see, but my simple words could never do justice to the beauty of it.  

One day in the comfort of my favorite park, I wrote in my journal the thoughts and feelings I could grasp about my traveling; I attempted to describe the indescribable. Here is what I found:

“What do I want? What is this, this for which my heart so strongly yearns?

Psalm 19:1-4 ‘The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day by day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words, no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the Earth, their words to the ends of the world.’

This. This is where my heart is: in nature, in creation. When you immerse yourself into the creation of another- whether it be a book, a song, a picture, a planet- you take a step inside their world. You get a peek into their heart and who they are.

Most often the sight I crave is into the heart of God, though I also love the creations of his creations. I can step into the life of another and see the world from their view when I travel. I can ask: What’s important here? What’s valued? What knowledge is common and shared? Where is God here? What is life like here?

I do believe that I hear God differently in different places. I see him differently in different places. I learn more of him and I connect with him uniquely in different places.

I like to go and wonder, “What was this like 50 years ago? 200? 2,000? What was this beauty like before man’s hands? Which parts of God’s creation did we decide to keep? How do God’s other creatures inhabit these places?

You know, God is quite the artist; He has a wonderful creativity. I love to see this in actuality. I love to feel his presence.

 “God, you've been here,” I think.

 Now I know he’s been everywhere, and it doesn’t always take a beautiful landscape to feel his presence, but sometimes in the ordinary and familiar I can forget to listen. I can forget to look and feel.

Besides, if an art museum was holding an exhibit of God’s work, I would take my time admiring each one; each beautiful, intricate, masterfully created piece. So why not do that here, in a land filled with his beautiful creations?

There is so much life and beauty out there; so many things to see, people to meet, and ways of life to understand. I want to expose myself to all of them- maybe to change, maybe to love more where I am, or maybe just to learn.

I will never fully know God until I see him in heaven, but I have the opportunity to see bits of his heart here as I explore the work of his hands. The more I see and learn the more I am in awe of him. Just imagine how much beauty exists to see!

I mean, if God didn't want us to enjoy his creation, he could’ve made it pretty ugly. It could consist solely of a flat, brown landscape. No uniqueness, no colors, no beauty. But he didn't. That leads me to believe that he wants us to enjoy the wonders of his creation and the artistry of his design.

Put quite simply, I want to enjoy this- this remarkable work he has made. Each place holds a piece of his voice and his heart, and experiencing that is what makes me feel alive.”

While my passion for traveling is deeper still than my words can say, I think this begins to describe my heart and my reasons for loving it so strongly. The most amazing part of it all is how I feel God uniquely connect with me within my passions, giving me a companion who needs no explanations of these things to enjoy them with me.  

I’m beginning to learn that I will always have a friend who understands my passions just as I do, and that makes me even more passionate.

“Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” 

Running the Hills of Life

It doesn't take long for people who meet me to discover that I love running. I used to compete when I was in high school, and I enjoyed it so much that I stuck with it and continued to run on my own after I graduated. Though I still managed to stay in good shape, I learned that I very quickly became a set type of runner- I was static.

What do I mean by this? Simply that I was a good runner, but only at a specific pace on a specific incline during specific weather. I no longer trained through the elements, and because of it my performance suffered. I was great if every variable aligned perfectly! Though when I was met by hills, wind, sand or speed, my legs would die so fast it was as if I hadn't run a day in my life.

I couldn't understand it for some time, confused as to why my body wouldn't perform when I was clearly exercising it regularly, but finally I grasped it. How could I expect my running to remain constant through elements in which I hadn't trained? It made sense that my body would want to collapse going up a steep hill, because my muscles hadn't been prepared to overcome it.

Without the hills, the speed, or the weather, I wasn't really a runner- not a good one, anyway. I was someone who could run well at a fixed pace on a flat surface, and would struggle to make it through even two miles under any other circumstances. Though I was a runner at heart, my body argued otherwise.

As a runner, some of my favorite verses in the bible are those that relate faith to a race. They speak something special to me, and they use a wonderful analogy to assist me in understanding how to live the Christian life. It excites me to run regardless, but as I imagine running for Christ I am thrilled.

I am able to interpret and relate to these verses the best, but there has always been an aspect that I never quite got: the concept of trials. I knew the bible clearly stated that we would always face troubles, but I never really understood why.  I get that we’ll always encounter them, but why do we have to?

One morning I found my answer, quite appropriately timed, during my run.

I had never realized that God uses our troubles to grow us, mold us, and stretch us in a way that could never be done through a strictly pleasurable life. I knew that God could use our pains for such, but it never before struck me that sometimes pain prepares us and trains us in a way that comfort and contentment could not.

“For the kind of sorrow God wants us to experience is one that leads us away from sin and results in salvation.” -2 Corinthians 7:10a

God is one who wants us to grow. He wants us to plant our roots deep and care for them attentively so we may prosper. I once read, “God loves you exactly where you are, but He also loves you too much to leave you there.” He loves us as we are, but that doesn't mean he doesn't desire us to grow. He wants our faith to be strengthened. He wants us to flourish so we may be a light for him amidst the trials and temptations of the world.

Just as runners must sometimes allow themselves to run through the elements in order to grow in their strength, God sometimes allows storms in our lives so we may grow in our faith.

The body of a runner is strong, but only as strong as the trails that have been run. One who runs a flat course at a set pace will never have the muscles to sprint, run a hill, withstand weather, or make any adjustments to their performance when necessary. In the same way, though we may be running in our faith every day, God must allow hills or rain in our lives to strengthen our faith in a way we couldn't have otherwise.

Sometimes jogging in and of itself is a big enough challenge for my morning. There are times when I expound almost all of my energy simply putting one foot in front of the other; I think that is perfectly fine! Some days I think it may even be necessary. However, at the end of the day this will never make me a better runner. I will never increase my speed, stamina, or endurance if I fix myself in a comfortable pace on simple terrain. I will only improve when I push myself, and allow myself some challenges.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:2-4

Once we realize that some trials occur to produce in us the quality of endurance that helps us become spiritually mature, we can truly embrace them with joy and conquer them with confidence, all the while rejoicing that we are becoming ever stronger.

“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.” Hebrews 12:11