The Turkey Trot Parable

A chilly morning at the track, where a story comes to life.

Before sunrise two days after Thanksgiving, I had just come into the warm house after gazing in wonder at the stars twinkling away on the western horizon. Each one was perfectly in place, just as God said they would be when He put them there.

It brought a rush of comfort and peace to start the day. That would have been enough, but when I stepped back inside and warmed up with coffee and words of wisdom from good books and The Book, I jotted down four seemingly random, unconnected themes that, as I pondered them, were not random or unconnected at all.

In fact, they were an eye-opening reminder of what makes for a satisfying life and a fruitful Walk—and a daily mission of things to give, pursue and be:

Giving…not just your resources to those in need, but your gifts, talents, abilities and time.

Persevering…in every aspect of life, refusing to quit or become complacent.

Encouraging…this is huge. The Bible tells me so. What the world needs now.

Seeking…the last thing I read but really the lynch pin of all the rest; to keep seeking first the King and His kingdom, and everything else—giving, persevering, encouraging—will flow out of that. Flow out of me.

As I pondered some more, all the fullness and sluggishness from turkey, stuffing and apple pie from two days earlier seemed to be replaced by something light and energizing. Something so Heaven-sent and yet so practical for carrying God’s light within me to the people and places of every single day…

“Giving is the secret to a healthy life. Not necessarily money, but whatever a person has to give of encouragement, sympathy, and understanding.”

—John D. Rockefeller

And while pondering, I was reminded of the Turkey Trot from Thanksgiving morning, and how I also came away energized and not exhausted and wondered why. Maybe because it was where those four seemingly random themes came together. Which reminded me of a parable for this Journey from a Trot not many years ago...

Every half-mile, they were there. Cheering, shouting, encouraging, applauding.

As if you were the only one running this race. Except there are many, many others.

These teammates of encouragement are not hired hands.

They are all on the same team, and they had run this race already, and they knew its course well.

They knew where the steep hills and unexpected twists and turns were, and cheered louder.

“Great job! You can do this! Wooooooo!”

You hear that, and you notice your pace quicken, energized and less labored than when running alone.

Persevering, one step at a time.

And just when you don’t think you could gulp oxygen fast enough, there they are again:

“You’re doing great! Half-way there!” Low-five hand slaps as you run by.

Then…stretches of middle-of-nowhere... and nothing but the sound of pounding feet and labored breath.

No cloud of witnesses anywhere in sight. There’s only way one to turn: Up.

“O God, help!”

And as you seek, you find that He is still with you, cheering perhaps louder than all the rest.

And you find that it is here when men, women, youth, children, each take on their in-race cheering roles as they run alongside or pass one another. Where have I heard this before?:

"One generation shall praise Your works to another,

And shall declare Your mighty and remarkable acts." (Psalm 145:4)

But not just the older to younger, but younger to older, too. 

Hope rises.

And around the bend and into the warm sun, voices of another cheering throng:

“Keep going! One mile to go! Well done!”

The last leg of the journey, on your last legs, your mind screaming “give it up already!”

But perseverance kicks in again with an unexplainable spring in your step as you hear the cheers and feel the warmth running through your veins of running with purpose—even with a whole bunch of strangers, and yet family.

A spring in your step from coming alongside someone more than twice as young but struggling for breath: “C’mon, you and me, we can do this!” (There is no “i” in t-e-a-m.)

Giving…encouragement…hope. And getting it in return.

And then, the finish line in sight, and one more much-needed cheer—this time, an exclamation point from someone older and wiser:

“You’re almost there…now, pick up your pace! Go!”

What words of wisdom!

Then, that glorious line in the road, the stop watch, and the roar of a crowd of people you never met.

...Almost like heaven.

“So encourage each other and give each other strength [build each other up], just as you are doing now.”

—1 Thessalonians 5:11, Expanded

And Never Forget It

Sunrise in the neighborhood...grateful for another new day.

How often has a little everyday scene (like this sunrise moment from earlier this fall) in our lives stopped us in our tracks, almost as a heavenly tap on the shoulder that says “pay attention to this.” One moment would be wonderful, but when there are three saying the same thing, the tap on the shoulder becomes a grab. Three such moments from this year—one in summer, one at the start of this month, and one this week—are sticking to my soul as a theme in a very good sort of way.

And I wonder if they might be a universal call to planet Earth from Heaven’s megaphone?

First, at my high school's 50th reunion this summer, out of a ton of things to remember and celebrate, there was this billboard that God himself seemed to be pointing to most of all:

“‘Enjoy the life and breath I have given…and never forget to be grateful.’ Through the names and faces and voices of classmates I could barely remember, over and over, I kept hearing the same thing: through all their hardships and disappointments and losses…'I’m grateful. Every day is precious.’ So bark less, wag more. Amen, and amen (and never forget it).”

And then, as October turned to November, the theme suddenly burst on the scene once more. On Twitter, no less. As I quickly scrolled through my feed one morning, there was a photo with a message posted by a friend that seemed to jump out of the phone and into my heart more than any news event of the day:

“Happy November…November is the month that reminds us to be thankful for the positive things in our life.”

And then this week, as 2022 turned the corner toward Thanksgiving and Christmas, the theme again stopped me in my tracks. It was loud and it was wonderful. It was a simple photo and message from our high school’s athletic director and his family:

“This year we are starting a new tradition, getting a tree up a little early and filling it with things we are grateful for. #thegratitudetree”… (All the decorations are gratitude reminders.)

These three simple markers seemed to be shouting the same thing: that while it is always good to be thankful, being grateful is even better. The two words are not the same. One psychiatric medical professional put it this way:

 “Gratitude is an attitude of appreciation under any circumstance. Gratitude involves being thankful, but it is more than that. Gratitude means expressing thankfulness and being appreciative of life daily even when nothing exciting happens. …Gratitude is your decision that the day is a good day even when evidence points to the opposite. You do not need something good to happen to have gratitude, and when bad things happen, your gratitude does not falter.”

So, yes, it is good (and delicious) that the fourth Thursday of every November has been set aside for simply giving thanks. But maybe God's grab of my shoulder is saying it is better to know and remember this..

Gratitude is always in season.

And so from high school reunions to a friend’s tweet and to a family’s fantastic Christmas tree, I am resolved on Thanksgiving week to once again live by a resounding theme. The invitation to join is open to all…

For every to-do list, shopping list, and priority list, add this one:

A gratitude list.

Count your many blessings, name them one by one.

All of them.

The ones you take for granted.

Like your own bed after a long day.

Or how no two sunsets are ever the same.

Or, an eagle flying low overhead as you run near a field.

Go ahead. You will soon run out of paper.

And things like negativity, self-pity, envy and irritation will run out with them...

“Therefore, as you have received Christ Jesus the Lord,

Walk in union with Him,

Reflecting His character in the things you do and say…

Becoming continually built up in Him

And becoming increasingly more established in your Faith…

And overflowing in it with gratitude.”

(Colossians 2:6-7, Amplified)

Remember that worship is my response to a revelation that everything—

Every single good and perfect gift in life, and the Life to come,

Is from Him.

Every day.

Take nothing, nothing, absolutely noting for granted.

Give thanks with a grateful heart.

Amen and amen (and never forget it).

“If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.”

—Meister Eckhart, German theologian

Field of Dreams

A summer evening visit to an old friend: the Cheney Avenue field.

Whenever I drive by it, I can’t help but take my eyes off the road for a second or two. Whenever I walk or run by it—and that is often— can’t help but gaze at its rolling knolls and tall grasses and wildflowers. And whenever I walk through it, I can’t help but stand in the middle of it all and just stand, and be in awe, and rest, and breathe deeply, and find invigoration for the journey.

Especially if you’re from around here, in a land filled with woods and mountains, there is something about a wide open field that is magnetic—something that makes you want to pause from the chaos, busyness and to-dos and pull off the road for a second and just take it all in. What’s with that? Perhaps it is as simple as God’s DNA in all that He has made—fields, creation, and we creatures that He loves—that is bubbling to the surface, and we don’t even realize it. Bubbling up and begging for attention amidst all the 24/7 noise. Not unlike what the psalmist famously discovered many years ago:

“The Eternal God is my shepherd, He cares for me always.

He provides me rest in rich, green fields beside streams of refreshing water.

He soothes my fears;

He makes me whole again,

Steering me off worn, hard paths to roads where truth and righteousness echo His name…” (from Psalm 23, The Voice)

And sometimes, those “rich, green fields” can even show up as a field of dreams…

One morning not long ago, I awoke to words from a song I had not heard in awhile:

“And all I did was pray

And all I did was worship

And all I I did was bow down

And all I did was stay still…”

Strange. I wasn’t sure where that came from or what I had been dreaming about, but I did know I had a lot on my mind and lots of loose threads to corral. And I had to wonder that if instead of mere coincidence, God, who neither slumbers or sleeps, saw that as well. Perhaps those random lyrics weren’t random after all and were simply a loving reminder that I needed to hear to start the day:

“I AM still here.”

And as I peered into them, I realized that those lyrics in the night weren’t strange at all but were the formula for getting through just about anything in life, including all those loose ends that need corralling:

Stop striving.

Stop trying to win this battle on your own.

Stop running away and run perseveringly to green pastures instead.

Stop trying to live by performance and approval and instead find God’s grace and mercy in time of every need.

Be still and remember that you have a Savior who is forever your advocate, no matter what.

He was, He is, and He always will be your defender:

“The Lord will fight for you. All you have to do is keep still.” (Exodus 14:14)

And whenever you need a reminder, go take a walk, or go for a run…

To that familiar place nearby where you can’t help but gaze at its rolling knolls and tall grasses and wildflowers. 

To go stand in the middle of it all and just stand, and be in awe, and rest, and breathe deeply, and find invigoration for the journey.

And remember once more, for the thousandth time:

“Let be, and be still, and know, recognize and understand,

that I am God.” 

(Psalm 46:10 Amplified Classic)

The Parable of the Old Bridge

All things new. (If you're from around here, no caption necessary.)

Once upon a time, in a land not very far away, an old bridge in the middle of nowhere was languishing under the weight of the world. It was uniquely shaped, just like other bridges, and its stones-and-rocks appearance was uniquely designed—each one precisely and perfectly fitting together. On the outside, the bridge was beautiful and had thousands upon thousands of friends who smiled as they went by. On the inside, though, the bridge had become tired, and beat up, and found it increasingly hard to greet each new day cheerfully.

Plain and simple, on the outside, all looked well. On the inside, the bridge was broken, and felt small and forgotten out here in the middle of nowhere. Surely, it thought, only the bigger bridges in the bigger towns and cities were noticed and cared for. So, for many years, it tried patching things up here, and trying to smooth things over there, and applying new coats of pavement to try to cover what was really wrong underneath its skin. That would always work for awhile, but soon, the little bridge would again feel tired, beat up, and broken. And the weight of carrying the cares of the world, day after day, night after night, winter, spring, summer and fall, became heavier than ever. Would anyone notice out here in the middle of nowhere? Would anyone care?

Then one very cold day while crying out for help, there was a voice unlike any the little bridge had heard before. Even in the winter chill, it was warm and powerful and wonderful: “I have come to bring you back to life!” But because it was so burdened and hardened, even cynical, from years of frustration, the old bridge wondered, “Is this really true, or is this just another self-improvement idea that goes nowhere?” But the voice, unlike any the bridge had heard before, continued...

“Where I’m from, all things are possible!”

With its back up against the river banking and nowhere else to turn, the little bridge surprised itself by saying, “OK, I give up!—and I believe you can do just what you say.”

And so it began. Immediately, some obvious surface things in the bridge’s old life changed right away. The sky never looked bluer and the air never felt more refreshing. People could tell that something wonderful was happening. But for the most part, the voice worked day after day after day on the heart of the old bridge’s infrastructure—the places most people could not see but where it was most broken. No more patching things up. Lovingly, patiently, and with great artistry, the voice brought new strength, new life, and new hope to the little bridge. Its effects were being felt all around.

Still, it seemed to take forever, and some days and weeks felt like two steps forward and one step back. But then there came that glorious time not many days ago when the old bridge looked at it itself and noticed it was still uniquely shaped with its beautiful and uniquely designed stones-and-rocks appearance, but everything felt, well, different—especially on the inside where no one could see. The little bridge was beside itself in wonder and joy and hope, even though it knew that along with days of warm sunshine ahead there would always be those days and years of storms and fog and burdens. Even so, everything had been fixed up, like never before!

Or so it thought. Until that same warm and wonderful and powerful voice came by to admire his makeover and to make one more makeover to the little bridge’s thinking: “Fix? Not at all. Look at yourself. See? I make all things new!” And best of all, the voice promised to always be ready to help in the days and years ahead, whenever it was needed...

“We are all trophies of God's grace, some more dramatically than others; Jesus came for the sick and not the well, for the sinner and not the righteous. He came to redeem and transform, to make all things new. May you go forth more committed than ever to nourish the souls who you touch, those tender lives who have sustained the enormous assaults of the universe.”—Philip Yancey