On Learning Discipline

My new shoes are hot pink and black and I think I can conquer the world in them. But they make me get up and out and I am finally putting my feet to the pavement once again.

This was a few months ago and unlike most things in my life, this one is still a near daily discipline. 

Those early mornings watching the sun wake up in the cool of the breeze I pass horses and llamas. My three running buddies are the outside dogs near my house and they guard me with their lives. I feel slightly invincible on these morning jogs, and the hope and the future are mine. My feet move so smooth and my core is stronger because of these miles.

Those gangster dogs down the gravel way jump out teeth flaring and slobber swinging and they come at me. I speed up at first and then I stop. I growl back. Oh yes. I really do. Their tails fall and they recant. If only I could be so aggressive twords sin and such. 

Each step I take builds muscle in my brain and truth paves its way across my ever-deceitful heart. I am stronger because of these minutes each morning and my post-run hours prove it. As a woman long-enslaved to bulimia I know what slavery tastes like and no longer am I bound by pints of ice cream or that broken scale whose digits defined my worth. 

I run and ask things in Jesus' name and guess what—He answers. Not always in hours or weeks but I see months of prayers so tangible today. Life is less about me and it is so good. A life and body, no longer mine and the fruit is growing because of it. I am a temple and behold the Spirit lives here. I think I forget that too often as I cower back in fear of the unknown.

So I pray for revival in India where I left my heart and my big sis with babies in her belly and my dear friend in Virginia who I miss desperately and for the bible study that is coming later this night where my Korean friend will come to know Christ any second now and I hold my breath and beg to not forget. And none of this matters but it all does because I am a temple belonging to Jesus and He is working. 

I feel so good and lively on the days I run and I know that discipline is good for me. This is good for me. Not because it makes me look a certain way or an escape to another place or even because I am more alert. It is good for me because scripture calls it good and God established it for my good.

Learning discipline has been painfully sweet and tested my faith many days. Today I run a little more steadfast. 

The winter is upon us and I feel the weight a little bit. My body and brain hate the cold and the dark and food seems to taste better under all those layers. Yesterday I joined the gym and bought some vitamin D. I learned how to juice last night and this is how I flee from the sin that so easily entangles me.

But this is the battle, friends. We flee from sin of our flesh in this world by running the opposite way. We run onward towards Christ because the victory has been won and blessed is the man who remains steadfast for the namesake of He who has overcome.

So today as my hot pink shoes carry me up the gravel roads towards home with the frost slicing across my face, I have to pause only to growl at the dogs and listen as the lies recant along with them into the bushes gone brown. Then onward we run...

For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, andmake straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed. -Heb. 12:11-13