Big lights will inspire you,
Lets here it for New York, New York,
New York!!!
So recently I got the amazing opportunity to run a marathon in....you guessed it....New York City.
Now as I describe my intense emotions as I ran the most fun-filled, overly emotional 42.2 km of my life, let me qualify them with a brief description of my...awkwardly emotional heart. Yes, awkwardly emotional. I mean I know Jesus has made me who I am and I am his creation, and I believe all of that, but let’s be honest, it’s embarrassing at times.
Before I tell you about NYC, let me just a brief picture of the awkwardness. Let's take a little walk down memory lane...
One average, run of the mill night in University, I was out studying at a coffee shop with my good friend Dan. I truly thought I was Felicity in University, and to be honest for quite a few years thereafter. (For those of you who don’t remember the late 90’s show, it’s about
a perfectly normal fly-under the radar girl who followed a boy to NYU
after he wrote in her yearbook... then chopped off her hair to
reclaim her independence when it didn’t work out... She sort inspired my life on and off for the last decade and a half or of so ).Felicity hung out at coffee shops, and even worked at one, so I hung out at coffee shops, and even worked at one. Totally normal night...very Felicity- esque.
Then it happened. Amid the cheesy coffee shop play list of the month, Kelly Clarkson’s “A Moment Like This” started playing.
And the tears started to fall. From my eyes, not Kelly’s. Like, they actually fell. And I’m not talking about any mousy “her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears” kindda cry. I’m talking body racked with sobs, barely able to string together a sentence kind of cry. And no, it wasn’t in the ladies room. It was right there, smack dab in the middle of Second Cup, with my friend Dan staring at me, in shock from across the table. Basically it was an ugly cry, as he looked on in horror.
“Kim, what’s wrong with you???”
“It’s just ...(sob, sniffle) every time I hear this song (deep breathe in, whole body shaking, repeating myself)... every time I hear this song....I imagine ....I’m..I’m ..I’m...winning an Oscar. At the Academy awards you know? And it’s just the happiest moment of my life. (Did I mention I was a drama major? Back then, we were all going to be stars).
At that point, we were both a mess, Dan and I. He was practically on the ground laughing and I was desperately trying to get my sob-fest under control.
Akwardly emotional. And overly imaginative.
There are numerous other awkwardly emotional stories, one about Lauren Hill and I (yes the singer) driving through Rexdale (not literally, she was actually in the CD player) and really just letting it all go, but I’ll save that for another time.
Back to NYC.
Now as awkward as my emotions can be at times, I believe, that God has totally placed those emotions on my heart, and He will use them to hopefully in some way glorify Him.
But also, I believe, he placed them there just to enjoy Him. To experience everything that he wants me to experience on this journey, and to really actually taste His Grace. That’s a weird sentence I know, I mean what the heck does Grace taste like anyways? I am still figuring it out, but I know that in experiencing gut wrenching heartbreak, or the discouraging ache of a lonely heart, or just the complete and utter defeat at hearing the circumstances of a loved-one’s life, I am able to just want to scream
with joy, when for no reason at all, He gives me an experience that is just so darned fun, just because He loves me. (I know I have yet to experience real hardship...my life is actually pretty good, and I don't want to pretend to know the pain some people go through. I'm basically talking about the relatively easy hardships of my day to day North American life).
I do know that he literally drags me through some of the tough seasons kicking and screaming, and transforms my heart into one of a thankful child, literally by His Grace.
I totally saw Jesus in the NYC marathon. Yes apparently there was a man dressed as him actually running the race...apprently in remembrance of the Boston Marathon Bombing victims...though definitely some controversy surrounding his motives...
But that’s not where I saw him.
I felt His love for adventure pump through my veins as I hugged my Dad goodbye and climbed on the bus at 5 am. I saw him in the eyes of every New Yorker, in every borough that we ran through, as they stuck out their hands to high five us as we ran. I saw him in the faces of the kiddies dancing along to tunes blasting from oversized retro stereos as they threw candy at us. I saw him in front of the fire trucks that had lined the streets to support us. I heard him in the cheers of my family as they screamed for me coming off the bridge into Manhattan madly waving a home-made sign. I saw him in the volunteers who handed out water and Gatorade, and listened to my increasingly passionate “thank-yous”. (By the end I
was practically making a speech as to what the cup of water meant to me and how great it was that they were giving their time to help us runners get through...tears and all). He was there as I ran through Central Park, turning to others running along-side me saying awkwardly emotional things like “Isn’t this incredible??? Don’t you wish it would never end?” (After mile 15 or so not everyone agreed with me, but that’s OK, to each their own in the marathon). He literally pulled me to the finish line,
and I definitely felt his air high five ( how cheesey am I) as I crossed and realized it was over. As I walked back to my apartment (a walk which by the way was waaay worse than running the marathon itself) I felt his presence as a random dude and his son offered to do up my poncho and put my hood up. He touched me as several New Yorkers stopped me on my way home to tell me they were proud of me. He was there when my Dad met me at the bottom of the stairs of our apartment building (four stories to climb up...torture) and walked behind me in case my legs just gave out. His encouragement was in the texts, Facebook messages, phone calls and e mails of congratulations afterwards. And he reminded me of his tender heart one more time as my parents and sister helped me recover and totally celebrated by eating way too much food afterwards.
As Christians, we always hear about how we are sinners, saved only by the grace of God, which is true. I am a sinner and am saved only by what He did on the cross.
But I love that he blesses us with other gifts along the way, even when what he did on the cross is and always has been more than enough. On Marathon Sunday , in large part I believe because of the awkwardly emotional heart he has given me, I truly got a glimpse of His goodness, His love, His grace, and His willingness to give me “Life to the Full” (John 10:10)
So thank-you Jesus, what a day!
Here are some pics of the experience, love, love, loved every minute of it!
Pre-race coffee at 3:30 am...so thankful for daylight savings !!
There were a tonne of buses all lined up in front of the New York City Public library, all set to transport us out to the start line. 47 000 runners...that's a lot!
I arrived on Staten Island at around 5:30 am....and my race didn't start until around 10:30 ...so I had the time to cozy up to some new friends!
So happy having crossed the finish line. I felt great up until this point....the loooong walk out of the park and home to the apartment were a bit rough !
We went to this amazing Italian restaurant afterwards, everything comes family style on a huge platter. So much food and so good! Apparently they go there on Jersey Shore too, lol. Just call me Snookie...is that her name ?
And no I didn't eat the whole family sized platter of food...though at first I thought I might have been able to !
All in all a great experience !