There are two quirks in my personality that cause me the most grief. They have the combined effect of turning me into a complete mess.

• ’m terrified of feeling overwhelmed.
• always bite off more than I can chew.

I try. Really, I do. But invariably I get in over my head so that, naturally, I’m overwhelmed. And, oh yeah, since I’m a perfectionist, even if I’m not having to tread water to stay on top of the work load, I find ways to ruin even manageable responsibilities. So…make that three quirks that cause me grief.

That’s why I quit teaching school full-time. And then, because a perfectionist can drown teaching even just part-time, I quit teaching altogether.

“She’s Super Mom!” Eden said to her daddy the other day. And he agreed. Gosh, I love them. These sweet compliments were traded between bites of a meal which I did not prepare. With the addition of my new full-time teaching job, our lives are so crazy that finding a few minutes to buy groceries is a tremendous feat of organization, patience and energy. I have not these gifts. Not having wholesome, healthy meals prepared for my family is fodder for my beat-yourself-up-mercilessly gene. It sure is sweet that my family is not as hard on me as I am on myself.

Like so many summers before, school started even though I wasn’t ready. Honestly, I’ve tried to cut myself a break because it wasn’t entirely my fault that I wasn’t ready. I spent most of the in-service week before school started without a computer. We started a ladies bible study the week I went back to work. (It was awesome.) We had our very first church plant worship service the night before school started. (God is awesome.) The weekend before I actually had students in the chairs, I managed to go for a long run, write lesson plans, put my classroom together, and buy some new clothes so that I wouldn’t disgrace myself wearing the rags in my closet. I continued to not beat myself up as I got up at 3 A.M. on the morning of the second day to get my lesson ready. OK, I was a little irked with myself, but I did have a good week.

Still, I am too busy, and I’m overwhelmed. I sure don’t feel super.

And then God gave me this…

I ran 17 miles today. Don’t ask me how I harangued myself for settling on 17 instead of 18! (I may have had an epiphany this morning, but I’m still a work in progress.) Lately, I’ve been circling downtown Benton for my long run because it’s about the only place around here that somewhat flat. At various street corners downtown, markers have been placed in the concrete stamped with famous quotes--ostensibly to inspire or maybe bring a smile to your face. Since my regular route is around downtown, I’m sure I’ve read all of them 100 times. Today, on about my 10th lap, I stomped over the following, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.—Abraham Lincoln.”

How nice. Honest Abe and all his wisdom. Makes me so proud to be an American. And even more proud to be a Christian since Jesus actually said it.

Yes, Abe made the speech “A House Divided.” Right. Got that. But when he borrowed the principle from Jesus, his audience most likely read enough of the bible to know who Abe was quoting--unlike the well-meaning person who stamped it in concrete at the corner of Main and South.

I chuckled about this for half a block. Then it occurred to me that I’d run over this little error again and again for the last year and never noticed. A falsehood—a half-truth—has been laid down and preserved. It’s meant for us to take it in—even subconsciously—as we pass over it and glean whatever wisdom it has to offer. But it’s not exactly true—and for a Christian, very often the source determines the validity.

I pass over falsehoods and half-truths repeatedly every day. Lies that say I have to be perfect. Whispers that claim my best doesn’t measure up. Stamped on the very core of my being is a little fib that says even a tiny slip-up is a crushing failure. I walk right over it. I stand on it. It is foundational to the way I view myself and everything that I do.

This morning, though, God made it pretty clear that those things are not true and He isn’t the source of it either. My life is plain ol’ normal—mom, wife, school teacher—nothing super hero-ish about it. There’s nothing spectacular about my background or my education. I do a few things well, and lots of stuff I don’t even attempt--just like anybody else. I’m pretty ordinary.

But I’ve answered an extraordinary call. God has put me in a lot of roles recently that I’ve hardly felt prepared to fill. I agonize over all the details, all the people who are depending on me, whether or not I can live up to the commitments I’ve made. Yet God sustains and strengthens. He loves and fills up and transforms. And for whatever reason, He blesses me to be a part of what He’s doing. I can offer up what I know is a complete mess to God and He makes it useful.

Someone’s life is going to be different because I was here…being a mess…

I’m not sure I can run that 26 miles. Today I confronted a very real fear that my body just isn’t up to it. And yet, I’ve made 63% of my fundraising goal. Someday soon, a cancer patient will have assistance paying their bills because I was a complete mess after my dad died and decided to do something good. If you have a few extra bucks, you can click on my fundraising page to make a donation and change lives with me! I need $1875 to reach my goal. Small donations are HUGE!

Every day I juggle all the myriad tasks that make up my teaching job. Want to know something really cool? I love those kids. I hardly knew them a week before I wanted to wrap my arms around the whole lot. God put me there to love and disciple those kids. I’ll do it. I’m an absolute mess, but I’ll do it. The lesson plans will be posted late, the copies won’t be printed out, I’ll be pulling my hair out because I just keep dropping the ball when people are depending on me, but someone’s life will change forever because I answered that extraordinary call.

And finally, the proverbial kicker…I am back to working full-time after I swore I wouldn’t. My husband can now answer God’s call to plant a church because my job provides for our financial needs. Lives will change. Mine already has. Thank you, God, for redeeming the mess.

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Ephesians 2:10

Originally posted on my blog--lifeatnorthandmain.com--

In order to get to the shade tree at North and Main, from which the name of this little blog is derived, I have to run a mile uphill. Well, I could drive it, but then I wouldn't need the shade. The first 1/3 mile has three fairly steep, albeit short hills; though generally it's uphill. From there it's a steady climb. And while I'm at it, I may as well mention that what I'm doing isn't what most people would recognize as "running" so much...but, anyway...

Until recently, that one mile was the number one top reason that I couldn't get motivated to don the running shoes and head out the door. I've done a few half marathons, but the truth is--I'm not much of an athlete. I'm a fake-it-till-you-make-it runner. For ten years I lived, and "trained" (and that's playing fast and loose with the meaning of that word), in an area of Texas that is completely flat. Prior to that, I lived in places where I could get to a flat spot to run and what fool would go find a hill when they're really a fake athlete anyway? Furthermore, I actually never trained for anything until two years ago. I ran to support my food habit, and truthfully, there just aren't enough hours in a day to run enough miles for me to break even, y'all.

Then. Arkansas. Holy crap.

We moved here a year ago. There's simply no way to get around the dad gum hills. My house is midway up a hill to begin with, so I either start a workout running uphill or end it that way. The easiest approach I could come up with is to tackle that mile hill, ending up at the edge of downtown Benton, which is kinda sorta flat. So then I can run a lap or two around downtown which rolls some and has a couple of steep spots on either end, but that's about as flat as it gets in Benton. The whole thing has been a little ridiculous.

Simultaneously, I wasn't meeting any fitness goals. AT. ALL. Not that I need to prove that I'm a fake athlete, but it is evidenced in the following fact. I "trained" for two half marathons in the fall of 2011 and winter of 2012, and I GAINED weight. Now that's just wrong. The funny thing is, every time I complained about this to a friend, we would invariably have this conversation:

Her: Well, you gain muscle...

Me: Really? In my butt? Does butt muscle split the seam in all your pants?

I appreciate the sentiment, but c'mon, now. I thought making the move and thus running more challenging terrain would make a difference. But, alas. Even running Arkansas hasn't done much to reduce the size of my bum.

So, it has all been pretty discouraging until today. We've had a little break from the heat. It rained through my whole workout today. I made it to the top of that hill, right through the intersection at North and Main, and kept going and going. Up and down more hills that have plagued me since I moved here. I only stopped, if necessary, for traffic (and not because I was sucking wind so hard that I sound like an asthmatic donkey) and actually felt like I wanted to keep going when the workout ended.

Thank God. It's finally getting easier. And it only took a year.

A year ago this week, we moved to Arkansas. So many challenges and obstacles went before that decision. It bordered on hellish there for awhile. I asked God on multiple occasions, "When do we get to rest?" But one thing I've noticed since we finally took the leap (decided to come here without jobs to start a church, etc....it's all in another post), it is getting easier FINALLY. It's not getting easier because the hills have shrunk because they certainly have not. Maybe chugging up and down the mountains before had better prepared us for what lay ahead. Maybe we don't need rest as often because we're conditioned to tackling the hills in faith.

Before I sign off, I'm still fundraising for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. On October 27th, I'm running the Rock n Roll St. Louis Marathon. Probably the most powerful thing that I've heard since I started training is that a cancer patient can't hit the snooze button and sleep through a day of treatment. I encounter that temptation every time I put on my gear to walk out the door. Some days, I just don't want to face the hills--and that's not to mention the heat! My dad couldn't just say, "No bone marrow aspiration today. I'm just not up for it." And so I train, even when I just don't think I can.

But here's some AMAZING NEWS!!! I found out this week that I now have a company sponsor that will match dollar for dollar every donation up to my $5000 goal. That means that when I make it to my goal, it will actually double to $10,000! If you'd like to help, just click here. Small donations are HUGE!

"I lift up my eyes to the hills-- where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth." Psalm 121:1-2

One thing that can't be stressed enough about the research I'm training for is that it supports treatments for all kinds of cancers. Therapies that were developed for blood cancers have helped patients with other cancers as well. And, have you noticed? Cancer is everywhere. We need research funding to put an end to it! We all benefit from the work that LLS is doing.

Having a cancer diagnosis hit so close to home has left me with, not only grief, but a general skittish feeling.Will it come for me? My husband? My kids?

Even if I never have a personal encounter with cancer again, it's left its mark. This is my little girl Emma Kate with her "Papa Bear." Sweet, right? She loved my daddy and I was so looking forward to her discovery of all the things that made him a great man--besides the fact that he would hold her in his lap while she ate her Cheerios. One of my biggest regrets is that my girls didn't get to see him one last time before he died. This picture was taken at the zoo the last time that Emma Kate got to visit with my dad. She was 2 1/2. After that trip, she never saw him again. We didn't know it when this picture was taken, but he was already sick.

If someone had told me five years ago that I would one day run a marathon, I would have laughed them out of the room. Things as drastic as this have a way of changing you. I once was a woman who ran to support my food habit. Today, I'm running to show my resolve--so patients don't have to measure time in terms of how much is left.

Here's something exciting for me, though. As I write this, my website is showing that I'm 28% of the way to my goal. It's actually 30%! I have a check that I got in the mail that isn't included yet. How much is left? Just 70% but let's just shoot for the moon and maybe we'll be looking at 200% by the time October rolls around. I'm so grateful to every one who has donated. Thank you!!

Today is June 25th.

Two years ago today, my dad lost his battle with leukemia.

You know what I would love? I'd love for a breakthrough--so that no parent would have to sit at the bedside of their little child suffering through cancer treatment. So that a stem cell transplant would be as easy and painless as a routine vaccination. So that no patient would fear that they might miss graduations and grandchildren.

I'm joining with Team in Training to raise money to find a cure--to bring an end to the suffering and sad stories. I'm training to run the Rock n Roll St. Louis Marathon, 26.2 miles, and have set a fundraising goal of $5000.

Join me and make a donation that will bring us closer to a cure!