Running the Race

Before we left our MCC orientation, the former executive director Robb Davis, spoke about life and faith. He spoke about how the Beatitudes say that those who pursue righteousness are blessed but how it doesn't seem that way in this world a lot of the time. He spoke about Hebrews 11 and how the people of faith listed there didn't live to see what they hoped for. And he spoke of running the race anyways-- pursuing righteousness when you don't feel blessed in that pursuit and being faithful even when you may not live to see your hopes realized. It was a powerful message, I thought, since I too often fail to see how God is fulfilling his promises to bless, to not be mocked.
A week ago, I ran in the Vientiane 10K. It strikes me, as it did when I ran cross country in high school and would spend some runs planning to write a book about how running is a metaphor for life, that the race metaphor is very apt. Races and faith are both hard yet joyful things. I am always apprehensive before a race and always tired during it. I do not wake up wanting to go to a race nor do I always want to keep going once I've started. There are always moments where I need someone to cheer me on (like the MCC Laos folks who came out in the early morning to show support or the Lao runner who finished with me and kept saying "Fighting" to remind me not to slow down) or to reach down and cheer for myself. Yet somehow, when it is all over, I am so joyful to have run. Inexplicably, generally-- although this time I was given a basket of soymilk, a good cause for joy, eh?
This past week has been like a race in many ways. I did not wake up and feel ready to teach or fail to teach (any tips on managing classroom behavior would be most welcome, especially for large classes that don't speak your language), to not be understood, to be misunderstood, to not understand. But then I heard cheers from the sidelines-- a phone call from home, a package from the community group I was a part of last year in Seattle with gifts and letters of encouragement, a text message from another MCCer. Or I found a second wind in trips to the That Luang festival (more on that later) or successful communication attempts with the other teachers or lunch with the students. And I realized that I am blessed to be here (am I pursuing righteousness? I'm not entirely sure what that pursuit might look like in my life. But I'm here learning what it might mean to pursue) and joyful to be running, that God provides moments of rest and baskets of soymilk as I keep going. And that others are faithfully running, too, in Seattle, Cambodia, Tanzania. May you find the strength to put on your shoes when you least want to and may there be moments of great lightness and cool breezes to balance the hot and tired times.