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1.20.2015

MINTED FROM HEAVEN


The loons have been calling.  They seem to only call when it's sunny out though.  I try to imitate their call much like Katherine Hepburn did in the movie "On Golden Pond", minus the magnitude of vibrato she had in her voice.  There is something magical about hearing them. And, like all things in nature, they play right to my very soul.

My running route has changed greatly as of late.  No more city streets, city parks, the big cemetery, or the occasional ghetto neighborhood route.  No more paths illuminated by street lamps, front porch lights, or car headlights.  It is virtually totally dark here and still.   Gravel and country roads next to marshy bogs of cattails that lead to the lake, farm fields, wide open spaces, and views of the lakes mark my routes now.  You are not sheltered from winter's harshness by buildings and ambient light where I am.  

Most of my belongings are not here at the present time, including my treadmill.  Treadmills, for me at least, are used when the weather is inclement; icy, raining, or too much snow to maneuver even with Yaks. It's not my first choice to run on, but at the very least it gives me opportunity to continue running when I cannot outside.   But since I am  presently de-void of my treadmill, snow plows that keep the roads clear in the pre dawn hours, ambient or man made lights, and temperatures near or below 0 degrees, I've ventured out to run in the predawn hours before work.  It's a bit of WOman VS Wild.

I burned the inside of my right nostril and sinuses from near to below 0 temps [Google it if you will].  It was a miserable week of recovery from that.  It didn't stop me from running outside though.  It just added another crappy condition to the already crappy conditions I was running in/with.  Oh how I wished the loons called in the early morning darkness.  It would have made running in 4 inches of unplowed snow on the roads more melodic. Those loons would have taken my mind off the fact that, even with three pair of gloves on, I couldn't feel the tips of my fingers .  Their loud calling would have distracted me enough that I might have been able to go a couple more miles.

With all things moving and changing about my life as of late, I find great solace in routine - in running.  My mind was full of apprehensions about the timing of so many things still unsettled as I set out to run on a new road that I hadn't ventured down yet - a country road that ran perpendicular to the lake I lived on.  The weather conditions were windy. The road was splattered here and there with an occasional house or two and then followed by stretches of just fields and no houses.

As I tried to combat the wind, the spots of black ice and my doubting heart, I prayed to know that I know that I know.  That though the timing was longer than I wanted, it didn't change what I knew. I repeated the song and dance again and again in my head as I ran.  I knew.  I trusted.  I knew.  I trusted.  

There it was, on this country road on a windy wintry day - a dollar bill laying at the edge of the road.  It was crinkly and laid on top of a small puddle of half melted ice. I stopped, took my gloves off and picked up the wet dollar bill cramming it in my pocket.  Unmistakably there was God's confirmation of hearing and knowing the record I was playing in my head.  He heard me trying to combat the fear and the doubts.  And, He acknowledged it all.

God it seems, speaks to me in lost money from time to time.  He has for years and years.  It was God's voice of reassurance of His presence to me.  Of Him knowing my situation.  Of Him working it out.  

It was loud and crystal clear on that road in the midst of a windy wintry day.  No money would likely be found on a country road with little traffic in the dead of winter, let alone a dollar bill. That is, unless it was supposed to be there for me.

It was a road I had not traveled before on foot, and yet it was God's reoccurring touch that had met me time and time again over the years. It would be fine.  It would come into alignment.  It was being monitored by God himself. 

I thanked him for the loons, my new running routes, the complete darkness in the morning and the significance of that dollar bill.  All that on a bitter winter day.  

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