Settle in. This one's a little long.
-----
On Wednesday, I went for a jog to introduce myself to Coldwater, KS.
As an auditor, you stay busy pretty much from the crack of dawn until you hit the pillow during busy season. So, if I was going to run, it needed to be first thing, so that it didn't get pushed out of the way. So, it was 5:30 a.m. What was it you called that, Amanda? Freakishly early?
Anyway, Coldwater isn't very big. And so after giving myself the on-foot guided tour of the main drags in town under the street lamps, I had only made it about a mile and a quarter. And 3 miles were on the schedule. So...I needed to trot into a neighborhood. Out from under the lamps. I didn't want to. It was so dark that you literally could not see what was ahead of you. I've never been afraid of the dark, but on this morning: I felt fear!
Why did I feel fear? Was it the dark? Really? I'm not thinking so. I think it was not knowing what was coming. I couldn't see far enough ahead of me, so I didn't want to go somewhere I couldn't see. However, I gritted my teeth and headed into the neighborhood.
I'll never forget the feeling that came over me once I was in the dark, under that dark country sky. An intense sense of...awe. Like fear and wonder mixed.
(Let's pause. City kids: you may not know about this. Country kids: you already know about this very well. Hybrids: (like me) We have the wonder of having both experiences. Let's continue.)
A sky that black...It's something you simply cannot see with light around. So immense...so massive...it makes you feel like it's drawing you in, like it could reach down and swallow you up. That's awe: you're afraid, but you're drawn in at the same time. I turned Jon Bon Jovi off in my ears and just tried to take it all in...trying to catch what I thought God was speaking to me through His creation. I think it went a little something like this (JIV):
"You weren't going to see this under the street lights. You needed to be away from what you knew. You needed to not be able to see where you were going to get here. You needed darkness. Look at these stars. Look at this sky. I did this. I made darkness, and it is good. When you follow me, there will be darkness. But you will see things you'd never have seen if you simply followed what you knew, in the light."
It's not as easy as that when you have to actually live it. But it's great to have a God who speaks to you, even when you're doing your best not to listen.
(And that was the Jason International Version, by the way.)
-----
Wednesday's workout: 3.32 mi. run
Friday's workout: 3.11 mi. run
Saturday's workout: 3.11 mi. run
Good post, Jason. Yes, I did call that freakishly early.
I am a hybrid also, and love the city, but prefer to get out into the country and be awestruck by the endless night sky and be reminded of just how great a God we serve.
I'm glad that you're finding that sometimes traveling into the darkness (and the unknown) is ok.
As a bonafied country girl I'll tell you that I've always loved the fact that it can be so dark in the country you can't see your hand in front of your face. You just can't get that anywhere else.
I'm proud of you for pushing through and learning more than what you anticipated on that run. God is good.