Body. Blood. Sweat. Tears.

||| It's never been about the body, it has ALWAYS been about the blood. |||


Tonight I went on a night run.


I needed to free myself from the weight of my own self pity,
my deafening self righteousness,


that was cluttering my mind, and stifling my spirit.


And I found myself playing a game….


Could I run the last mile with looking at nothing but the green and red, orange and white lights in front of me?


Orange hand, caution; blink blink 3, 2, 1; white man, cross.



And I found myself trying to tune everything else out.
The steps I was taking in front of me,
the people on the street around me,
even the cars flying by next to me.


I tried to study every finger on the bright orange hand in front of me,
as the dark closed in around me,
until all I could see were the street lights.


And I remembered something.



How distracted I am every, single, day.



I wake up in the morning and all I can think is…

pee, coffee, face, hair, breakfast, clothes, work….
home, dinner, bed, sleep.

In that same damn order.


And every once in a while fun gets to replace work….
But even then.


Where is my Jesus?


Where have I put Him once again?

I haven't misplaced Him have I?


I sworeeeee I put Him rightttt here….
Damnit.
Those are my shoes.


Maybe here….
Shit.
That's my bank account.


Perhaps over in this area….
F$&@.
That's everything else that I care about and place before Jesus.


MY Jesus.


The LOVER, protector, and saver of my soul.


And I misplaced Him again like I would a shitty toothbrush.


It's on runs like these that I remember how stinkin hard it is to focus on Jesus.
To run the straight and narrow.


If only one is gonna get the prize,
then I better stop freakin stopping for dipped cones at Dairy Queen,
or this girl's gonna LOSE.


And as I finished up my run, Jesus reminded me that it is NOT about the body.
That my life and everything in it is worth nothing.
NOTHING.

Like Paul says…
"I count it all as rubbish",
literally meaning….
"I count all this other shit to be like menstrual blood"….loose translation…
for the sake of knowing Jesus.


So, it isn't, in fact, about the body at all.

It is, in fact, and always HAS been, about the blood.

Because it is by His sacrificial, redeeming blood,
that I am able to sacrifice my life, my longings, and my distractions,
and lay them down at the feet of Jesus.

Counting them all as nothing.


For the sake of knowing Him.
<--- loose="" p="" translation="">



So as I came upon my last intersection,

my phone died, music stopped, and I took just a brief moment to listen.


And He spoke those words into my heart.



I've been holding onto a lot lately.


Praying that in every step,
I pay attention to the details in the fingers on the orange hand of grace,
that is blinking right in front of me,
forgetting everything else around me,
knowing that if I fall,
the light of grace will still be blinking,
and the road will still be there, waiting for me to take my next step.


I may end up face planting every once in a while,
but then again….

If I don't get any battle scars running this race,
What will I have to show for when I claim my prize?


Jesus got some scars.


I think it's cool if I do too.


Forever His,
Rach