Blistered Sunrise

Recently, I came to the conclusion that I am a walking encyclopedia of what many would consider to be relatively meaningless information, due in part to the wide variety of books, articles and short stories I read on a regular basis. For example, did you know that roses cut in the morning last longer than ones cut in the afternoon? Or that the average human takes 23,000 breaths in a day? Or that spotted skunks (yes, spotted skunks) do handstands before they spray? Or that there's a company that sells fallout shelters made especially for pets? Yeah, yeah ... I know what some of you are thinking ... I checked and they're way too expensive for me to buy for Julie and Ollie for when the tornado sirens sound. I'll just have to keep putting them in their kennels and attaching them to the water pipes in the basement with bungee cords ... the kennels, not the dogs ... geez ... I may be irrational when it comes to storms, but I'm not crazy enough to bungee the dogs themselves to the pipes. And one more ... fulgurite is formed when lightning strikes sand (think the movie Sweet Home Alabama and the cool statues good old Jake created). See? I really am a walking encyclopedia of pretty meaningless info ... I'm pretty sure I'll never encounter a spotted skunk doing a handstand or find some fulgurite anytime soon. The roses thing is good knowledge to have, though, and should I ever win the lottery, I'm so buying fallout shelters for my hounds ... so perhaps my penchant for meaningless facts has some meaning after all.

A few weeks ago, I read somewhere that taking a short, brisk walk in the morning would help a person be more focused and better able to concentrate throughout the remainder of the day. Since I have significant difficulty in the areas of focus and concentration now, I decided that I would give it a try and see if it really worked. So I've been getting up every morning at 5:15 and walking at a pretty fast pace on my treadmill for 20 minutes. Until Monday anyway ... that morning I got up and went upstairs, stepped on the treadmill, inserted the little plastic thingy into the slot to turn it on ... and nothing. Yep, my treadmill wouldn't turn on no matter what I did, so I finally just gave up and went back to bed ... so much for focus and concentration, unless of course focusing and concentrating on going back to sleep counts in some way. I decided last night, however, that I needed to get up this morning and go walk outside, because the truth is that my early morning walks did seem to be helping my brain to work better throughout the day.

I need to back up for a sec and tell you that I woke up yesterday morning with an enormous fever blister on my bottom lip ... seriously, it's the size of a speed boat, and it hurts like crazy. I've been doing all the stuff that I normally do to get them to go away, but this morning I found myself wishing that I could just walk around all day with a warm rag on my lip. So as I headed across the street in the darkness to begin my walk, I was mentally griping about my lip ... about how much it hurt and how gross it looks. It didn't take long for my lip griping to turn into just a huge, gigantic, overall gripe about lots of things ... diabetes, depression, loneliness, Matt moving, my long commute to work, missing my family, driving a car I despise ... you name it, and I was griping about it. I don't walk on the trail when it's dark ... well, I guess I walk on it for a short distance until I get to the sidewalk that runs alongside the main road and then I walk up to the big parking lot behind the high school. I had my head down this morning in full-blown gripe mode and didn't notice that it was growing lighter outside with every step I took. Until something happened that made me not only notice but stop in my tracks and marvel at how much God loves me ... even though I so do not deserve His love.

As much as I wish I could say that my God moment was caused by me being ultra-spiritual and in tune with my heavenly Father, that's so not the case. Instead, in my self-absorbed, head down, griping mode, I failed to notice a dip in the pavement, lost my balance and bit the dust ... well, actually, I bit the grass by the side of the parking lot and smacked my already aching, fever-blistered lip. It hurt so stinking bad that my eyes instantly filled with tears as I rolled over and just laid in the grass, sure that my lip was probably bleeding profusely. Well that's just awesome, God, I said aloud. It's not enough that I've got this huge sore on my lip, now it's gonna be a hundred times worse ... just awesome, God ... just awesome. At almost the exact second that the words left my lips, the sun broke over the horizon and filled the sky with light. And deep in my heart, it was as if God was saying, "All the stuff you've been complaining about this morning? I've got it covered, child ... why don't you just surrender and trust Me? Look at the sun, Terrie ... I set it in the sky ... I raised it this morning just as I raise it every morning. Look at the Son, Terrie ... you put Him on the cross ... but I raised Him from the dead ... for you, Terrie, to cover your sin, I raised Him from the dead. Look at the sun ... look at the Son." I stood up and brushed the dirt from my shirt and gazed at the sun ... I stood up and brushed the dirt from my heart and gazed at the Son.

Thank You, Father ... thank You for my blistered sunrise this morning ... thank You for loving me even though I so do not deserve Your love. Thank You for never giving up on me, for reaching for me, for knocking me down, for picking me up ... thank You for my blistered sunrise.