NEW LIFE
Ian Andrew Fuchtman was born December 17, 2007. Susan and I couldn’t be there, but we did video chat with Andy and family a few hours after the birth. It was so amazing to see them all and talk with them, even if only on the computer screen.
A week later I was holding the little guy in my own hands. He’s beautiful, smart, easy to talk to, loves jazz and Beethoven, and is an avid Bronco fan. (Well, OK, he likes the Packers too.) What more could you ask?
At one point, out of the blue, I had the coolest experience with God. I don’t know why, but the miracle of Ian’s birth and life washed over me and I felt aware of and close to God in a way I haven’t for some time. I thought of the Book, “He is there and He is not silent.” Somehow holding that little guy ripped right through the doubts and haziness which plague me, and my mind was flooded with experiences I have had with God, and the many times He has graciously pursued a relationship with me, and I remembered afresh why I believe.
There is still a huge gap between the way I live and the way I know I should live; between God’s relationship towards me and mine towards God. But, somehow, the fight seems easier today than before.
WAR IS FOR WARRIORS
Mark left for
We have been sending Mark off on adventures for years: to
Throughout the ages young men have gone off to battle and come home stronger, deeper, better people. This is my hope and prayer.
WHITE ROCK
On December 9 at 12:34 PM I reached a goal I had been working toward for over 5 years. I crossed the finish line of the White Rock Marathon. That step stopped the clock at 3 hours, 33 minutes, and 33 seconds which was good enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon.
Running a marathon, and in the required time is a huge project, but it turned out to be the easiest step towards my goal. I ran 3:14 in
This time around I decided to cut out all fast training (fast, keep in mind, is relative – remember I’m FIFTY years old) and only did easy, tempo, and long runs. That kept me injury-free, but I wondered if it would be enough to meet my time goal. I was prepared mentally too, knowing that the brain can tank a marathon runner as easy as the legs. During the race I thought only positive, happy thoughts – no worries. I gazed around at the turning leaves and beautiful houses, (some of the other runners teased me a bit about site-seeing) chatted with various runners along the way, scampered up the Dolly Partons (two consecutive large hills at mile 19 at which runners are greeted by large men in wigs, dresses and, well, you know) and maintained a positive mind set.
Somewhere around mile 22 things got a little dicey (I’ll spare you the details). At this point in the story I have to tell you that I cannot, no kidding, I cannot do math in my head while I’m running. I checked my stop watch and tried to do the math. I produced a number that was not happy. I tried to do the math again, ending up with a different number, still not a happy one. Several more attempts produced differing results. All of a sudden I was faced with the reality that after all this time, all this careful injury-free training, running 22 positive-in-the-face-of-aching-body miles I could end up missing my time by minutes or even seconds. I chucked the “Positive mindset” and ran like hell.
No worries, I had a full 90 seconds to spare.
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