What We Learn

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I’ve started back running in an effort to get myself back into better shape. After about three days of not running, I knew I needed to get back out, or I was going to have to start over.

So I got myself out the door. But before doing so, my mom told me (clad only in tights, sweatpants, a long sleeve shirt and t shirt) that because it was very cold (probably somewhere around 25-30 degrees, because there was ice all over the ground when I stepped outside) that I should probably wear some more layers and a hat.

Well…I decided that I knew what I was doing and that I was fine.

As I went out the door, the lovely wind God has made decided to greet me with a nice, frigid blast of air. But no matter. “I can do this,” I thought.

And so I began to run. Less than a quarter mile down the road, my hands went numb. Then my face. My ears were next. Finally, by the time I was almost to the half mile mark from home, my legs started freezing up.

Now, in case you don’t know, you’re legs locking up on you while running isn’t a good situation to be in.

Panic started setting in. Not only were my hands clamped around my iPod, unable to move; they were purple. Yes, I said purple. Panting for breath, I started desperately praying, realizing just how stupid I had been. My mom had known exactly what she was talking about.

But did I listen?

No.

I did a quick turnabout, and ended up cutting through a neighbor’s yard to bypass a huge stretch of road. The whole entire run back home, I was praying out loud with each breath, “God, I’m sorry. God, I’m stupid. God, get me back home. God, please don’t let me lose my fingers. I’ll never be able to write again. Please, please, please,” over and over again.

I finally made it back. As I walked to my room, the panic started wearing off because I knew I was safe. I wasn’t going to lose anything or die. I knew that within a matter of 5 minutes, I would be able to feel my ears and my fingers. I would be able to breathe normally, the adrenaline would die down, and soon, I’d be curled up reading, my body working normally.

Two minutes later, my whole body was stinging and burning. It was agony. I knew that the blood and feeling were returning, but it was pure agony. But I knew that I had brought this on myself, so I kept my mouth shut.

Then came the learning. You know, if I had listened to my mom and put on more clothes, a hat, and some gloves, I would’ve been fine. I would’ve been able to run the two miles I had planned on running. But I didn’t listen, and that’s the problem. My mom knew, in this instance, what was best for me, and I didn’t listen. And boy, did I pay for it.

But it made me think – how many times do we hear God say something… and then ignore it, going our own way, just because we think, “Oh, yeah, whatever. I totally know what I’m doing.”

Yeah, that’s what I thought – A LOT.

Two days later, I went out – four layers on top (including a sweatshirt), two layers on the bottom, gloves, hat, and scarf.

I only started to feel the cold as I got up the hill to my house.

It amazed me how much of a difference a few extra pieces of clothing made. I was actually warm. I didn’t feel like I was dying. I didn’t have to hold back tears because of the panic I felt when numbness started to overtake my body, and I had to fight with myself to keep going, trying to get back home before collapsing. I didn’t feel panic or adrenaline. Just a little sweaty from so many clothes. And I wasn’t feeling numb, because I had listened to the wisdom of my mother this time around.

In this instance, my mom reminds me a lot of God. He tells us what we should do, but we ignore Him. In the end, we end up like me – cold, tired, and scared, racing back home and the warmth we know is waiting. But if we had listened to Him in the beginning, we would have skipped the cold, the tiredness, and the fear. We would still be wrapped up securely, confident that we’re prepared for whatever is ahead.

The next time you hear God telling what you should do, don’t go your own way. Go His way. You’ll save yourself a lot of pain and mistakes.

-Audra

P.S. I told my mom I was posting a picture of myself with this. For those of you that know me, I have bangs. They occasionally get long (fancy that… my hair grows…) and I often get called “The Shaggy D.A.” Mom asked me if I was posting a picture where one or two of my eyeballs show.

This picture has two.

I promise, one of these days, I’ll bring you a one eyeball picture.

But you’ll have to wait.

Adios now.