Let us throw off everything that hinders

Saturday, April 18 was this year's 3.2 for 32 run, and my second time running. I remember last year, feeling that impostor syndrome when I signed up because I had only run twice that year. Well, I ran zero times between last year's event and this one. But somehow, I knew I'd be able to run it. No impostor feelings now, just a stupid reckless impulsive confidence. Maybe it was the sunshine, but all week long I'd had the feeling that it was going to be a brilliant weekend. Working counter to the Anxiety Narrative (that probably terrible things are in the works at all times), this conviction of grace buoyed me right up to the starting line (my Jackson5 music on the iphone didn't hurt either). What a gift. What a beautiful day.

Before the race, the 32 white balloons are raised for a moment of reflective silence, to remember the 32 lives lost (though in my opinion it really ought to be 33. The gunman was a person too). I got to thinking as we stood in silence, the only sound the pinging of everyone's phones.. Why do we do this?

Why a 5K to remember a massacre? Students were murdered one morning, and we have balloons, flowers, and running? How does this help?

I think what bothers us so much about tragic, early deaths is the apparently meaninglessness. One morning, these people were going about their business, bright futures ahead, and the next day they're gone, because of the darkness in one of their fellow student's soul. And we don't have answers, and this hurts our pride. We are humans! We deserve answers! We deserve meaning! So in the absence of apparent meaning in an event, we make some. We feel we owe it to our fellow humans to make some sense out of their deaths. So we do rituals. And we actually do create meaning. In this way we show a strong family resemblance to God. 

Anyway, once the maroon and orange balloons were elevated and everyone began to cheer, the running part began and I could no longer do philosophy. With music in my ears and with very good company, we set off! 

It was all running from the start to the mid-point, at the football stadium. There, we bottlenecked and I got a couple of pictures.

Into the tunnel, where the football team usually enters.

Silly mid-race selfie. I like the faces behind me, blurry with life energy. 

I do love this portion of the race. You feel like an athlete for this part.

It felt good to have run that. I am convinced I ran faster this year, though I don't remember my time from last year. I surprised myself with how many people I passed, and how many places I felt like stopping and didn't, and how lifted up I was by the people cheering on the sidelines, the pep band playing the the sight of cadets carrying heavy loads like these along the way:



So we do this to make meaning out of tragedy, and we do it to to remind ourselves that, like Momastary says, "We can do hard things."

Other life challenges do seem more manageable after a 5K, somehow. Well, after a 5K and some ibuprofen!

After the race, there was a line at the 4.16 memorial to pay respects to the fallen. I said a breathless prayer.

I hung around the finish line a while, cheering for folks, waving at people I knew as they finished, and got a chance I've been hoping for for years: 

A hug from the Hokie Bird! 

Once my co-workers crossed the line, we had a couple pictures at the finish.

So stylin' with my fanny pack. I will bring them back. 

There's a larger than life significance to a 5K that honors people gone too soon. It does seem important somehow. These words from Hebrews were running in my mind, so I'll end with them:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

I feel lighter now, somehow. Also, sore.

We laugh our way home

Eastertide is a very good time for laughing, dancing, and other breathless acts of joy. 

But first, some artwork from Adele: 

"My Family," by Adele. Miles is the first. Don't we look formidable?!

I saw a poster a few weeks back featuring Maz Jobrani with the news that he would be part of the Islamic Worlds Festival at Virginia Tech, 2015. Maz Jobrani! Actually on campus! We love his stuff and I was thrilled to find we could make a discount date of it with our student IDs. 

Back in January, I made the resolution to make this a year of laughter. What better way to keep it? 

Maz was not the only comedian. I hadn't heard of Maysoon Zayid before this spring, but I watched her Ted Talk before the show to increase my anticipation. She is hilarious! I couldn't wait to be in the same room with her. 

Miraculously, we even got a babysitter. Thank you, Debra! 

The sunset was closing in as we arrived at the Arts Center. I told Jon, "I love living in Blacksburg because we can leave home for an 8:00 event at 7:47, arrive, park, and walk in before it starts." 

The international community in Blacksburg is substantial, but only at certain events do they outnumber American-born folks. This was one. As we arrived, lines of devout Muslims were saying evening prayers before the show began. It was beautiful. 

Neither Maysoon nor Maz disappointed! We were laughing straight through. 

I got giddy halfway through Maz's show. You know the feeling; lightheaded, a bit wheezy, and, for me, triggery. But I remembered my resolution. I took a break, breathed, tuned out... and then tuned back in for a second round. Praise God/Allah.

Saturday night was another brilliant time, as our church was hosting a BBQ/concert. The weather was absolutely perfect. The BBQ was tangy. The band was fun and the turnout exceeded expectations. 

Afterward, the band leader told me, "I thought I was in a Norman Rockwell painting. I expected a sudsy dog to come barreling through any moment. It was just so perfect, with the happy kids and the smiling seniors, and the dancing!" He was right. 

They played 70s rock hits, and I danced with Miles, and some of the other kids who were willing. The kids ran feral in the fenced yard. What a perfect, golden evening. 

The band dedicated their last song to Miles, because he took every chance he get to sneak away and hang out in their tent. He was flabbergasted by the fame! After dancing with me vigorously (the song was "Signed, Sealed and Delivered" by Stevie), he said earnestly, "Thank you for playing my song!" He got a good laugh.

After the band cleared up, we had an after-part in the curate's yard (which backs up to the church). There was a prolonged battle featuring jedi, knights, and good and bad princesses. The adults intervened when things turned tearful or violent (once when a young girl got knocked down and went crying to her mother, another boy was heard to proclaim, "The bad princess is dead!" Some intervention was necessary), but mainly, we enjoyed each other's company. And drank beer. Hallelujah, resurrection sure feels good.

There have been some interruptions to sleep. Miles has been going through a rough stage which missed sleep aggravates: there are tantrums, and just generally a lot of emotion. But we made our butterflies in children's chapel (from coffee filters, Melissa! in manner of Saint Anne LaMott) and the good people at church encouraged me.

The struggle is real. But the struggle is cute, too. 

And there has been sidewalk play, supervised and un. Lots of chalk art has resulted. And the sun has shined on our days.

Learning to blow music from grass

There is so much that is up in the air. So much that feels like life is holding its breath. We do not know much at all about next year.

But if we have to wait, Eastertide seems a good enough time for it.

Holy Week

Holy Week this year was one of the more deliberate and lovely that I've ever had. It was a luxury to be able to give it so much attention; a real grace that I received despite having been perfectly lousy at Lent this year.

Below are the objects I used to teach the Chapel kids about Holy Week, on Palm Sunday. I might have told them that kids say Hosanna better than adults do and might have sent them marching back into church singing Hosanna a bit louder than is usually Episcopal. I regret nothing.

By the way, this is how our Resurrection Garden looked early in Holy Week:

Bearing much fruit

Lighter and lighter the evenings come. This is last Tuesday's 8pm, after I taught my one class (as required in the syllabus). I can see the finish line to this semester and it is taking some discipline to sprint to a premature finish.

Holy Wednesday was our 9th anniversary!

We had a low key time at a local bar that evening, but it was a precious opportunity to talk and enjoy each other. Still, we're making plans to take a trip later in April to celebrate as a family.

Good Friday's sky looked just as it should. 

Thursday night brought us the Grunert Grandparents! We really enjoyed catching up with them, and the kids, needless to say, looooved the attention. At one point, one grandparent was reading to each child, the book of each's choice. Heaven!

I made a slap-dash Christ candle this year. Little efforts at beauty make a difference in one's happiness, don't they?

The Grunerts and Michaela & Marshall joined us for the Smithfield Plantation Egg Hunt. It was precious family time!

Miles was Adele's hunting dog during the Chick Hunt. He would point at eggs, and she'd pick them up. 

Obligatory Smithfield fence picture:

Besties

Miles at the takeoff. He's serious. 

Proud. 

Cuddling with Aunt & Uncle:

watching the blacksmith

Rock pizzas! She's practicing for the "Pizza Shelter" she plans to own when she grows up

Easter morning comes early when you attend the Great Vigil at 6am!

I just breathe this service in. I love the darkness, the fire, the incense, the chanting. I love not being able to see the spring flowers covering the alter but knowing they are there. I love the Old Testament readings and the candles, and I sure love that Easter acclamation and the lights coming on! Alleluia! 

Miles & the other choristers were singing in the 8:30 service, so we stayed for that. But I sneaked out early because I was just flat out too tired to stand up any longer. Fortunately, the egg hunt outside revived me. 

Below, Adele hunts in the sandbox with the other littles, while the bigs have just been released. Look at them charge! See Miles with his hat?

See Miles' ears on his hat?

Showing off their loot. There were a LOT of eggs. 

After church, we all had a nap! Easter miracle!

And later on, the kids (including my inner kid) all did chalk drawings with our new chalk from Grandma & Grandpa Grunert. Thank you!!

A night sky

Below, Adele and my photoshoot. People kept saying we matched. I didn't see the dresses matching, but our attitudes do.

She is my pretty little dutchess. And by the way, when she is grown, there will be a pizza shelter in NYC one day with a huge rainbow painted bus parked out front; that'll be where you'll find Adele if her plans pan out. 

Miles marches boldly into Eastertide this morning. It was sunny and warm already! 

This 50 days promise much! I will try to take them one at a time.