SHOUT-

Wake up. Run. Starbucks, Work twelve hours. Class. Sleep Wake up. Run. Homework. Starbucks. Work twelve hours. Class. Sleep. Wake up. On Sunday there is church.   Everyday is the same. I am like a robot with goals. Lately I have had the nerve to start feeling a little sorry for myself, because I am more tired than usual. I am more frustrated than usual. It seems to be getting more and more difficult to live in the dotted in-betweens of my life’s timeline. I don’t complain, ever, because I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I don’t want God to think that I don’t appreciate everything I have, including the opportunity to exhaust myself, because I do; but I was praying the other night, and God knows my heart, which made me realize because I don’t vent the feelings out loud does not mean they don’t exist. I try to purge them when I run…with every step I take I try to pound out the weight of the emotions, but it doesn’t work the way it used too- maybe because when you run from something, all you’re really doing is giving it the chance to follow you.   I wouldn’t give up any of the things I do if I had the chance, but maybe I should. I know God will slow me down when it is time for me to take a step back, but until he does I just pray for the energy to get through. I don’t know if energy is enough anymore. I want to feel alive, connected. I need something to slap me in the face to remind me, “You chose this.”   Everyone has someone they look at as an inspiration in one form or another. That person has something they possess that makes a person stop and say, “I don’t know what that is (or maybe I do) but I want that.” For many people it is Oprah, or a sports star, a famous speaker or an actress; but for me, it is this man I pass on my runs all the time. We always wave, and he is always smiling long before he sees me, but the other day I was able to see him in motion, while I was standing still. I had just finished my run and was stretching in the driveway when I heard this noise. It was far away so it was hard to make out, like the sound of your alarm clock when you finally wake up and realize you have been listening to this noise for five minutes. I see the running man coming towards me and realize the noise is coming from him. He is singing along to a song on his ipod, a song that only he can hear, and I have never seen a person more oblivious to the world around him than this man was at that moment. He was almost yelling, and I realized he was saying, “shout”. It took me two seconds to realize what song he was singing, and in the weirdest way, I was now singing along to his song too.  I caught myself standing there for a couple of minutes, watching this man and listening to him until he was out of sight. I was taken a back when I realized that was the first time I had just – stopped- for two minutes, in longer than I can remember. I literally cannot remember the last time I was just- still-. I don’t know what that man’s story is. His life might be as hectic and stressful as mine, but whatever he does everyday, whatever his schedule looks like, it includes a run around the lake, singing to a song only he can hear. I want that.   I prayed a different prayer today, one that is probably more honest, and it made me feel better. I stopped in the middle of my run and prayed- “Lord, I am tired. I don’t know what it is, or where I started to slow down and burn out, but I did, and I need your help to reconnect with my life. I want to be present, and I want to be inspired, and I want to go back to the days I was busy, but excited to be working towards a dream. My dream. My song. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Amen”   I kept running. I had run a mile and half when it occurred to me, I ust rana mile and half, smiling, thinking about something that had nothing to do with anything I needed to purge on the pavement. It felt good. It made me want to shout.