Running, Shadows & John Mayer

Recently, I went for a nighttime run. Confident I'd be home before absolute dark, I did not take my phone or my inconvenient pepper spray. When I reached the turn for home, I realized it was already darker than I anticipated and not as well-lit. I could have sworn there were more street lights along this route.

Aware now of every breath, every pad-pad of my feet falling on pavement and the sweat running down my back and forehead, my running became more labored. Glancing around with each new sound, I became ultra aware of my surroundings, birds in bushes, crickets, unidentifiable sounds.

And then, I spotted a man in a pick up truck who seemed to be watching me more than he should. Anticipating where I would run next, he drove forward, just a little. He did this a couple of times, and my heightened senses plus fatigue plus fear swallowed up my courage and rational thinking. I was a running mess of fear.

I turned a corner, shot backward glances to see if he was still following. No sign.

By this time, as if I were in a haunted forest, everything around me spooked me. I looked at the sidewalk, gasped and made a noise that came from the back of my throat: there was my shadow, and then ... one more! He was chasing me!

Within seconds, I realized the second shadow was also mine. I cannot express how relieved and stupid I felt. I looked up to see what lighting could cause this phenomenon, but I couldn't figure it out, and I'm still not sure how I had a double shadow.

For the next half mile home, I forced myself to stay aware of my surroundings and plan what to do should something bad actually happen.

And then I would see the second shadow and relive the terror again! I could not stop the inward jolt of fear at the sight of the shadows, but each time I reacted, I was frustrated with myself. "It's just a shadow. It's YOUR shadow--why are you so skittish? This is stupid. Just. Run." I was never so glad to reach my door.

Throughout my shower, my thoughts went two directions: First, I would never be so stupid again as to run at night without telling anyone where I was going, with no phone or spray. Ridiculous! Second, the double shadows--how did that happen? Why could I never get myself to stop reacting as if someone were chasing me? Why was I afraid of harmless shadows? I thought about how silly it was to be afraid of something I knew couldn't hurt me, and yet I couldn't stop looking at it, as if it could change form. It was powerless, even something I inadvertently created, and yet it had the power to distract me, slow me, scare me, take my mind off of my goal--get home as fast as possible.

My fear seemed to wash off me like the suds in the drain.

And then I thought about shadows in another sense--shadows as the events or people or fears that compel us to take our eyes and hearts off of goals, that distract us, scare us.

Past failures can be shadows.
Personal shortcomings, too.
People who hurt us or shamed us can be shadows.
Fear of the future or unknown can taunt us.

We may have done things in our lives that inadvertently created the shadows, but if only we could see that they are powerless when we see them for what they are: flimsy reflections behind us. They do not define us. They have no bearing on how we live, if we do not give them the power to haunt us. They don't predict what's ahead; they only report what was, and sometimes the shadows themselves are distorted, not a true representation of us, anyway.

I love John Mayer's "Shadow Days," especially these lyrics:

I'm a good man with a good heart
Had a tough time, got a rough start
But I finally learned to let it go
Now I'm right here and I'm right now
And I'm open knowing somehow
That my shadow days are over
My shadow days are over now.


May all of our shadow days be over. We do not have to live with them dogging us, controlling us. We have to learn to let them go, look straight ahead, and run our race the way we were meant to.

Column in Muncie Star Press Today

I re-worked the wisdom tooth extraction experience for my column today. I'm copying it here because you can only link to the articles on line free for 7 days, so instead I'll to link to this post for the archive. The last thing I want to do is pay to get to my own words!

Twenty-two years ago, I had two wisdom teeth pulled. Because the whole ordeal wasn't a picnic, I decided to wait a while to have the others removed.

"A while" became 22 years.

In spite of meticulous brushing, flossing and even whitening, the remaining "wizzies" had to go. My dentist said there was nothing I could've done to avoid the surgery; the very nature of these nonessential, problematic teeth demanded that they go.

Driving home, I remembered his words, "It's the nature of the tooth, its anatomy, its physiology. It's just naturally bad."

Something being naturally bad made me think of sin.

I remembered a time when I hid sin similar to these teeth, keeping my secrets tucked so far back into the recesses of who I was that there was no danger of people seeing my misery. I practiced all of the spiritual disciplines -- reading scripture, attending church and serving others, but still, I hid my pain, thinking, "I'll take care of this at some point-just not yet."

Eventually, I realized as long as I harbored one unrepented sin, all the "whitening" in the world was either just for show or a half-hearted, prideful attempt to patch a serious problem. Living in denial about the state of my heart became a way of life. It hurt to expose flaws and release long-held anger, but it was necessary. And in the end, it was the best thing for me.

Although I knew I would feel some discomfort after this extraction, I trusted this surgeon -- unlike my father-in-law, who continually offers to perform all kinds of medical procedures fast and cheap for his family, and no, he's not a doctor! This surgeon didn't appear to have a sadistic bone in his body. He listened to all my fears and reassured me. I was in good hands.

Likewise, I know that when I release my grip on an ancient grudge or heartache, at first, it won't feel good. I might feel like I've "lost" somehow. But that's not so. The truth is, being set free from decaying forces in my life is the best thing for me.

And I trust my God. He wants to excise whatever harms me and drives a wedge between us. When I'm scared to turn over my hang-ups to him, he listens to my fears and reassures me. When life hurts, I could resort to all sorts of crazy methods to treat myself, but the truth is, he is the only one who can truly set me free. I cannot help myself. I will always need a savior.

Right now, my front teeth look great, but don't come too close! The inside of my mouth looks and smells like walking death. I'm reminded of Matthew 23:27, where Jesus warned, "You Pharisees and teachers are in for trouble! You're nothing but show-offs. You're like tombs that have been whitewashed. On the outside they are beautiful, but inside they are full of bones and filth." Yet I am comforted by Isaiah 1:18: "I, the Lord, invite you to come and talk it over. Your sins are scarlet red, but they will be whiter than snow."

To be human is to be naturally inclined to disobey, even though we know we are digging our own graves. When God says, "It's time for this rot to go," I have to remember to trust in his mercy and unfailing kindness toward me. Even though there's much value in doing good, no regiment of noble behaviors or charitable endeavors can purify my inner self. Therefore, to kick off this month of thanksgiving, I'm declaring my thanks to God for exchanging real life for my decay, for trading his joy for my sorrow. Great is your faithfulness, O God!

Linda Crow, of Muncie, is the mother of three teenagers and works in youth ministry. Visit her blog at www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com.
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Originally published November 3, 2007

Mid-night Ramblings and Getting Out of the Boat

*Edit: For some reason, none of my links are working. I'll try again tomorrow.

It's 4:05 a.m.

I woke up a while ago and tried to go back to sleep. I couldn't, so I prayed (for Nate--I'm wondering, "Could he be waking up now?")

I also prayed for other people and about my upcoming talk on November 30.

Once my talk sprang to mind, there was no going back (to sleep).

Yikes. What have I gotten myself into?

Actually, I have been very excited about this, but when I hit my personal deadline (yesterday) to seriously get started on it, suddenly, fear set in.

For example, one of my tasks for Nov. 1st was to start making calls to people. When I sat down in the afternoon to start, I had to pray for courage--to call people who are NOT strangers, who are NICE people, whom I had no reason to fear. (Wow. How did I manage to write a sentence with two who's and a whom? I don't know if my grammar's correct, but give me a break, it's ... 4:13 a.m.)

Well, I did make a lot of calls, and being the nice women that they are, no one made me feel bad in any way. What was I scared of?

Wait a minute--"What Was I Scared Of" is a Seuss book I just read Wednesday night in our sanctuary to kids who were gathered around me. The pictures were on PowerPoint for the adults to read along. Our church is in a "Gospel According to Dr. Seuss" series, so before the pastors launch into spiritual applications, the adults have to know about the Seuss story, so that's why I'm reading in front of everyone. I cannot express how much I enjoy reading out loud. It's a strange predilection that I share with my good friend, Madelyn. She and I are always saying, "Is there a college major in this, because had I known about it, I would've been all over that!" (Geeks!)

Anyway. The whole point of the story and of our pastor's application is that you have to face your fears if you really want to live a full life. We hold onto the hope spoken of in Romans 5. Like Peter, we need to keep our eyes on Jesus and if Jesus is calling us out of the boat, get out.

Good stuff.

Interestingly, yesterday I purchased the book we're currently reading in our Women of Influence group (a book or two a month + food + discussion, in a home) and it's entitled, "If You Want to Walk on Water, You've Got to Get out of the Boat," by John Ortberg.

He begins with Peter, who responded to Jesus' invitation to get out of the boat and walk to him, and Peter's confirmation of that call and then his brave step out in the middle of a raging storm in which the boat appeared to be the only safe place to be.

Hmmm. Am I detecting a theme? Is it a coincidence that the first encouragement happened the night before my deadline and the second happened the day of?

Anyway, I am afraid. I'm afraid I've bitten off more than I could chew, that I will let the organizers down, the attendees down, that PowerPoint will fail that night, that I will go too long and bore people, that I won't get enough material, that I won't be able to piece it together coherently, that some won't see it's relevance, that if I fail, I'm going to do it in front of a lot of people ....

So I'm asking God to help me face my fears. It's not a life or death situation; I know that. All the same, public speaking is a little scary, even for people who enjoy it.

I've stepped out of the boat, and now I need to stay above water by keeping my eyes focused on Jesus and not the waves around me. I just think the timing of encouragement could not have been better for me.

Thanks, God.

PS: If for some reason you want to hear me read "What Was I Scared Of?" the audio portion is posted here. The only Seuss story there I haven't read is "Oh the Places You'll Go," because friend and co-worker Christy filled in when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. Notes for the congregation are also posted there.