Sunday, February 2, 2014

Blessed are the soul seekers.....

"Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you'll never change."
Lynyrd Skynyrd

Who am I ?
Why am I here?
What am I made of? 

This weekend I volunteered and paced a friend at the Rocky Raccoon 100 trail run.  The race, directed by the warm- hearted team of Joe and Joyce Prusaitis,  tempts those runners who dare to challenge their limits- those who puff their chests with pride, their fat egos dominate and glaring. It calls to the risk takers, the brave hearts, the warriors. 

My soul resonates so soundly with  the distance though because it also beckons the fearful, the humble and the persecuted.  It entices the broken hearted, the damaged, and the meek.  Its siren call lures those who want to wrangle control of their bull headed life, and those escaping the choke hold of addiction.  If it were easy, everyone would do it.....but our life has never been easy, so we accept the challenge of the game with tenacity and grit.  100 miles?  Bring it on life.  We've so got this.

Ironically, the real beauty of the sport reveals itself in the countless hours of the race directors, volunteers, pacers, crew, coaches, friends and family who wholeheartedly support  and give to the runners they love and believe in. They endure heat, cold, hunger and sleeplessness to make sure YOU have what you need to find yourself.  In the process YOU can see your strong. They help YOU become a fearless champion too.
Every time I attend a race I see the beauty of the Holy Spirit rain upon these soul seekers, and in return I am filled with hope.  Ultimately, we all want those we love to see their true potential, their true spirit.  Humans ARE ultimately good, and when we lovingly  support each other, we can do all things strengthened by our source.


  1. In your couple dozen sentences here, you have provided me some clarity to why I enjoy this sport so much. I've spent years building a nice little rule book for living in the comfort zone of a marathon, but I've never experienced a trail run (because it was in my book to avoid).
    In the back half of 2013 my comfortable little book was essentially torn up, stomped on, and finally discarded at Celebration park in Allen, TX. I honestly don't hear that call you write about, but up till now, I haven't allowed myself to listen for it.