Running Through the Pain

Today I ran a two-mile race at Buffalo Springs Lake. It was cold and early and gross and yuck and awful. These were my feelings when I got there at 8:30 a.m. The race started at 9. Mr. Bish had asked me who I was running for the night before and honestly I didn't know. My Facebook Newsfeed was inundated with pain. One of the reasons I haven't posted lately is because there are so many people hurting. I haven't dedicated a week to a person in a while because I didn't know how to choose.

So this morning at 8:30 a.m. I got mad.

I'm mad at what has happened to Paris.

I'm mad at what happened to Malori Maddox.

I'm mad that there are literally hundreds of thousands of babies out there suffering anguish, pain and won't ever know what a "normal" life is like.

I'm just mad.

I'm not usually good at channeling my anger into proper motivational channels. I usually just shut down and refuse to do anything. So the starting line wasn't a good place to be at 9 a.m. But I was already there.

So I ran. I didn't run long or far but I ran.

I ran because bad things happen to good people.

I ran because life can be unfair.

I ran because it's so easy to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I ran because it's easy to let hate and darkness consume you and I didn't want the darkness to win.

I ran because all the elementary-aged children sprinting around me, and driving me nuts, were able to be carefree because of heroes who died overseas.

And I ran for me.

I ran to channel the pain, anger, irritability, bad attitude, ungratefulness, selfishness and unrest into something productive.

Because I have yet to experience parental anguish that I witness on Facebook every day. I don't have to watch my baby go through chemotherapy right now. I don't have to hit my knees begging God to save my child right now. I hope I display the strength that I see from so many awesome parents like Stacy Halstead, Hannah Peters, Miguel's mom and so many others.

So now, despite the pain that I haven't quite accepted, I will have a peaceful day. I rocked my baby for an hour just because I can and I am blessed. I sang all his favorite songs, did all his favorite things, let him pull my hair and slap my face because he's amazing and perfect and isn't suffering. And while I can't shield him from the hateful world, I can do my best to let him see that peace and happiness is attainable. Whether in this life or the next.

Be blessed today, friends, and pray for those enduring tragedy.