Intentionally Steady

The jog outside in the crisp winter air a couple Monday mornings ago was NOT ideal! That was the week I decided "no more indoor workouts on the elliptical; I want to get outside." I miss the freshness and the beauty of going somewhere when I run, but my path was covered. The sidewalks were still piled high with the snow we got last week. I was so grateful for snow - twice in one week! Right up until the point I realized there was no place to run. Even with a chill still lingering in the air, the temperature was finally warm enough to brave the outdoors. And I was finally over my chest cold. 

By Wednesday, the paths were maybe half clear, but I had to make up a new route, because my favorite, the pond, was ice and snow covered. 

On Friday, I took a route from years ago. In the opposite direction of the pond. It looked clear when I started out, but little did I know the conditions that awaited me.

Sidewalks still snow covered and scattered with patches of ice. 
So I jogged along streets in the neighborhood.


With no idea where halfway or any other point could be found,
I had just started running and kept going until the timer when off.

Those days I jogged a route so unlike my normal path, my normal routine - the one that goes around the pond.

The one I like because it is 
and predictable. 

I know EXACTLY how long that path takes, and 
where I am along that journey.

My jogging dilemma. My analogy of this point in my life. I long for the safe, beautiful, and predictable. Probably because I sometimes still think that only safe and predictable is beautiful.

But the path I find myself on is uncharted territory.

And yet just like it was so refreshing to get out in the winter air - praying, worshiping, and realizing how much I longed for the outdoor jog after being stuck indoors for workouts last week - I realized I can still enjoy the life journey. 

I had gone out.
And it wasn't the same.
Yet it was beautiful.
How l longed for the pond - the usual route.
Not having to think about where I stepped.

I had to be intentional,
light on my feet
so I could stay steady
on not land with my face on the ground.

I couldn't run full speed ahead,
without thinking,
just going on automatic.
I had to be intentional
about where I chose to step 
and how much weight I put down.

I needed to steady my feet.


Firmly fixed in a place,
solidly settled IN someone
not subject to change.

That is my word for the year. And those mornings runs outside seemed anything but steady. 

Lines of a song echo, "Shepherd of my heart - take my hand and lead me on." And other lyrics resonate, "And my heart will stay steadfast - I know that you are good."