When I moved into Ravenwood, my lawn was the prettiest on the block. Thick. Green. Strong. Healthy.

Naturally, when it became mine, I stopped watering it. Grass wasn't meant to be green year-round. It has dormancy periods. It sings "Don't cry for me Argentina." My grass says it's strong. Therefore, I don't baby it.

Now, almost a year later, my lawn has lost its lushness and gained some prickles.

A couple of weeks ago, clover started settling in my front yard. I like clover. It is nice and green. It is a nitrogen-fixing crop, and it has these pretty yellow flowers.

I like pretty yellow flowers.

So, I let it be. I weeded around it. Yep. I got some nasty dandelions and some of the ugly weeds, but got up from my hands and knees to skip over the clover.

...to watch, in one week's time, its soft green leaves become a sticker-bur bed.

Sticker-burs!

The clover was growing stickers!

Oh snap.

It got me.

It got me good.

I think about scriptural promises a lot when working on the lawn since it's the closest thing I have to a field right now, and in the Old (and New, I suppose, but since we're going through Moses's life in BSF right now, Old is mostly what I'm reading) Testament there's lots of talk about fields. Promises of an inheritance, promises of provision, God teaching the Israelites how to live, and it seems like at every turn, they're reminded of Gen 3:18. "It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field." Ack. Sin.

Ack.
Yak.
Mak.

Sin can be pretty sneaky. It looks good and doesn't appear problematic. You let it in a little, and BAM. Sticker-burs erupt.

And then you start pulling... and noticing the little clover patches that I never saw before because I know what it'll grow up to be.

Stickers.

I'm praying that as I pull these stickers from my yard, the Lord will pull stickers from my life.

From the roots, baby.

I've been trying to run faster.

So, I tie my shoes with a little more purpose.

And tie my hair back knowing this run might hurt.

And find myself saying, “you can do it” under the wheezing.

Because... I'm slow.

Yes.

I really really am.

My snail's pace has never stirred up much bother in my jogger's soul.

But, I've been pretending to run/trot long enough that I now want to be faster and stronger.

Distance has dropped, but my speed is getting better. There are good days and bad days, but I know my muscles will learn.

I’m in a women’s mentoring “class” taught by this woman. She wrote this about running on her blog today. I like it very much.
What she said... I couldn’t have said it better myself. Take a gander.

Remember me?

The non-runner?

The girl who couldn't run more than a couple minutes without wanting to die?

Well...

I ran 6.2 miles last Sunday night.

6.2 miles.

6.2 MILES!

I RAN for one hour and one minute.

It was Easter.

I felt alive.

I felt powerful.

I ran 6.2 miles and Hudson said "mama" for the first time, looking at me, through the back door.

I'll never forget this Easter.

Tomorrow morning, I'll get to celebrate all that God has done, all that He has taught me with a group of women who God has also taught so much and brought so far.

We've learned together what it means to step out in faith.

We've learned together what it means to allow God to grow the fruits of self-control and discipline.

We've felt the sting of pressing on, through the pain.

We've learned to endure, to fix our eyes on the prize.

We've been discouraged.

We've tasted victory.

We've learned the value of one another.

What a journey this race has been and will continue to be.

When we started training, we had only a couple goals...

To learn better what God is talking about in scripture when He uses words like training, press on, endurance, patience, suffering and self-control.

And

To see God do what we thought was once impossible.

I ran 6.2 miles. Who am I? I never in a hundred years saw that coming.

A year ago, if you had approached me and said, "One day, very soon, you will run 6.2 miles," I would have said, "You're so dumb. I don't even own tennis shoes." Then I would have shouted, to everyone standing around, "Someone commit this person. They are insane."

I've seen the impossible become possible.

A few weeks ago, if you had approached most of these women running this race tomorrow and said, "One day, very soon, you will run a 5K," they would have said, "You're so dumb. I HATE running. I will NEVER run. I can't run. I can't."

They have seen the impossible become possible.

Not all the women will be able to run the entire distance.

That's NEVER what this has been about.

But each woman, who has been in training will run further than they EVER thought they could.

Miraculous.

A testimony to God's faithfulness. There IS a reward waiting for every runner.

I have saved one song on my Ipod that will play as I cross the finish line tomorrow...

A Grateful People, by Watermark.

God has done GREAT things.

And my prayer tomorrow, as I watch the power of God displayed in these beautiful women crossing that finish line is this....

God show us what OTHER impossible things you want to make possible in our lives.

I love you ladies!

You're runners!

You are runners!

I'm so thankful to be running this race with YOU...the race we're running tomorrow...and the one we'll be running until the black, dull, hard asphalt turns to beautiful, shimmering gold.

Story time!

Everyone gather 'round.

Sit on your spots. I don't anyone to have to pull their card or sit out of recess...

so, all my good listeners, put your ears and eyes on me.

Over spring break this year, Amy and I went to Denver.
This is Amy.
Isn't she pretty?


We met in Fort Worth the day before and had sushi and bought hiking socks and dreamed happy dreams about snow-capped mountains and cool air.

Amy's best friend from high school let us sat at her house.
Her name is Bianca.
Let's say thank you to Bianca, together.
Ready?
Thank you, Bianca!



Thank you in more ways than one, because once we shook the imaginary dust from our symbolic boots, Bianca took Amy and me to a really fun sandwich shop named after a dog.

Daphny's.

Lots of toys.



And lots of delicious food that made us full.



After handing over the keys to her fiance's car (seriously? wow. let's say it again, Thank you, Bianca!), Amy and I went to the Denver Museum of Art.



It was cool.



It was thought-provoking.



It made us want to create.



It made us want to talk it out.



It made us want to be quiet.





It made us want to say, "wow."



And, "I want to do that!"







And, "This is my favorite!"



And, "You will see this in my house someday."



The art museum had art outside, too.



But, it closes at 6... so we said our goodbyes (the security guard grew up in Muleshoe, Robin!) and went to go watch a play/comedy routine! Hilarious. Denver is so artsy, and I love it.



The next day, Amy and I went hiking.



We got in the truck, and went driving to find...



This...





Earlier, Amy and I stopped by Whole Foods and got some grub: cheese, crackers, turkey and oranges to be consumed while drinking in the prettiest sight in 2009.



Sigh. Isn't it refreshing?



Though, we did have some trouble opening the cheese.



We hiked some in snow.



Before starting the hike, Amy and I stopped by to visit a ranger-type employee of the park service. "What trail should we forge?" we asked....

"Ooooh, is this your first time?" the pretty rangerette asked.

"Yes. Yes it is," we answered. "And we're very excited."

"Well," the rangerette took a breath. "Well, you could hike this or that, or this or that. Or you could hike this. Snow shoes are optional right now."

Optional, we thought.

"Optional?," we questioned.

Month = March




We opted out and went here.



We got turned around a bit.




But we didn't compose our last good byes in preperation of our demise.



We're savvier than that.






We saw a wolf!



And a herd of elk.







It was beautiful.




We went back to Denver, had some gluten-free pizza and went to bed... all so we could wake up refreshed to live in a dream. We visited the Celestial Seasonings tea factory. It was magical. Magical. Magical. My shoulders relax just thinking of the place. Upon arrival, we were welcomed to any tea we wanted. Any tea, and as much as we wanted at that. We went on a tour. We stood in the mint room. I nearly cried. I nearly fainted. It was glorious.



And then we went to Boulder.
Golly. This state just gets better and better.






And then... and then, my friends. It was time to start the wedding party.

The WEDDING PARTY!!!

Because Kendra is now a Clayton. (story to be continued... give me the weekend :) )