From One Family to Another

   God has blessed me so abundantly this year with an incredible family. Of course my mom and dad and brothers(and sister-in-laws) have always been a true blessing for me but I'm talking about the family I've found here in England.

This year's community was absolutely extraordinary, we grew so close throughout our 11 months together. The year(or two) has gone so quickly but the friendships grew even faster.  Yes, it is sad to wave goodbye to everyone(which I have done as I'm one of the last ones left here) but in my heart, I know that we have built such a strong bond, I have no doubt that I will see this family again.
  So as we bid farewell to our brothers and sisters here, we get ready to be welcomed back into our families at home.  I pray that the embrace is warm and the conversation is heartfelt.

In short, I'M COMING HOME TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Boys, I mean...Men of SPEC

Ever-Beautiful Ladies of SPEC

One big happy family!

Coming down from the mountain

   The past few weeks have been filled with lots of laughter, hard work, cleaning up, winding down, last retreats, first goodbyes, frustration(in packing), jubilation, reflection, but most importantly, joy. As I write this, I think back over the past two years and I realize just how quickly the time has gone.  Today is our last day in community. Our last meals together, our last prayers together, our last songs together, our last time together.  Last Wednesday, when we had our last retreat, it hadn't quite hit me yet that it was my very last day of working with young people here.  Thursday was a fun community day where we went to Top Golf, the awesome driving range we went to at the end of last year, and the afternoon was a time of reminiscing over the memories of the year. Friday we drove to Walsingham, to visit the national Marion Shrine, which was built to be "England's Nazareth"(more about that later).  Saturday was a free day so I worked on packing up my room and Sunday after we all went to Mass in London Colney, we had a big picnic. Because of the looming rain we stayed closed and set up on one of our nice lawns. After the picnic, we had a talent show which was an opportunity for anyone to showcase talents they'd acquired over the year, particularly things that the different teams had put together to show during retreat talent shows.  Monday was a chill day and in the evening we all jumped in cars and headed for the cinema to see Ice Age 4(in 3-D!).  Yes, it's a kids movie. Yes, we still absolutely loved it.  Yesterday was a day of affirmations, we spent the afternoon writing notes to everyone in community telling them what we love about them and have enjoyed about them over the year.  My favourite part was how we finished the day off- with a campfire!(complete with s'mores!)

And that brings us to today.  A day of closure. A day of reflection. A day of peace.
Father Michael O'Boy, who is the Director of the Agency for Evangelisation for the Westminster Diocese(which means he works in Westminster Cathedral as well as with us at SPEC sometimes), is with us today to help us prepare. This morning he shared some of his story with us and asked us to reflect on Psalm 27:4. 

One thing I asked of the Lord, 
that will I seek after: 
to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, 
to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple.

He talked about how this story, this kind of intimacy with the Lord but even more honestly, the striving after it, that is the only story worth sharing.  He talked about how the two disciples on the road to Emmaus lived such a story. "Didn't our hearts burn within us as he talked to us on the road."  Fr. Michael talked about the same desire in Psalm 42.  To live in God's presence is described as a physical thirst. "As a doe longs for running streams, so longs my soul for you, my God." In Psalm 84, a day in his house, in his presence, is worth more than a thousand elsewhere.

He then challenged us with the question of, "What then, is it, to live in the house of the Lord?"

After sharing some more stories of his journey, he said something that will stick with me for a long time. He said, "The challenge for us is to set our faces like flint, to with Christ that God- not man, with all his plans and expectations-will deliver.  Father, into your hand I commit my Spirit-my dreams, my hopes and my fears, my expectations.  This is what it means to live in the House of the Lord."

We had our last community Mass before lunch. The energy in the room was incredible. The last song we sang was Here I am, Lord, which is one of my favorite hymns and gives me shivers down my spine every time we sing it here.  This year's community is so musically gifted that quite often there will be 4 or 6 part harmonies that come out when we're singing in the chapel.  I was sat at the back for the Mass but in that moment, I couldn't help but walk to the front to stand by Jess(one of the other second-year volunteers) so I could hear the beautiful sound in its entirety.  As I stood there with my arm around her, I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of all the voices joining together in absolute perfect harmony.  It was as if time stood still and the music kept playing. I thought to myself, this will be one of the moments I will never forget.  Surrounded by my God-loving and Spirit-living family, pouring our hearts out into the music, it can't get much better than this.

  After lunch we came back together for a second session. Father Michael started by sharing some of his most memorable milestones in his life. As he shared he talked about how increasingly, life becomes not about the moments, but about the people.  There's no question that the people around us shape us whether its in their unique little mannerisms that we pick up or their way of thinking that you become so accustomed to that it soon becomes your own. Moments we so often try to capture by taking pictures but with people, how can we capture the high that they take us to?
   Father Michael said that the Transfiguration is only part of the story, that the disciples didn't just see Jesus in all his glory then just stop there.  We could ask ourselves why wouldn't Christ want us to stay on top of the mountain, gazing at him? Well, because if we stayed on the mountain forever, nothing down in the city would change. We must come down from the mountain, just as the disciples did. We leave the mountain with questions but that's how it should be, that's how it was for the disciples.  We may also realize that coming down from the mountain, sometimes you might feel like you're alone, but in reality, you're never alone. Even though we might be the only ones coming down and going to each of our homes after SPEC, we still know that our brothers and sisters around the world are coming down with us.
  Father Michael continued with the Gospel where it says "Leave the dead to bury their dead and to come follow me."  Jesus said if you look back, don't bother coming after me, you are not worthy.  To some that may sound harsh, but really he's just telling us we must always look forward.  Let the past be the past and look with eagerness to the future. As one who keeps sentimental things to try to remember all the good times of the past, I am learning more and more everyday the importance and beauty of looking ahead.

  After our second session, we did something really beautiful called a Eucharistic Procession. Father held up the monstrance, with the Body of Christ in it just as in Adoration, and as we walked around the grounds, he blessed all our fields and the buildings. I know to some, this may sound very odd but let me tell you, it was one of the most powerful things I've witnessed in a long time.  First, it was pouring rain, so Anthony(tallest and strongest in community) walked behind Father Michael, holding an umbrella to keep him and the monstrance from getting wet.  As we walked, Nick played the guitar and we sang.   We were singing How Great is Our God which we often add in a chorus of How Great Thou Art in at the end and we were standing in front of Loft Towers.  Just as Father raised the monstrance, it started to downpour even harder. As we sang those words to my absolute favorite hymn, How Great Thou Art, I stood there, hood down, soaking in the rain and the beauty. Just then, out of nowhere, an orange butterfly came fluttering by. I watched with a big smile on my face as it flew up and down and back towards the bush behind me and it was then that I noticed Rebekah, one of our English girls, watching the exact same thing, with the exact same smile on her face. We looked at each other and for a brief moment, we shared a feeling of absolute pure joy from the beauty of the simplicity of the moment that actually I could feel all the way down my spine down into my toes. There's no other way I can think to describe that moment other than...beautiful. I thought to myself, "Man, God sure created a lovely world." It's funny how it can take something so simple to remind us of something so grand.
I will forever remember that afternoon. And I will forever remember that butterfly.

   So as I prepare to come down from the mountain and head back into the city, I find myself rather eager for what lies ahead. I actually have no idea what lies ahead for me except that I'm coming home July 23 and taking some time to settle in and just work for my parents until I discover where God is calling me next. I'm eager to see friends and family that I have missed for the past two years. I'm eager to get to the land of sunshine and leave the rain behind for awhile. I'm eager to see my niece(2 1/2 years old) and nephew (4 1/2 years old), I know they will have grown so much. I'm eager to find a way to continue the practices I've learned here and apply them to my life at home. But mostly, I am eager to continue on my journey, everyday looking for that beauty in this Creation and everyday learning how I can be Christ's hands and feet in the world around me.

And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us...

   June 10, 2012. The morning of my first Half Marathon. I wake up with a mix of emotions: a load of excitement, a dash of worry, and a tinge of nervousness. I had been training for over two and a half months, running nearly every morning and the big day was finally here. I wasn't worried about what time I was going to finish in, I was just aiming to finish full stop.
  The few days before I wasn't feeling in tip top shape which made me a little uneasy about the idea of going for such a long distance. But I had waited for this day for so long, I wasn't about to back out. Besides, it was the first morning in two weeks that it wasn't raining and the sun was actually shining so I wanted to make the most out of the day.
  As we hopped on the bus to head for St. Albans, Anthony(who came along for emotional support and to cheer me in)assured me that everything was going to be just fine. As we get to St. Albans I start seeing more and more people all decked out in their running gear, heading towards Veralamium Park, where the race would start.

  As we entered "Runner's Village," I was overwhelmed by the number of people who came out for the event.  There were 2,900 runners (900 more than last year they said) and all the funds were going to two main charities, Everyman and the Willow Foundation, as well as a few other local charities.  Everyman is part of the Institute of Cancer Research and has been responsible for many of the groundbreaking discoveries in both Testicular and Prostate cancer.  The Willow Foundation is the only national charity that provides psychological and emotional support for seriously ill 16-40 year olds by giving them life-enhancing special day experiences.  What better way to get some exercise than to run for a cause?
  My brother Justin and his wife Julie have run in lots of marathons before and I'd always wondered what it felt like on the race day.  As I looked around I saw such an incredibly diverse bunch of people. There were young, fit and healthy looking runners with top of the line running gear, there were some younger runners milling around who had run in the Kids Fun-Run as well as the 5k earlier that morning. But most impressively, as I scanned the crowd I saw lots of older adults getting ready. And when I say older I mean about 75 years old, if not older still. I was blown away!

Let's DO this thang!

  I had just enough time to get stretched and warmed up then I heard them announce over the loudspeaker that it was time to head to the starting boxes. I'll be honest, I felt pretty clueless to what I was doing. It seemed that no one else was even worried, it was like they'd done this a million times before.  I made my way towards the back of the starting line, where those who were expecting to finish in 2 hours and 45 minutes or more were meant to start.  I had no idea what time I was expecting to finish. I just wanted to finish.  The most I had run earlier that week was about 9 miles, and I finished that in about an hour and 15 minutes but I wasn't too sure how quick I was going to be that day.

  Found my place in the box, 1 minute 30 second warning til the start... I bent down to tighten my laces, 30 seconds til the start...I looked around at everyone gearing up, the thrill of it all apparent in the buzz of encouraging conversations and people giving last-minute advice... countdown 10...9...8...I look at my watch-man, they sure do start right on time...7...6...5...4...oh man, I should've used the loo but the queue was horrendous!...2...1...GO!.....aaaaand we didn't move. For some reason I was imagining everyone breaking into a full-speed run all at once like a horse race or something. But of course, it wasn't quite like that as we had to wait for those more experienced runners up front to get moving before we could even budge. About 10-12 seconds later we finally started going and as we walked to the start line, I looked out ahead at the huge throng of people in front of me-I couldn't believe how many people I was running with! It was an incredible sight.

  The first part of the run was a lovely path through Veralamium Park then out on the other side and headed up the streets towards one of the golf courses.  Most of it was uphill and I couldn't believe how out-of-breath I already was.  I was running alongside a couple of older ladies when we finally passed the fluorescent yellow "1 mile" marker- I looked over at them and said, "ONE mile?! That's IT?!? Oy vey. It's gonna be a long morning."  One of them smiled and said, "Yes, yes it is" and we shared a laugh.
  Before I knew it I was passing mile marker 3 and it was just after that when I saw a group of goofy younger guys on the side of the trail that had come out to cheer people on. Every time a group of runners came past they would do "the Wave" and make lots of noise. They were in the process of making up a cheer, struggling to find words that rhymed, but were still paying attention to make sure no runner passing them went unnoticed.  As I passed them, I started laughing and said to the guy running next to me(mid-30's I guessed), "I wonder if anyone tips them for their entertainment."  The guy looked back at me and said, "There's nothin' like seeing something that makes you smile when you're doing something that never makes you smile."  I replied, "Not a big fan of running, eh?" Nope. I asked him if it was the first Half Marathon he'd run and he said he'd been challenged at work to do it.  The most he'd ever run at once was 10 miles a couple years ago but he'd been practicing with 4-mile runs a couple times a week so he was trying to make it 4 miles before slowing down for a break. I thought that sounded like a grand short-term plan, so we ran together until mile 4 then slowed down a bit and got some water at the water point.
  We continued running together for awhile and chatting a little bit along the way.  At one point he said he was gonna slow down for a bit but told me to go on and he'd catch up with me later.  
  Pretty soon I passed mile marker 6-almost half way! I thought to myself "I'm not dead! I can do this!"  Just then there was a few of us that passed a group of people out to cheer us on and as I smiled at them, one of the ladies yelled out "Good job 2629,(I thought, hey-that's my number!) keep it up!"  I smiled even bigger.
    At mile 7, we were running up a little hill and I came upon this old guy who had to have been in his 80's and he seemed to be struggling a bit. In a nice baby yellow polo shirt and tall white socks he was halfway between a walk and a run, trying to get himself up the hill. All of the sudden I started thinking, oh no, what if he can't make it. What do I do? Just then he pulled back a little and cut across and went off the trail onto a public footpath that led through the trees.  Of course then my mind started racing, "What if he passes out there?! Nobody will know where he is! There are no marshals right here! What if he has a heart attack?! What do I do!? I don't know how much of my First Aid training I even remember!" I looked back a few times, hoping to see him back on the trail.  I quickly started saying a prayer for him in my head, "Dear Lord, please keep that cute old man in the yellow polo shirt safe. Help his body to stay hydrated and help him to not pass out. Lord, please just help him to make it to the end of the race." And just then, who should come whizzing past me but that little old man in the yellow polo shirt. He ran right past me! Thank you, dear Lord, for the smile on that man's face.  (My guess is that he needed the loo and thus veered off the path into the trees.) 
   Mile 8- grabbed a cup of water and kept running. By this point we'd ran up to the golf course and continued on through the countryside, past some pubs(no, I didn't have time to stop in for a pint) and down some bridleways(a.k.a. horse carriage lanes). At this point I actually had no idea where I was, but it sure was some beautiful scenery to look at.
    We came to a bridge that crossed over the M25(the busy motorway that circles around London, also known as the world's greatest carpark) and I saw an older lady(probably about 65 years old or so)who had passed me some time earlier with her phone out taking a picture of the road sign down below. I smiled and said, "That's a good shot" and she replied, "I need it for proof that I've made it this far!"  She was so cute. And she was definitely in better shape than I was.
   Mile 10. Getting so close. And so sick of all these hills.
   Mile 11.  I can't believe I've almost made it... Man, these neighbourhoods are beautiful.
   Mile 12. Last water station- I grabbed one and kept running. No more slowin' down for me!
   I could start to hear the announcers voices over the speakers as we entered the park, I knew it was all downhill from here. There were even more people out on the sidelines, cheering us on "Last mile! Go! Go! Go!"
  As the big FINISH line started to come into view, I said to the lady next to me, "Now that is a beautiful sight." She agreed.
   I got to the last little downhill slope and into the fenced chute they had leading up to the finish line...the adrenaline kicked it into high gear and I started sprinting. It was as if my legs had detached themselves from the rest of me and were doing their own thing. I could barely feel them! I spotted Anthony about 10 feet before the finish line, leaning over the railing and holding his camera high in one hand to make sure he got it on video and his other hand out for a high-five. I slapped his hand as hard as I could and said "Yeehaw!" and kept pushing as fast  as I could all the way through the finish.
YES! I. made. it.
  As I slowed down I could feel my legs starting to turn to jell-o. There were little girls handing out the medals and as I took one from a cute little blonde girl, with curly pigtails and missing front teeth, I laughed and said "Thank you, my lovely." Honestly, I don't recall ever winning a medal for any sport in my life.  The last time I won a medal was for my sewing project in 4-H (a blue first place medal, mind you), but I have to admit, I felt I had accomplished so much more for this one as I looked at the golden medal with a bright yellow ribbon I held in my hands. There were also people handing out t-shirts(awesome!), ice lollies(popsicles) and bottles of Lucozade(kinda like Gatorade). Man, they know how to make you feel like you earned your winnings well.
   As I stood there enjoying every bite of my ice lolly, I waited anxiously at the finish line, watching for the guy in the yellow polo shirt and for my friend from mile 4 to cross. Sure enough, just a couple minutes after me, here comes the guy in the yellow shirt just cruisin' right in and just behind him, the guy from mile 4. A feeling of relief swept over me.  He made it without passing out! And the other guy did too!  As mile 4 guy walked towards his friends that were right next to us, I shouted out to him, "Hey we made it!" He smiled and said, "My name's Charlie. Thanks for running with me and keeping me goin." We shook hands and he jumped into his pile of friends who were congratulating him.
   My official finish time was 2:23:38-just under the average 2:30 for that course. I couldn't believe it!  I never imagined I'd be able to run 13.1 miles and actually enjoy it!  Though I will let you in on a little secret...it's MUCH easier to run at 250 ft. above sea level than it is 4,500 ft.(Lewistown's elevation). I've discovered that my lungs truly do appreciate the air that's not quite so thin, thus making running a rather enjoyable experience for me.
  The amount of love and support I saw that day was insurmountable. There were so many people that came out along the trail to cheer us on, including Scouts and young men and women from the military. The way everyone was encouraging to everyone, not just the people they knew, was such an uplifting thing to see.  

  Besides getting a wicked awesome medal and a rockin' t-shirt, I can officially check off one of the things on my list of things to do in my lifetime. To answer the question of whether or not I'll ever run another Half Marathon, I figure, heck, if that old guy in the yellow polo shirt can do more than one, then so can I.
Maybe just not for a couple of months...