Running the Race

Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.

Hebrews 12:1

After 4 months and nearly 200 miles of training, Nate and I ran our very first half marathon in Irving, TX. All the carefully patterned sleeping and eating routines, the gallons of water faithfully consumed, the worn shoes and sweat and injuries consummated in this one goal: to finish, and to do it in under two hours.

I am not one of those enviable runners who adore running and live to pound the pavement. Before this spring I'd only run an occasional three miles because I had to. I view running as a necessary discipline that must be endured to improve overall health, fitness and mental endurance. My secret weapon is books on tape which distract me from the misery I'm putting my body through. Multiple times during that race - specifically on miles 7, 9 and 11 - I asked myself again why on earth I was doing this. But I finished. I ran every step of the way, spurred on by Agatha Christie and cheering spectators with cowbells, and I placed second in my age group.

Nate and I held hands as we crossed the finish line, and celebrated in a steaming jacuzzi as our screaming knees and hip flexors called us every name known to man. We hobbled around Irving for the rest of the weekend, enjoying wonderful food and movies and museums and sunning ourselves in parks while trying not to look too much like 80-year-olds with arthritis.

We love Jefferson Street Bed & Breakfast!

Farm-to-table restaurant with incredible food

Venison chili and wildflower honey cornbread (elk tacos for an appetizer)

Yeah, I married him.

Fluffy hair and pale skin just needs to come back in style.

An original Norman Rockwell exhibit at the Boy Scout Museum. So good!

Love this man.

Then we came home and did the unthinkable. We registered for the Disney Marathon on January 12, 2014. Yes, we are out of our minds. Yes, in a moment of extravagant confidence I forgot every painful step of that 13.1 miles and convinced myself that I could do it twice. I hit the "register" button, and then dissolved into a puddle of quaking disbelief.

But today I laced up my running shoes and pounded it out again. We have 8 months, after all. And who knows? Maybe in that 8 months I'll learn to love running. Maybe my body will cross a threshold where I can crank out mile after mile without my joints dying a miserable death. And maybe we will have the time of our lives, flying through all 26.2 miles of those glorious Disney parks. In any case, whether we set a new record or have to stop every 20 minutes and take pictures with Mickey, it feels good to set a goal - a challenging, impossible goal - and make steady progress towards attaining it.

If there's one thing running regularly has taught me, it's a deeper appreciation for all of the Apostle Paul's exercise analogies:

"Run in such a way as to get the prize. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever." - 1 Cor. 9:24-25

"Train yourself for godliness, for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way." - 1 Tim. 4:7-8

"Run with endurance." - Hebrews 12:1

Comparing physical training with training in godliness has shown me that becoming like Christ doesn't just happen. Just as I could never set off one day to run a marathon on a whim, I can't hope to have Christlike words, thoughts and actions without applying myself to His Word and example. This race, reaping imperishable rewards, is so worth my entire life's devotion. May I run here, and wherever God places me, with endurance and with joy.

A Tribute to 27 Years

All men have a sweetness in their life. That is what helps them go on. 

It is towards that they turn when they feel too worn out.

Albert Camus

Today is the 27th anniversary of two of my favorite people - these sweethearts who don't look a day over 25. 

All men have a sweetness in their lives, said Camus, and without it they cannot go on. My dad's sweetness has been my mom, from the day he first wooed that pretty girl of seventeen. The life of a small business owner is unpredictable, and often chaotic. Through it all Mom has been that gentle, loving force of sweetness and goodness and routine that keeps him grounded. They are so happy together. And their happiness has not been in the least bit self-centered. Instead, they took it upon themselves to bring six wonderfully wacky kids into this world. They raised us from a bunch of banshees...

...to the very closest of friends. 

They love us so deeply and so well, even when they aren't quite sure what to do with us. 

They appreciate good food and can put it away with the best of them. 

They are fiercely protective of each other and their relationship.

They still play dress-up and make-believe together. 

They have single-handedly raised and educated a colony of offspring...

...and welcomed new additions with open arms. 

They love their kids more than anything on this earth...

...with the exception of each other. 

They are world-class travelers, full of creative spontaneity. 

And every April 26 for 27 years, they get dressed in wedding clothes and pore over their wedding album like it was yesterday. 

Every April 26 our family huddles around the TV and watches, again, the timeless vows whispered by candlelight. Every year the mood is magical, unbroken even when my adolescent uncle is overcome by a suffocating tie and faints in the middle of the ceremony. Every April 26 my siblings and I are reminded, again, of the love that Mom and Dad have lavished upon us - first cultivated in their early years and growing, ever more strong, selfless and free - a love that established us on a solid foundation, saw us through our most difficult years, provided far above and beyond our needs and continues to intercede and care for us. 

Mom and Dad, words cannot express what a gift you both are. God knew exactly what He was doing when He knit all these Hoffmans together. You are both gems, and have given your children much to aspire to in our own marriages. May God bless you more richly than ever in this coming year together!

Freely Give

Freely you have received. Freely give. 

- Matthew 10:8

When we first moved to Texas, I was overwhelmed by the materialistic lifestyle. Store after store, restaurants and malls and theaters line both sides of the intricate web of highways that is Houston. Literally anything I could ever need is mere minutes from our apartment. As I've gotten accustomed to hopping in my car and driving 5 miles for my errands, I've noticed a strange phenomenon. Nearly every intersection has been claimed by one or more people - tattered, weather-beaten, holding signs advertising their hunger, their five kids, their desperation. Some come right up to the window and demand acknowledgement, or else determined ignorance. Others, defeated, stand with head hung low and have given up making eye contact.

Panhandlers have always made me uncomfortable, and the shocking prevalence of them in Houston makes me positively squirm with awkwardness. They accomplish their purpose very well. It's impossible to sit at the stoplights without a tummy full from dinner out turning slightly sour, or those shopping bags in the backseat losing a bit of their intrigue. My awkwardness makes me angry. "Why aren't they applying for jobs instead of standing out here?" "What kind of parent would make their child stand on the street all day as a sob story?" "Why give them money when they'll just use it to feed whatever addiction they probably have?"

A few months ago my pastor preached a sermon that turned my world upside down. The topic was compassion, the text Luke 6:34:36. "If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount. But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful."

The people standing on the street corners aren't my enemies. They're not necessarily "ungrateful" or "evil." And even though some have been picked up as proven scammers, there is much legitimate need in this city. So why is it so very hard to give? Usually, it's because my logic gets in the way. Giving cash is dumb. It feeds the habit and may not be used for good choices. My pastor nailed that excuse too. We don't have the power to control what people do with our generosity, he explained. Having mercy requires obeying God and trusting that His justice will prevail.

My heart and my response to Jesus' sacrifice for me is what's at stake here. Can I truly give freely and trust God with what happens next?

I decided to take the challenge. I bought supplies and put together little bags with bottled water, a granola bar, McDonald's gift card and New Testament. There was one man in particular on my mind. For weeks I'd driven by him in the opposite direction, my heart breaking for the pain and defeat in his eyes. I prayed that he would be on my side of the street someday. And one morning, he was. I waved him over and, as the light turned green, put a rather large and femininely-wrapped bag in his surprised hands and gushed "Hello-Sir-I've-been-praying-for-you-God-bless-you-take-care-stay-safe." I will never forget that look of confusion, shyness, emotion, gratefulness. Here, at least, I had made a difference. I still drive by him on the opposite side of the street. And I pray that he is reading the New Testament, and that he has found hope.

Right before Easter I gave out another bag. The men look more confused than anything else, but I'm praying that as their immediate needs of hunger and thirst are touched, and a meal is provided, they will open the Bible and their deepest need will be met. How extraordinary to touch the lives of perfect strangers even in this small way.