Sore feet, happy heart

Today was one of those special gifts straight from the heart of God.
I woke up, read in bed. After a morning of cranking out assignments, cleaning my car and enjoying the sunshine, I headed on a run.
I just uploaded Switchfoot's new album, it was 19 degrees and running was effortless.
Why am I writing about my run? Because I ended up going further than I have ever run before.
Long enough to stand under a freezing shower to shut my screaming muscles up, to give me problems going up the stairs, long enough to listen to the Switchfoot album multiple times.
It was wonderful. Nothing makes you feel as alive as running.
I love sunshine, running, and Jesus. And today, I got all three.
Sometimes, my life is just too good.

Immense Quiet

One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then that one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever. One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn time and goes out and stands alone and throws ones head far back and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvalous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising sun - which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years. One knows it then for a moment or so.

And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting though and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries.

Then sometimes, the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure;

and sometimes a sound of far off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in someone's eyes.

I loved this. Today was posatively idyllic; one of those days when you know you will live forever. I thought this was appropriate.