Papers, panic, pasta and prayers.

Hello, friends! I am writing this from my current location under a pile of books and papers. As I may have mentioned before, the week before my marathon of running just happens to include a marathon of homework, church meetings, family stuff and a variety of other distractions. All of this is leaving little time for panic (except about schoolwork) or blogging (boo!).

My toughest assignment is due at 4:15pm today, so I am down to the wire, but I do want to take a minute to say a big thank you to the Noodles and Company in Columbia, MD.  Katie and I had hoped to hold a fundraiser there this week, but all of our work got the better of us and we were not able to pull it together. We were worried that the Noodles people would be angry, but instead they offered us free pasta for our carb-loading week! So, tonight, after Katie and I both turn in this *&%$*# paper, we will be off to Katie's for a pasta party with our awesome running buddies. I can't wait.

While I have nothing else original to offer on the blog today, I had the opportunity yesterday to give a short reflection on my training/fundraising experience before one of my classes. Most of this material is recycled from other blog posts, but I thought I would post it anyway:

Marathon for Murray reflection, 10/27/10

Kelly and Sloane died on a Friday. I didn’t find out about it for a couple of days because I was busy writing a sermon about Mark 5: 21-43.This is the story where Jesus heals a woman who has been suffering hemorrhages for 12 years and also revives Jairus’ young daughter, who has just died. I really struggled with this sermon. Personally, I find the miracle stories difficult because they make me wonder why we don’t see more miracles, and why we see so many good, faithful people suffer and die.


To find a way to talk about the text, I thought about what we mean when we say the word, “miracle,” and I decided that we usually think of miracles as instant, wonderful solutions to our worst problems. Then, I looked back at the Bible story, and I realized that these healings were not instant, wonderful solutions. The people in the stories had to work hard and suffer a long time before their problems were solved. Even then, the solutions they received were quite different than what they originally hoped for.

Ultimately, I wrote:

“I think that the good news of today’s text is that miracles aren’t always simple or immediate, but they do happen. The people in today’s stories have to make long and difficult journeys in order to receive healing, and it might not happen exactly as they want or expect it to. Given a choice, I’m sure that the woman with hemorrhages would not have endured 12 years of sickness and lost everything she had before finding a cure. I’m sure that Jairus would have chosen for his daughter not to get sick and die in the first place. When that moment of healing comes, though, none of that matters. When these people finally feel the healing touch of Jesus, they forget all the struggle and pain, and simply feel awe and gratitude for the miracle they’ve received.”

That Sunday morning, I was getting ready to go and preach this sermon when I turned on the TV and learned that Kelly and Sloane had died. I drove to the church sobbing and I had no idea how I was going to stand behind the pulpit and talk about healing and resurrection. The one thing that got me through it was something that one of my preaching professors in seminary told me. He said that we should always preach the message we most need to hear. The morning that I gave that sermon was the truest expression of that lesson I can imagine. I needed more than anything to believe that healing from the kind of pain so many were experiencing that day could be possible, no matter how long or what form it took.

In the days after Kelly and Sloane died, I thought a lot about what I needed to learn from those losses. I kept coming back to how much Kelly had experienced and accomplished in only 40 years. I was 30 at that time, and I thought about what I would want to do if I knew I only had 10 more years. I decided that I needed to stop holding myself back and push myself to try new things and be as excellent as I knew I could be.

On the anniversary of Kelly and Sloane’s accident, I went to a memorial mass in their honor. Kelly’s husband Sean spoke about how he and his daughters are coping. He admits that they are still struggling, but he said that the thing that gives them hope is learning about all of the ways Kelly and Sloane have impacted and inspired others. I knew exactly what he meant. When I made my resolution to push myself, I was thinking about my personal and professional lives. Running was the furthest thing from my mind. But, as I learned from the Bible story, healing often comes in unexpected ways. I don’t have adequate time or words to explain the blessings that have come into my life since I decided to run this marathon in honor of Kelly. I can only say that it has been transformative, and I don’t know that I would have done it without Kelly and Sloane’s inspiration.

So, I want to leave you with the conclusion of that sermon I gave a little over a year ago. I’ll be the first to admit that I wasn’t sure I believed it at the time. But I believe it now:

“As we sit here [today], I’m sure that each of us is need of some form of healing, whether from physical disease, mental illness, emotional pain, spiritual emptiness, or any number of other hurts. I’m also sure that, at one time or another, we’ve all wished for a miracle. The good news of this text is that it might not happen immediately or exactly how we want it, but if we persevere, believe, and support one another, our own miraculous moments of healing will come. Sooner or later, our faith will make us well. Amen.”