Circular Motion

Pedaling is always easier while doing it than anticipation of getting ready to do it. I found that the more I knew about the day to come the more defeated I would sometimes feel. We are so hard on ourselves sometimes. (I don't know if people would agree with me putting myself into a category of "ourselves" but I'm going to do it anyway because I know at times I am not alone in this.) planting ideas in our own heads of what we feel we can and can't do. At times deeply believing that perhaps God made a mistake in how He made us...

But we are unlike anything we've ever seen. Even if we are in our own skin.

I am torn for words to define the way I felt about this summer when miles were announced and the digits consisted of three numbers, the first number always the number one. But once we began to ride my attitude either stayed positive of grew more fond of the idea of spending the day on a saddle. Pedal strokes, handle bars. A climb or down hill yell. Conversation or gazes of His creation surrounding us. ninety-three miles in and coming to that huge hill, rising off the saddle like the Lord had called my name personally (He did) to move forward for widows in India. Or to become overwhelmed with joy at the thought of what is being done for so many who are being saved and who begin to serve while soaring down that huge descent right outside of White Sulfur Springs, Montana.

Distance doesn't intimidate me... I intimidate myself.

Let it be broken.

Left Unsaid.

When I am here in Pennsylvania it is very hard for me to comprehend anything that is really happening in my life sometimes. I said goodbye to what remained of my teammates this morning as they drove towards the west in the home that became mine for the past eight weeks while I ran in the opposite direction. I came back and went back to bed waking up around noon to this room I sometimes dream about. I sometimes lay there for very long periods of time thinking about the life the Lord has given me and wonder constantly if it is real. If I have really traveled these places and met faces and hearts that bring this life to bend and mold me to new shapes.

I don't fit in the way that I fit eight weeks ago. It is a different shape. I am a different shape. I found myself walking around last night outside in the grass on my phone realizing I am dealing with perhaps a small identity crisis. I don't know who I am. Not to say that I knew before but now I feel even more different than I did before all of this. 

I got off a rainy plane in Seattle and rode my bike over the Cascade mountains. Ate some good ice cream in Idaho and saw a little girl smile and laugh a midst a divine appointment. I survived Montana. I saw love articulated in realistic ways in the Dakotas. Got taken in by new family in Minnesota. Held amazing conversations on a saddle in Wisconsin and struggled with myself in Chicago. Found that you can find beauty and divine things everyday while riding through Indiana and fell in love with the rolling hills in Ohio while this family grew even closer. In Pennsylvania God accomplished what I felt I had explained to others one of the many reasons why I felt I should follow this call to ride. "To push this tent to the very brink"...And I did through the Appalachian mountains. I felt pain and denial in New Jersey overcome by joy smothered words, prayers and smiles from those we barely knew. And I got to hug the Atlantic ocean off the coast of New York City with those whose legs pedaled along side mine, crying as the reality of what we had done soaked in like salt water and sun.

This seasons has begun something in me that I can't really explain. It has taken scales off of my eyes and yet I will be very honest in saying that I still feel very lost for words.

I don't particularly know how to articulate how I'm feeling now that my bike and I aren't even in the same state. It's on its way back to the reality that is soon to be mine in two weeks while I sit here feeling like I'm in purgatory. A waiting place where I feel like I've never left. 

I'm not complaining though. I am thankful for the rest. 

It really happened. And so did all the things leading up to it.

While running again, sleeping in a bed again, and seeing this Pennsylvania sky again, I am praising the Lord because it is real. And though I don't know how to fully comprehend this life and the purpose yet behind it, I know that I am always in good hands.

Keep Adventuring

Pennies in Pavement.

Pennies in pavement. Like gems in a sea of Chaos. We are often lost in the hustle and bustle. We become forgotten to others and even ourselves at times. We get trampled and pushed deeper inward, scuffed up and bent. But we are not lost. We are seen by unseen eyes. We are noticed and appreciated for the beauty that builds within this sea of chaos. Under quick moving feet and tires, the little things are what make up this place in my heart. This temporary destination. Like pennies in pavement, these little gems of memories, seasons and places make up the path that continues to build each corner and turn unknown but reflections shine from the darkest depths. Just like gems in a beautiful sea of chaos.