I was up at 5 AM today to make the 12 mile run after running only one very short run this week. It did not go well. The ITB pain from years past hit with a vengeance.
Even though I started out great and ran with folks I can't normally see, when I stopped to stretch at the first water stop, I lost sight of them and everyone else. I was sore, mad and slightly depressed. All I could think about was the people passing me by.
Then I heard that little voice telling me, "Stop comparing yourself." I knew it was God so I tried to occupy my thoughts with other things. I happened to be running through a quaint little neighborhood and passed a cute yellow house with green shutters.
I thought about how that was the color I really wanted our house to be. The only problem was that I couldn't find the right yellow. I'd seen a lot of houses with the wrong yellow and did not want that. Not only that, but all of those yellow houses, upon further inspection, looked very dirty. That would never do.
In the end I picked a tan colored house with black shudders. The dirt kind of blends in. In fact, my carpets are also a color that blends well with Georgia clay, sand, and peanut butter. My counters are stain, scratch, and heat resistant and require absolutely no sealing or upkeep other than regular old cleaning.
You see, I know where I am in life and it's kind of khaki. I'm not a yellow siding, white carpet kind of girl. It doesn't jive with the very practical, mothering, rubber-hits-road frame of mind I'm in. However, I think my home is beautiful. I love the khaki and red walls, the chocolate couches and counter tops and the sandy colored carpet. Not only does it all look great together, but no one can tell how long it's been since I’ve vacuumed.
Somewhere between miles 5 and 6 God showed me that when you accept who you are and use the gifts He gives you, you end up with something that is not only a reflection of you, but also a beautiful work of art.
I managed to get this when I was decorating the house. Now if I can just apply it to the rest of my life.